Chapter 10. The Masquerade

The week following Victor"s departure passed in a blur. The pain in Benedict"s chest became a dull, persistent ache that never quite went away. He woke with it in the morning and fell asleep with it at night.

To Benedict"s surprise, his family gave him space. Nobody asked about Vivienne anymore, probably assuming the two of them still hadn"t reconciled after their quarrel at the assembly. Benedict didn"t know what he would tell them when it became obvious Vivienne wasn"t coming back. He couldn"t bear to think about it now, his mind focusing only on their goodbye the morning of Victor"s departure.

When Benedict woke that day, the bed beside him was empty, the sheets cold and crumpled. For a fleeting, irrational moment, he feared Victor might have left already, leaving Benedict alone in his house with nothing but the old bed and armoire. But when Benedict hastily dressed and went downstairs, he found Victor sitting at the table with a cup of tea. His hair was damp, and he wore a fresh black shirt and matching trousers. He looked up at Benedict, his gaze cautious and uncertain.

"Good morning," Benedict said, feeling his face flush. It felt strange to look at Victor in the light of day, especially with the memories of last night still so vivid.

"Do you want tea? I made some," Victor said quickly, looking away and nodding at the steaming cups on the table.

"Thanks," Benedict replied. He took a cup and sat across from Victor, feeling a little uncomfortable in the same clothes he had worn the night before.

Benedict wrapped his hands around the cup, warming them against the porcelain.

"I"d offer you breakfast, but I don"t think I have anything you"d like," Victor said, giving him a brief glance before taking a sip of tea.

"It"s fine, I"m not hungry," Benedict replied, hating the awkwardness that had crept back between them. "I need to go back to Blackmoor anyway."

"Oh, all right." Victor cleared his throat. "I was planning to take a carriage to the cabaret. You could come with me if you like." He blinked. "I mean, it could take you to Blackmoor afterwards. If you want."

Benedict nodded. "Sure. Thank you."

They spent the journey to the cabaret in silence, Benedict feeling the need to say something but not knowing what. He found it so hard to express his emotions that he spent the entire ride in his head, debating whether it was better to speak or to stay silent.

Did Victor regret what had happened between them? It was obvious he didn"t want to talk about it. But the thought of these moments in the carriage being their last together wrenched Benedict"s heart.

As soon as the carriage stopped by The Shiny Clam, Victor looked out the window then turned to Benedict.

"This is my stop," he said, their eyes meeting. Benedict saw something in them, a raw emotion that Victor instantly tried to hide. "Goodbye, Mr. Blackmoor," he said and turned away, ready to leave.

"Wait." Benedict caught him by the wrist, pulling him back. Surprise flickered in Victor"s eyes as he turned to face him again.

"I…" Benedict struggled to find the right words. "I hate saying goodbye." He fought back the tears that had gathered somewhere in his throat, threatening to spill at any moment.

"Then don"t," Victor said, smiling bitterly.

"It doesn"t have to mean anything if you don"t want it to."

And with that, he slipped out of the carriage, never looking back.

***

The days blurred together. Although Benedict would have preferred to stay in his room and shut out the rest of the world, he started attending family meals again. After losing Victor, the thought of losing his grandfather, too, weighed heavily on him. Benedict resolved to spend as much time with Grandfather Henry as possible before it was too late.

Grandfather Henry seemed well and was in good spirits, making it easy to forget about his illness. Benedict knew he was subconsciously trying to do just that because the reality of losing him was too much to bear.

Despite these family gatherings, Benedict"s life after Victor"s departure had become bleak, lacking the excitement and anticipation that had filled his days only a couple of weeks ago. He couldn"t help but think back to how he used to live before Victor came into his life—it was much the same as now, but back then, he had been unaware of what he was missing.

During family meals, Benedict was mostly silent, speaking only when spoken to. The banter between him and Percy had ceased completely, and Benedict hoped that Grandfather Henry was at least pleased by that.

As the days stretched on, Benedict found himself increasingly lost in thought, his mind constantly drifting back to Victor and the moments they had shared. The ache in his chest had become a constant reminder of what he had lost and of the void that Victor"s absence had left in his life.

Benedict tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, but the entire family seemed to detect his melancholy. The weight of his sorrow was palpable beneath the lighthearted conversations around the table.

