“Just . . . read it? Please.” He’s written my name on it. His penmanship is excellent.

“Sure.”

“Bennet.” He has one hand on the curtain of the coat closet and starts to draw it back. “I’m going to fix this,” he says firmly. “Everything with Jane and Charles. I’m sorry. I’m going to take care of it.” His gaze drifts over my face, darting lower just long enough to test my resolve. His eyes meet mine again, and he smiles. “I’d really like a chance for better circumstances.”

He passes through the curtain. I wait a beat, wondering—hoping?—he’ll come back, then sag into the wall again. The lack of oxygen and rerouted blood flow and the sheer unbelievability of what just happened set the room spinning around me. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Holy . . .

I shake my head, trying to rattle my brain back online, while the tightness low in my belly makes a compelling case for throwing myself out of the room and up the stairs after him. I force myself to wait in the alcove for another minute before exiting. Disappointment blooms when I see that neither guest waiting for the restrooms is Darcy loitering for a second round of ravishment.

The envelope is heavy in my hands. Better circumstances . . .

I’m still in a daze as I stagger toward the dressing room. My lips are tender, buzzing from the friction, and my blood thrills through my veins. I run my index finger along the bottom of my corset, finding the errant bit of metal responsible for cutting the interlude short. I don’t know whether to curse the thing or thank it. If it hadn’t poked me, how much farther would his hand have gone?

Andrea intercepts me in the hall. She swirls her martini. “You missed the Twins’ silk. Ginn had to wrap it after the set.”

I stop short. Shit—I forgot about their performance. Or, really, the world, for a few minutes. “I’m so sorry, Andrea. I—”

“It’s sound, luv.” Her voice is gentle. “They explained what happened on the stairs, said you might be needing a moment.” She purses her red lips. “That handsy bastard. The nerve of some people! We got rid of him, just so you know. The staff’s been informed, and Martin will keep an eye out at the door. He’s not welcome here again.” She pats me on the shoulder. “We always have your back, you girls. And those stairs are treacherous.” Her tone is leading. “Good thing we have liability insurance.”

I smile, blinking back sudden tears. Whether the house would back me up didn’t even cross my mind; I guess I took it for granted that they would.

Andrea must see how close I am to crying, because her head cocks sympathetically. She lets out a gentle, “Oh, kitty cat.”