Heavens, would she ever move past this phase in life? She looked forward to the time she'd be labeled on the shelf. At least then she'd have a bit more freedom.
"My dear," Lady Howard trilled, cutting through the crowd to get to her. Lady Pembroke, fast on her rival's heels, towed an unwilling Lady Norland behind her, not about to let Lady Howard capture the first morsel of gossip. "We had no idea things between you and the viscount had become so serious!"
"Yes, you sly thing." Lady Pembroke huffed. "You declare Viscount Lawrence the catch of the season while you had him on the hook."
And so it begins. True to the plan, Charlotte sipped her drink and countered the bloodhounds surrounding her. Except for Lady Norland, of course. Charlotte could only feel sorry for the young widow. Lady Pembroke grasped the sweet woman in her claws, and for that alone, Charlotte wanted to be extra kind. "I did nothing of the sort. Viscount Lawrence is a good friend of mine."
"It looked like much more than that to me." Lady Howard's eyes gleamed. "I would wager he is declaring himself."
Lady Pembroke fumed. "That's exactly what I was saying to Lady Norland." She turned to the lady in question. "Isn't that so?"
Lady Norland's slim shoulders rounded. "Yes. Exactly so. Just a moment ago."
Lady Howard's eyes narrowed, never one to stay out of the light. "I think it was obvious to everyone in the room, Lady Pembroke."
"Perhaps."
"Lady Charlotte," Lady Norland interrupted. "Do you think anything more will happen with the viscount?"
Normally Charlotte would never answer such an impertinent question, but since Lady Norland had asked and was obviously trying to keep the peace between the other two ladies, Charlotte smiled. "I'm afraid I cannot say. We'll all just have to see what the future holds."
Lady Norland's lips curved at the diplomatic answer. "Yes, we-"
A shout echoed through the room. Then another.
"Heavens, what could that be?" Lady Howard's eyes lit up as her eyes darted between the commotion across the room and Charlotte, torn between two juicy bones of gossip.
"Fire!" someone shouted.
The room froze a split second before chaos erupted.
"Fire! Fire! Everyone out!" a man yelled, but there was no need. The moment the word fire was spoken, panic ensued as bodies stampeded for the exits.
Screams abounded as Charlotte tried to make her way to her family. But she was too far away, and the crowd surged in the opposite direction.
Smoke tickled her nose as she skirted the edge of the room. She could see her parents frantically searching the floor for her as they moved toward a door, but they didn't see her.
"Mother!" Her call didn't move past the screams in the room. She would have to find them outside in the madness.
She pressed against the wall, desperate to escape the crowd and reach the door quicker.
Hands shot out from an alcove, gripping her as they yanked her into darkness. Relief swelled within her. She should have known Derek would come for her. "We should head outside."
His hands snaked around her waist, gripping her hard. Charlotte glanced at the livery sleeve in confusion a second before she kicked in panic. The assailant yanked her hard against him, knocking the breath from her.
A knife pricked under her chin. "If you scream, I'll kill you."
* * *
Derek smelled smoke before the alarm sounded. It wasn't strong. About the same as one smells when an ember singes a rug, but it was the beginning of something unstoppable.
His eyes darted across the room to Charlotte, knowing there'd be no way to get to her before panic set in.
"Fire!" the cry rose.
The crowd moved as one. Once caught in the flood to the door, no one was released. And Derek happened to be standing by an exit.
Damn.
A woman shrieked, discombobulating him, but he maneuvered toward the edge of the mass.
He kept his attention riveted to Charlotte as she crept alongside an opposite wall, searching for her family, no doubt. There'd be no way to get to them in time.
Stay there, he willed her from the distance. If he could see her, he had a chance of protecting her. But if she left the building without him …
He pushed past people with renewed vigor. He would reach her before something went wrong.
A woman fell to the ground, crying out as people stomped over her. He hesitated only a second, taking in Charlotte's position before blocking the woman's body and lifting her up and out of danger.
She didn't thank him as she scrambled toward the door.
A scream penetrated the group, and Derek knew it was Charlotte. Pivoting toward where he'd last seen her, his eyes darted around. He couldn't find her.
"Charlotte!" he yelled. "Charlotte!" He charged forward, not caring whom he pushed aside. She couldn't have exited the room in the few seconds he'd looked away.
His fingers scraped along the textured wall beneath silk draperies, looking for any sign of where she'd gone. The wall gave way behind one of the coverings, and he yanked the fabric aside, revealing a service hallway.
Empty. And no sign of Charlotte.
He plunged into the dimly lit walkway. His gut told him she was here, and it was never wrong. He took the service stairs two at a time.
A muffled scream sounded a second before a knife flew past his face and burrowed into the doorjamb.
Charlotte's attacker threw her to the floor and launched himself at Derek. But Derek was ready. He was always ready.
Panic widened the man's eyes.
Good. Panicked men made sloppy fighters.
Feign left. Duck. Lunge back. Combat was a matter of patience. Of precision. Of timing.
Derek's opponent lowered his hands for a split second. Derek attacked with cold ruthlessness, jabbing where it would do the most damage with the least exertion.
The man howled as blood gushed down his face. Gut punch. Left. Right. Undercut.
The attacker's eyes rolled back into his head as he hit the floor.
Derek stepped over the body and hauled Charlotte up against him. He cradled her, checking for injuries. "Are you all right?"
Her chin shook. "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."
He could have. He would have.
Derek wanted to set her aside and finish what he started. The man deserved to die.
Derek's chest heaved. It would take one second to kill him. He'd be so quick, Charlotte wouldn't even know it'd happened.
Charlotte shivered in his arms, and he pulled her closer, blocking violent thoughts. The man would have to wait. Charlotte took priority, and he needed to remove her from the premises. "Follow me." He studied her glazed eyes. "Can you do that?"
"Yes."
He set her away from him in degrees, testing her ability to stand. When he was certain she wouldn't faint, he took her hand. "Don't let go of me for any reason until we're outside with others."
His senses remained heightened, filtering every sound, evaluating threats. Every dark room, every dim corridor held a possible assailant.
He led her through a side door, and they both sucked in gulps of fresh air. Cries sounded around the house as people searched for loved ones. No flames were visible from the outside of the residence, but smoke still permeated the air.
"Are you well?" he asked again.
"I will be."
Her sheet-white cheeks were gaining some color, which relieved him, and her eyes cleared. She would survive this. He knew she would.
Unable to stop himself, he cupped her face, stroking a thumb over her cold cheeks. Her eyes darted to his, questioning, but he didn't answer at first, allowing the moment to continue. "Do you know where your family will be?"
"No, but they'd never leave me."
No. They wouldn't. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to leave without her. He certainly couldn't walk away from this woman, his wo-
He reeled back. He couldn't afford such thoughts. His desire was a distraction, a distraction he couldn't afford if he planned to keep her alive.
"Let's find them." He gestured for her to lead. It wouldn't be proper to hold her hand now that they were outside and others would see them. Even with a fire, he must appear completely in line with societal standards.
"What will happen now?" she asked, without turning toward him. "They know who I am."
"I will make sure your house is secure for the night. My men will guard you. You don't need to worry. They may know who you are, but they won't get to you. And tomorrow, we'll be gone."
She didn't answer, just made her way down the garden path. She paused, her posture seeming to wilt. "I wish we could leave now. I cannot bear the thought-"