“I’ve only just arrived. She’s upstairs?”

“Yes.” Miss Thorne scoffed. “Lord Exeter made a joke. He’s very droll, you know. A renowned wit. But of course Lottie mistook him. She didn’t say anything—Lord Exeter couldn’t even tell she was offended—but went directly to her room. That was nearly thirty minutes ago. People will start to notice soon. Really, it’s so unbecoming to exhibit such childish behavior during her own debut. If I had done such a thing at mine—”

“Thank you, Miss Thorne. I must go.” Alec pried her hand off him and maneuvered through the crowd. He exited the ballroom and took the servants’ staircase up to the third floor, where Lottie’s room overlooked the back garden. Her bedroom door was opened a crack, and a sliver of light illuminated the hall. The rich carpet masked Alec’s footfalls as he spied Lottie sitting on her bed with her back to the door. She wore an ivory satin ballgown that exposed a good bit of her slumped shoulders. Only in private would she allow her true feelings to show.

That old familiar surge of protectiveness flooded through Alec. Wit or no, Lord Exeter would not leave without hearing from him. He pushed the door open and Lottie turned around. Her cheeks were streaked with recently shed tears.

Lord Exeter might encounter his fists as well.

Lottie peered into the dark hallway as she hurriedly wiped her cheeks. “Is someone there?”

If Alec could have captured one perfect image from his entire life, it would have been the moment he stepped into Lottie’s bedroom. No one had ever looked so overjoyed, so relieved to see him. Not before, and certainly not since.

“Surprise,” he said with a smile as he held out his arms.

“Alec!” Lottie sprang up from the bed and ran right to him. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest. Alec hugged her close, not like he had in many years. Not since they were both children. But he hadn’t missed the way Lottie’s perfectly cut gown clung to her figure, or how her elegant coiffure, far more refined than Miss Thorne’s, showcased her delicate, heart-shaped face. She had grown into a beautiful young woman.

“Did the excavation finish early? Uncle Alfred said it wouldn’t end until December.” She pulled back. “Or have you come to tell him about Oxford?”

Lottie was the only one who knew of his secret wish. Her face was so full of fragile hope that Alec had to press his lips together to hold back the grimace. “No, it’s still going on. I could only get away for the night,” he reluctantly admitted. “And I…I haven’t decided about Oxford yet.”

What a coward he was.

“Oh.” She lowered her head, not even bothering to hide her disappointment.

He placed a finger under her chin and tilted it up. The sheen in her eyes tore at his heart. “Dear girl, I came here for you. Now, tell me. Why are you in your room?”