Benedict was surprised that his mother didn"t try to talk about Vivienne again. Knowing Lilibeth, who always found something to fuss about, he was certain it took all of her willpower to remain silent.

Grandfather Henry also said nothing, although Benedict occasionally felt his unwavering gaze upon him. Even Percy made an effort to be nice to Benedict, awkwardly asking about the estate business, although Benedict knew he didn"t care about it in the slightest.

Benedict's life became dull and monotonous.

The only good news was that Lady Hawthorne seemed to have lost interest in him, at least for the time being. After their conversation in the Swan Parlor, Benedict didn"t hear from her again. He wondered if she had only been bluffing that day—blackmailing him in the hope that he would either agree to marry Miss Ashcroft to avoid being exposed or offer money to buy her silence. But since he did neither, the matchmaker seemed to have lost interest in him and moved on to finding a new match for William Thornby or someone else.

And so, life went on.

***

The long-awaited masquerade at the Thornby Manor finally arrived. Benedict didn"t want to go, but his entire family had accepted the invitation weeks ago, leaving him no choice.

The event was held in the spacious grand hall on the first floor of the manor. Large arched windows overlooked the frosty gardens; gold decorations adorned the walls, reflecting the light from the crystal chandeliers. Ice sculptures of forest animals like rabbits, foxes, and deer were placed throughout the room. An impressive ice castle stood on the main table, surrounded by platters of appetizers, pitchers of mulled wine, and spiced cider. Masked guests mingled around the table, holding plates of food and drinks.

Part of the grand hall was designated for dancing, with couples already swaying to the music from a string quartet at the far end of the room.

As the Blackmoors entered the hall, the host and a few friends and neighbors came to greet them. The intricate masks made it hard to recognize familiar faces in the dim lighting. Benedict accepted a glass of mulled wine from a passing footman and stood by one of the tall tables, attempting to avoid any conversations that would inevitably lead to questions about Vivienne LaFleur"s whereabouts.

To Benedict"s disappointment, a woman approached him. Her face was partially obscured by a red mask adorned with glitter and crystals.

"Good evening, Mr. Blackmoor," she greeted him. Benedict looked up at her but couldn"t immediately identify who she was.

"Good evening," he replied, offering her a polite bow.

The woman smiled and said, "I"m pleased to see you here."

Benedict found her voice familiar, but he couldn"t quite place it.

"I apologize," he said. "I"m having trouble recognizing you under the mask."

The woman laughed softly.

"I am your ill-fated match," she explained. Seeing Benedict"s confused expression, she clarified with a grin, "The one Lady Hawthorne unsuccessfully tried to pair you with."

Realization hit Benedict. "Miss Ashcroft." He bowed to her once more, feeling a blush creep up his neck. "I"m truly sorry for not recognizing you sooner. And…" He cleared his throat awkwardly, "…for the whole matchmaking misunderstanding."

Miss Ashcroft waved off his apology with a cheerful smile. "Don"t worry about it. Although I must confess, I was a bit perplexed at first." Her already rosy cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. "Based on Lady Hawthorne"s recommendations and the invitation to your ball, I had assumed you were just as eager to get to know me as I was to know you. And oh, was I disappointed."

Benedict looked at her sheepishly and said, "I apologize, Miss Ashcroft."

Now, as he gazed upon this intelligent and well-mannered young woman, he almost regretted being different. Being queer. He wished he could simply choose a girl and be happy with her, just like Percy. Instead, he was destined to live his life like a rock washed by a tide that could never move him; forever creating resistance against tradition; always being that peculiar creature that draws attention…or living a lie. There was no other path for him. But one thing he knew for certain: now that he had experienced true happiness, even if only for a brief moment, he could never be truly happy again.

"There"s really no need to apologize," Miss Ashcroft said in a light-hearted tone. "When I first saw you with Miss LaFleur, it became clear that you were unaware of the whole matchmaking situation. I hope I"m not being too forward, but it was quite evident that you had feelings for her." She smiled reassuringly. "However, I wasn"t offended."

"Thank you." Benedict gave her a tentative nod. "To be honest, the entire thing was my mother"s idea. And you know how mothers can be; they don"t consult their children once they"ve made up their minds."

"Oh, I have a father just like that." Miss Ashcroft smirked, tilting her head slightly. "I must say, though, many of the young ladies in Shorewitch are quite disappointed with you, Mr. Blackmoor."

