Reckoning by Kate Cary Page B

sixteen. “I think you should go to her right away,” I told him. “She looks positively lost. And besides, your sister would never forgive me if I were the cause of—” I mimicked his throat-cutting gesture.
    Bertie exhaled. “I knew you’d understand.” He turned and tapped a tall, dark-haired man on the shoulder. “Giles, would you look after Miss Seward for me?”
    The dark-haired man turned, gave me an appraising look, and then smiled. I felt a tremor of anxiety; there was something slightly unsavoury in his gaze.
    “It would be a pleasure, Bertie,” he said, holding out a hand to me. “Giles Maitland.” He introduced himself with a little bow.
    Reluctantly I let him lead me back among the dancers, my disconcertment rising at the tight grip he kept on my hand.
    “I spotted you earlier,” he murmured in my ear as he held me, too closely, against him. “Silly little Bertie for passing you on.”
    I pulled away from the hold he had on me and kept him at arm’s length as we danced. My propriety seemed to amuse him.
    “I’m curious as to how our paths have not crossed before tonight,” he commented.
    “I don’t go out much,” I answered coolly. “My father’s health isn’t good, and I don’t like to leave him.”
    “Ah,” he responded. “A dutiful daughter. How charming.”
    As soon as the music ended, I felt a rush of relief. The dancing had made me hot, and Mr. Maitland’s overly tight grip had awoken a feeling of claustrophobia in me. I longed for cool, fresh air. “Thank you for the dance,” I said politely as I pulled my hands free from his, “but I should like to take some air now.”
    The French windows that led out onto the wide, flag-stoned terrace were open. I could see that the terrace was lit with lanterns, and, feeling I should be safe enough out there, I made my way to the door.
    The cool evening air bathed me as I stepped out. I crossed over to the terrace edge to lean on its cold stone balustrade. It was a relief to be out of the crowded room, but as I looked out upon the dark garden beyond, I felt my familiar anxiety begin to stir.
    “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”
    I spun around to see that Giles Maitland had followed me out. My anxiety grew. “It is lovely,” I agreed, not meeting hisgaze. “However, I was about to go back inside.” I turned to leave—but Mr. Maitland, not to be shaken so easily, placed a hand on my arm to stay me. My heart began to race a little; I was intimidated by his forwardness.
    “Surely you don’t have to leave just yet,” he said. “It’s a rare treat to find such an attractive woman out here in the country.”
    Was he ignoring my lack of interest on purpose? “I’m sorry,” I replied. “The air is a little chilly out here. I want to go in.” I pulled away from his grasp—but as I turned, a sudden loud fluttering rose from a tree beside the terrace. I caught my breath as the dark, web-winged shape of a bat loomed up into the moonlight.
    The creature swooped beneath the string of lanterns edging the terrace and dove across the balustrade so close to me I felt the air from its wings on my cheek. Speechless terror ripped through me and I lurched backward—falling against Mr. Maitland.
    I found myself gripped in his tight embrace. “Ah, changed your mind, have you?” he murmured in a knowing tone that made me shudder. He spun me around to face him. “That’s more like it.”
    “Let go of me!” I gasped, pushing against his chest.
    But he just laughed and held me tighter. “I like a woman with spirit. I believe this will be a kiss worth fighting for. . . .”
    I recoiled in horror as he lowered his mouth toward mine.
    “Maitland!” A man’s voice spoke from the doorway. “Itshould be clear—even to you—that the lady does not welcome your attentions.”
    Taken by surprise, my captor loosened his grip. I immediately pulled myself free and, panting with relief, turned to identify my saviour.
    Standing in the