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“FOUR! THREE!”

“Let me go!” I shouted again.

He did not, and nobody paid me any attention. The new century was almost upon us and they didn’t want to miss a moment of the celebration.

“TWO! ONE! Happy new year!”

The musicians struck up the tune ofAuld Lang Syneas revelers clapped. Applause soon turned to gasps and squeals of delight as the ribbons above their heads gave way and the silver balloons rained down.

Mr. Hookly continued to smile at me as I continued to try to break free. I even called out for help, but the applause, music and loud chatter drowned me out. And then the slowly sinking balloons reached us. In the moment before they drifted past our faces, Mr. Hookly’s smile thinned.

“Let me go!” I shouted in a last ditch effort to be heard.

“Who’s that?” came a gentleman’s voice nearby. “Everyone all right?”

He couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see him with the hundreds of balloons floating to the floor. A balloon burst, then another and another. Guests squealed in fright and delight.

I opened my mouth to scream, but Mr. Hookly pulled me against him and clamped his hand over my mouth. Before the balloons had completely sunk out of the way, he ushered me out of the ballroom.

We were in the service area. There would be footmen coming this way very soon with more champagne and food. They would see me struggling with Mr. Hookly and come to my rescue.

But before we’d got far, he opened a door and shoved me through.

My back slammed into shelves, rattling what sounded like crockery and cutlery. Mr. Hookly had let me go to lock the door, but he hadn’t turned on the light. It was so dark I couldn’t even make out his silhouette.

He couldn’t see me either.

I crouched low, and just in time too. The contents of the shelves rattled again, louder this time, and something fell, breaking on the floor. He must have lunged in my direction but missed.

I reached out and realized how small the storeroom was. My fingers brushed shards of a broken vase or bowl. The fingers of my other hand touched Mr. Hookly’s leg, alerting him to my position.

I scampered away just as his hand swiped down, knocking my cheek.

“I’ll get you, Miss Fox. There’s no way you can get out.”

That meant he stood between me and the door now. But he couldn’t hurt me if he couldn’t capture me. And he couldn’t capture me if he couldn’t find me.

I had to remain silent long enough to draw him away from the door to come looking. I remained low to the floor, cursing the tight bodice. I held my breath, but it might not have mattered. His own breathing would have drowned mine out. His breath came hard, as if he’d just run up and down all of the hotel’s stairs. The sound filled the small space, as well as my ears along with the thumping of my blood in my veins.

The door handle rattled. “Is someone in there?” came a man’s voice.

“Yes!” I cried. “Help!”

My voice gave away my position. Mr. Hookly reached out and grabbed my hair. He pulled me up, dislodging my headpiece and Harmony’s elegant arrangement.

I hissed in pain and clasped his wrist in an attempt to ease the burn across my scalp.

“Miss Fox?” came the voice outside. “Mr. Armitage, I think she’s in here!”

I went to call out again but Mr. Hookly’s hand clamped over my mouth. He pulled me back against his body.

“Don’t say a word,” he growled.

Someone banged on the door. “Miss Fox!” It was Mr. Armitage. “Miss Fox, are you in there?”

My heart pounded, trying to burst out of my chest. I closed my eyes. Not that it mattered. I still couldn’t see in the dark.

“Get a key!” Mr. Armitage shouted. “Someone get a damned key off Chapman!”