"Oh?" He cleared his throat. "Have I misled any of them? Because if I have, I need to seek their forgiveness."

"No, you haven"t, but I recently became aware that you were Shorewitch"s most eligible bachelor for quite some time. And the fact that you"ve been won over by an outsider, a foreigner…" Miss Ashcroft let out a short laugh. "Let"s just say it"s left many hearts broken."

Benedict smiled back at her. "I"m sorry if I"ve upset anyone. But, fortunately, there are plenty of wealthy young men in Shorewitch."

"Yet no one quite like you," Miss Ashcroft said pensively, her gaze almost distant. She quickly collected herself and said, "By the way, where is Miss LaFleur? Is she attending tonight? I haven"t seen her yet."

Benedict felt a painful twinge in his chest. "Actually, she left Shorewitch."

Emily seemed taken aback by his response. "When is she coming back?"

"I don"t know," Benedict replied vaguely. He knew that announcing Vivienne was never coming back wasn"t the smartest decision. He wanted people to forget about her and, with time, naturally stop asking questions. "But I"m sure we will see her soon."

At that moment, Lord Exington silently approached them, listening to their conversation. Exington wore a golden mask and a pristine white suit, his hair meticulously slicked back, his usual half-smile already on his lips.

"Good evening," he greeted, kissing Miss Ashcroft"s hand before offering Benedict a handshake. "Did I hear correctly? Miss LaFleur has left Shorewitch?"

Benedict nodded, folding his arms across his chest. He had no intention of discussing the matter with Exington, considering he was partly responsible for Victor"s departure.

"Does this mean the wedding is off, and you"re back on the market, Blackmoor?" Exington asked, giving him a playful wink.

Emily Ashcroft glanced quickly between the two of them but remained silent, waiting for Benedict to respond.

"If you"re planning to propose to me instead, Exington, I"m afraid I must disappoint you, as my heart is still spoken for," Benedict replied with a sarcastic smile.

Exington burst out laughing, and Miss Ashcroft joined in, albeit less enthusiastically. Fortunately, before Lord Exington could say anything else, one of Miss Ashcroft"s friends called her, so she excused herself and left.

Benedict wasn"t thrilled about being left alone with Exington, given their recent history, but circumstances left him no choice.

"She seems quite taken with you," Exington mused, his eyes following Miss Ashcroft as she walked away. "It"s a pity she doesn"t know you"re queer, isn"t it? She wouldn"t be wasting her time on you otherwise."

"Keep your voice down," Benedict snapped, feeling heat rushing to his face.

Exington smirked, apparently pleased with himself for pushing Benedict"s buttons. "Oh, don"t be so sensitive, Blackmoor."

"What"s your problem?" Benedict asked, his angry voice lowered to a whisper.

Exington let out a hearty laugh. "I"m just trying to break the ice," he said.

"Blackmail isn"t the best way to do that," Benedict hissed. "What do you want from me? Just say it."

Seeing how angry he was, Exington became more serious.

"You need to learn to take a joke, Blackmoor," he said. "I"m just teasing you. I"m not trying to expose your secrets, let alone blackmail you, so please relax."

His voice sounded sincere, and Benedict took a deep breath, realizing his chest had become so tight he could barely inhale.

"If you"re not trying to blackmail me, then what was the point of that play?" Benedict asked, not ready to let him off the hook just yet. "At your assembly."

Exington laughed again. "Oh, that? I was just inviting you to join in the fun, silly."

"Thanks to you, Lady Hawthorne found out about everything." Benedict didn"t specify what "everything" was, but he knew Exington understood. There was no doubt about it.

"Ah, that. I apologize for the trouble I may have caused. The play was meant to be a harmless joke for you and Miss LaFleur to enjoy. I never intended for that nosy matchmaker to take it seriously. Did she give you a hard time? I was curious how she put two and two together when she questioned me later that day…"

Benedict narrowed his eyes. "How did you find out about it?"

Exington pondered for a moment before smirking. "Well, I followed you the night you and Miss LaFleur left for the city. I saw you riding off on a horse, so I took mine and trailed behind you. Didn"t you notice me? I was at the cabaret, too. She"s a truly captivating performer…"

"No—"

"How do you think your horse vanished? It was I who took it." He chuckled, evidently proud of himself.

