Drew swept Mabel up into his arms and barreled his way through the frenzied crowd, kicking and jabbing with his elbows. The men were out of their minds, grabbing for Mabel’s skirts, beating on him, trying to tear her from his grasp. Drew lowered his shoulder and rammed it straight into the chest of the Duke of Thurston, praying the man wouldn’t remember him in the morning.
He tore down the hall, the mob at his heels. Even with Mabel in his arms, Drew had the advantage. He’d explored every inch of this house, knew every hall and staircase. They were burned into his memory, and he could navigate them even in the dark. He spun and swerved, racing down corridors and through rooms—some occupied, some not—moving higher and higher until the last of his pursuers fell away.
Gasping for breath, his muscles burning, he pushed through one final doorway, set Mabel on her feet, and sagged against the wall. A musty scent tickled his nose and he sneezed. He fumbled in his pocket for the torch, flicking it on to illuminate the cluttered attic space.
Like the folly, it was exactly how he remembered: unused furniture, trunks and boxes packed with odds and ends, the terrifying taxidermied fox with its beady eyes and unnatural posture.
Mabel hurried over to a chest of drawers and put her shoulder against it, trying to push it. It groaned and screeched as it scraped across the floor, inch by tiny inch. Drew moved to help her, his arms and legs still aching, but having caught his breath again.
Together, they maneuvered the bureau in front of the door, barring anyone who might track them here. Drew set the torch atop it, lighting up most of the room. He didn’t trust any of the old chairs to hold his weight, so he settled on the sturdiest-looking trunk, motioning to Mabel to take a seat atop another box opposite him.
Instead she plopped down right beside him, seizing his hand in both of hers. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
As his body recovered, his brain at last began to process everything that had happened during the last few minutes. “Bloody fucking hell,” he cursed, his language causing Mabel to emit a shocked gasp. “What was that?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’ve made a terrible mess of everything.”
“You?” He put an arm around her, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Those men made the mess. They were insane! What have they been drinking?”
She shook her head, still refusing to look up at him. “It’s not them. It was me. I drank an allure potion. It was supposed to draw attention. Make men notice me so they would ask me to dance.” She heaved a sigh, then straightened up. “Well, they did. They wanted to dance, they wanted to marry me, they wanted… other things. Dozens of them, fighting for my attention, grabbing at me. That’s why I fled to the folly. Any man who looked at me wanted me. And it seems to only have gotten worse.”
“Fucking hell,” he repeated.
This time she didn’t flinch, merely nodded. “So now you understand.”
“No. I don’t understand. I’ve seen allure potions. They’re common enough. Even in Egypt I’m occasionally invited to English-style parties, and such potions are used by both men and women. They compel you to look, spark your interest, but they don’t do that.” Drew had danced with plenty of women who had drunk such potions and never once had he lost control the way the men at tonight’s ball seemed to have.
“That’s what I thought, too. I thought it was harmless. All I wanted was to make enough people notice me that I could dance. And Susan’s been studying potions. She would know better than to give me something harmful.”
Drew drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. “How much of it did you drink?”
“One tiny vial. Exactly what Susan gave me. She seemed surprised at how suddenly and strongly it worked, but the crush of men separated us and I wasn’t able to speak to her about it.”
“Well, the good news is that potions wear off. By tomorrow all those men will want nothing to do with you anymore.” And thank God for that. Fighting off drug-crazed suitors hadn’t been part of his proposal plan.
Mabel turned away. “I know.” She pushed herself up from the trunk and paced to the window, staring out at the snow, now falling steadily. Melancholy hung over her like a shroud, hunching her shoulders, muffling her voice. Why? Would she regret the loss of someone’s attention?
Drew’s gut twisted sharply. Just because she didn’t have a fiancé didn’t mean she didn’t want one. And he’d gone and kissed her.
An involuntary shudder shook him. Good Lord, that kiss. He’d wanted to stand there forever, kissing her, soaking up the sweetness of her lips, inhaling the piney fragrance of her skin cream—she hadn’t given up her teenage habit of matching her scents to the seasons, and he adored that about her. A hint of it lingered on his jacket, sharpening the memory, making him yearn for the press of her body to his own.
He forced his gaze away from her. Being here alone with her was a terrible idea. He didn’t want to tempt her into any unwanted kisses. He didn’t want her reputation ruined if anyone found them together. Yet he couldn’t leave her. Not until the potion had worn off. Some of the men would resist the magic and remove themselves from her presence. Others would beg but do her no harm. Too many, though, would take advantage of the circumstances, in whatever way they could. Even if Mabel didn’t want him, Drew would put her safety above all other concerns. He wasn’t leaving her side for an instant.
He rose from his seat. They may have been in a cluttered attic, but that was no excuse for ungentlemanly behavior. “Mabel, is something wrong? I think we’re safe here, but you still seem unhappy. This wasn’t your fault, you know. The potion was tainted, or it reacted badly with your drink or… or something.” He didn’t know enough about potions to guess. They fueled his lanterns and healed sickness and injuries at his dig sites, and he didn’t usually think much more on it.
She turned to face him at last. “I’m fine. Everything will be fine. I will rest here, and by morning it will all have passed.”
She shivered, just for an instant, but Drew caught it. The attic was chilly and would only grow colder as the night went on. They’d need to wrap up to remain here. He lifted the lid of a trunk, hoping to find a blanket inside. Instead he found a pile of old clothing. Familiar clothing. They’d played kings and queens, knights, warriors, fairies, and more with these. The memory brought a smile to his face.
“I think we will want a few more layers if we’re to stay in the attic all night. Would you like to help me dig through these boxes?” He plopped a ridiculous, floppy hat on his head. It fit better now but probably looked even worse on him than it had when he was a boy. “For old times’ sake?”
Mabel stared at him for several seconds, then burst out laughing. “That would be an excellent way to pass the time, thank you.”