Benedict felt anger rising in him once more. "That was you?! Why on Earth would you do such a thing?"

Exington shrugged. "Just for the thrill of it."

"There was a snowstorm, and we were stranded because you stole my horse!" Benedict struggled to control his anger, feeling his face grow hot.

A footman quietly approached their table, and Exington picked up a glass of mulled wine, patiently smiling as he waited for him to leave. Benedict took two glasses of wine. Once the footman was out of earshot, Exington said, "Technically, I didn"t steal it, as I returned it to the stables."

"Oh, how considerate of you!" Benedict scoffed, downing an entire glass in one gulp.

They fell silent for a few moments before Exington inquired, "So, why has he gone? I mean, she. Miss LaFleur."

"It"s a long story," Benedict said, suddenly losing his desire to argue with Exington.

Exington didn"t pry further and instead remarked, "I must say, your plan was quite brilliant. Marrying a man whom everyone believes to be a woman…Truly ingenious! Had I known that was a possibility, perhaps I"d be married by now."

Benedict stared at him, taken aback. Did he just confess that he…

"Wait." He blinked. "Are you?.."

"Yes," Exington confirmed with a meaningful twist of his lips. "I am drawn to both theMoon and theSun."

It took Benedict a moment to process this revelation. Thinking about it now, it was rather apparent that Exington wasn"t a stickler for tradition. The paintings in his manor alone were a testament to that. But Benedict had been so consumed by his own troubles that he had failed to see what was right in front of him.

"How did you know that I was—" Benedict hesitated and tried again. "That I was—"

"Queer?" Exington prompted quietly. "Oh, that"s obvious, Blackmoor. You never eat black pudding."

Benedict stared at him blankly. "What?"

Exington laughed loudly again and clapped him on the shoulder. "I"m just joking. There were always many beautiful women around you, yet you avoided marriage like the plague. That's how I knew. Although I have to confess, your charade with Miss LaFleur for a moment almost convinced me that I had been wrong."

Benedict frowned. "But you're not married either. And you said you liked both…"

Exington let out a soft laugh. "I'm not ready to limit myself to one person just yet." He winked at Benedict. "Though, to be honest, if I had a chance with Miss LaFleur, I would seriously consider that option."

So he had been flirting with her, Benedict thought, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"I promise, I won"t breathe a word about it to anyone, Blackmoor," Lord Exington drew an x with his finger on his heart. "I swear, all of your secrets are safe with me."

Benedict huffed, feeling the tight grip around his heart loosen a little. "I"m afraid the matchmaker will do that for you anyway. I hope she"s not here, by the way."

"Oh, she"s here." Exington glanced around, trying to spot the woman. "I already saw her talking with Thornby…Oh—" Exington stammered, looking at someone behind Benedict. "Look who's just arrived."

Benedict turned around, and his heart skipped a beat. He couldn"t believe his eyes. Dressed in an ivory silk gown with a dusty pink corset, Vivienne had just entered the ballroom. Her long golden hair cascaded down her shoulders, and a golden mask on her face glittered in the light.

"He must be gorgeous beneath all that," Exington breathed, his voice dripping with desire. "I mean, those eyes…And that body…He must be incredible in bed."

"Don"t be inappropriate, Exington," Benedict said, his jaw clenched.

"Ah," Exington laughed, "You"re serious about him, how sweet. I"m happy for you. Oh, look, she"s coming our way."

Exington was right. While Benedict gazed at Vivienne, almost mesmerized, she noticed him as if he were the sole reason she had come. She made her way straight towards him, greeting guests along the way but persistently getting closer.

Benedict felt his heart pounding loudly in his ears, his entire body buzzing with anticipation. He couldn"t believe it. But when Vivienne was only a few feet away, Benedict finally realized it was truly her.

"Lucky bastard," Exington said with a smirk. He kissed Vivienne"s hand and gave Benedict a parting wink before leaving the two of them alone.

"You came," Benedict said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I couldn"t disappoint poor Thornby, could I?" Vivienne said with a laugh, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "After all, I"m getting proposed to tonight."

Benedict could barely manage a laugh as sudden happiness overwhelmed him. He kissed her outstretched hand, and Vivienne smiled.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I"m fine," Benedict said, his eyes never leaving hers. More than anything, he wanted to be alone with her—him—wanted to see him without the disguise, speak earnestly, and ask where he had been and what he had been doing. But there were too many prying eyes fixed on them.

So he said, "May I have this dance, Miss LaFleur?"

She nodded, and he led her to the dance floor, where several other couples were already dancing. Benedict felt all eyes on them as he pulled Vivienne into his arms. Now that she was so close to him, he caught Victor"s familiar scent, and Benedict"s entire body instantly reacted to it.

As soon as they began to move in rhythm with the music, he asked, "Are you in the city for long?"

"Just for the night," Vivienne said quietly, her lips almost brushing Benedict"s ear as she added, "I needed to see you." He felt her fingers graze the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

Benedict felt someone"s gaze upon him and glanced over Vivienne"s shoulder to catch Lady Hawthorne"s hawkish look. He didn"t want to see her and didn"t care what she thought.

"Stay the night at Blackmoor," Benedict said quietly, drawing his eyes back to Vivienne. "Please."

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "What would people say, Mr. Blackmoor?"

Benedict felt himself blush as he realized how obvious his true desires were. But before he could come up with a response, Vivienne said, "I need to find a bathroom. There must be one on the second floor, so I"ll go look for it. If you"ll excuse me." She released him from her embrace and gave him a smile before departing.

As he watched her go, confused by her abrupt departure, Benedict slowly realized what she had implied. Did she want him to follow her?

He couldn"t pursue her immediately. So he took another glass of wine and talked to Felicia Blane for a few minutes to avoid arousing suspicion. When he was sure Lady Hawthorne was nowhere in sight, Benedict slipped out of the ballroom.

As he walked along the empty corridor and crossed the deserted vestibule, leaving the cheerful noises behind, he wondered if he had misinterpreted Vivienne's intentions. What if he had just assumed she wanted him there and was mistaken?

Benedict ascended the grand stairs to the second floor and searched for a bathroom. As he walked along an empty corridor, he noticed that one of the doors was slightly ajar. He approached it and pulled the door handle.

Vivienne was waiting for him inside, standing by the sink. As she heard the door open and looked up at him, catching his gaze in the mirror, Benedict instantly knew he hadn"t been wrong.

He closed the door behind him and turned the key. At that exact moment, Vivienne pushed him against the door, but before her lips could cover his, Benedict grabbed her wig and pulled it off her head.

"You"re really not into girls, are you?" Victor said with a laugh, but Benedict silenced him with a fervent kiss as his hands reached to unlace his corset. He fumbled with it, his desperation growing, then felt Victor"s hands unbuttoning his trousers and decided to forget about the corset. They didn't have time. But before he could think of anything else, his cock was out, and Victor was already sinking to his knees. As Victor"s warm, velvety mouth engulfed him, Benedict let out a moan that he barely remembered to stifle. His hands found Victor"s unruly black hair as Victor started caressing and sucking the tip of his cock. Benedict moaned again, his breathing ragged, his hands desperately grasping Victor"s hair as Victor took him deep in his throat. And then Benedict made the mistake of looking down at Victor, saw those piercing dark eyes on him—and Benedict was too close too quickly.

He pulled Victor up in one swift motion and pushed him towards the sink to have something to brace themselves against. He positioned himself behind Victor, bunching up his dress to expose his bare skin. As his cock slid along the cleft of Victor"s backside, Benedict hissed and heard Victor let out a moan.

"Fuck me," Victor whispered, his voice dripping with need, his eyes finding Benedict's in the mirror. "Fuck me, please."

These obscene words made Benedict shudder. He reached for the porcelain jar of cold cream on the bathroom shelf, quickly unscrewing the lid. Benedict scooped out a generous amount, coating his aching arousal with the slick substance.

Victor gasped as Benedict"s finger circled his entrance before slowly pushing inside. Benedict took his time, gradually adding a second finger, savoring Victor"s soft moans and the way he pressed back against Benedict"s hand.

When Victor was ready, Benedict removed his fingers and positioned himself at Victor"s entrance. With a long thrust, he pushed inside, both of them groaning at the sensation. Benedict paused, giving Victor a moment to adjust, marveling at the tight heat around him.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Benedict finally began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. He kept one hand on Victor"s hip, the other sliding up Victor"s chest to gently cover his mouth, muffling the needy sounds he was making. Benedict"s lips found the nape of Victor"s neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there as his thrusts gradually quickened.

Their breathing grew heavier, more ragged, pleasure building between them. Benedict"s thrusts became faster, more primal, driven by a desperate need for release. Victor moaned against his hand, his body shuddering as he neared the edge. With a few more deep thrusts, Benedict felt himself coming undone, waves of intense pleasure crashing over him. He muffled his cry against Victor"s shoulder, holding him close as he spilled inside of him.

"Fuck," Benedict breathed, echoing Victor's words, as he rode out the aftershock of his climax.

He froze like that, slick and hot, pressed against Victor's back, pulsing inside of him. When he finally pulled out and kissed Victor"s neck, turning Victor to face him, Benedict realized Victor was still hard and aching. Benedict blushed as he met Victor"s lustful gaze. And before he could say anything, Victor took Benedict"s hand into his own, brought it to his lips, and licked it, his tongue slick and hot. Then Victor placed it onto his own cock, guiding it slowly down its length—and then back up. Down and up, going slow at first and then faster. As their hands moved together, Benedict looked down, mesmerized, unable to turn away. Victor looked, too, starting to whimper from the building pleasure.

Up and down.

"Hngh," Victor moaned, his eyes closing as Benedict slid his thumb over the tip of his cock. Benedict covered Victor"s lips with his own, and their tongues met as Victor urged Benedict"s hand to go faster, faster, faster. Victor moaned into Benedict"s mouth, and only a few seconds later, he came slick and hot, draping one arm over Benedict's neck and pulling him close.

Seeing this—Victor coming undone in his arms—spurred another surge of arousal in Benedict as he felt his own cock twitch and harden once more. He waited for Victor to ride out his pleasure before whispering, "I want…I want you again."

Victor could only raise his eyebrows and laugh in response, his tongue finding Benedict"s. Benedict shuddered at the touch and pulled up one of Victor"s legs, sliding his already hard cock inside him.

"Ah—" they moaned in unison.

Standing face to face, there wasn"t much space for maneuver, but it was enough for Benedict to fuck Victor quick and hard, hugging him closely as Victor"s tongue fucked his mouth in the rhythm with his thrusts.

They both moaned as Benedict"s hips found the perfect angle, and Victor shuddered beneath him. Benedict thrust with abandon, unable to control his pace, again and again, the pleasure almost unbearable.

"Uhhh," Victor whined, looking down to where their bodies were joined. "Faster, faster," he pleaded.

Benedict let go, his thrusts quick and hard, making Victor moan and whimper so loudly that they would have certainly been heard if a servant had passed by the corridor. But Benedict didn"t care. With one final thrust, his hand found Victor"s already aroused cock, and he stroked it swift and rough. As Victor shuddered and cried out, his hot release coating Benedict"s hand, Benedict moaned and came inside of him.

For a few long moments, there was silence, interrupted only by their ragged breathing. Then, Benedict pulled out and gently lowered Victor"s leg.

"Fuck," Victor breathed out, looking at Benedict with a gaze nothing short of admiration. "That was…Fuck…" That seemed to be the only thing he could say.

Benedict laughed and leaned down to place a light kiss on Victor"s damp forehead, cheekbone, and flushed cheek before capturing his swollen lips in a slow and deep kiss. Victor responded by cupping Benedict"s face with his hands, fingers lacing through his hair.

When the kiss ended, Victor suddenly pulled Benedict by the neck, embracing him, and held still for several moments. Benedict felt his heart pounding in his ears as he tightened his arms around Victor.

It took them a couple of minutes to catch their breath before they released each other, and Benedict took a step back.

"What a mess," Victor chuckled, glancing down at their ruined clothes. "I think we need to clean up and leave."

"And I think, Miss LaFleur, that you"ve destroyed my favorite suit," Benedict teased, and Victor rolled his eyes in response.

They spent the next quarter of an hour cleaning themselves up and tidying the bathroom. It was clear they couldn"t return to the ballroom without becoming the subject of gossip for the next two weeks. So they decided it would be best to leave a note for Benedict"s family and go straight to Blackmoor.

But as they quietly opened the door to check the corridor before leaving the bathroom, they froze in their tracks. Two figures were waiting for them in the hallway.

William Thornby.

And Lady Hawthorne.