“Unless she’s the size of a barn cat, she couldn’t fit under there, Harvey.” This came from a fourth man in the room. Possibly Lord Anniston, but Celia wasn’t sure. “Perhaps Rose is right. You left our card game some time ago. Maybe after too much of Ravenswood’s excellent brandy, you found a cozy spot here by the fire and dozed off. Maybe you dreamed Lady Celia was here.”

“I did not dream it. She was here. I can smell her perfume.” Robert’s voice was terse.

“I smell nothing, my lord,” Gabriel said calmly.

Celia watched with one eye as Robert moved toward the floor-to-ceiling windows just beyond the divan. He shook the heavy drapes as though Celia might tumble out of the fabric’s folds. “I did not imagine kissing her, nor how she filled my hands—”

“Careful, my lord.” Gabriel’s low growl was a warning of such violence it cut Robert off in mid-sentence. “It’s unwise maligning a guest of Lord Ravenswood. You risk offending our host, as well as the Earl of Darby and the lady’s brother.”

The man Celia thought was Anniston spoke up. “Come along now, Harvey. Let’s get you cleaned up and see the damage in better light. I believe you will require a stitch or two if you are to keep that pretty face of yours intact.”

“Tiny stitches are best, provided there is someone skilled with a needle up and about at this hour. Your valet, perhaps?” Gabriel’s voice grew distant as the men’s receding footsteps indicated their departure. “You certainly do not wish to end up with a scar like mine.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Celia leaned away from the sliver of light. She rubbed her eyes, easing the strain she’d placed on them.

There was the slight swish of the library doors closing, men’s rumbling voices, then nothing.

Complete silence.

Celia’s breath hung in her throat while the eerie stillness stretched on. Now that the danger of discovery was over, the darkness around her was growing. But as her heart pounded like exploding cannons in her ears, and her lungs expanded and deflated with increasingly shallow pants for oxygen, she heard glass touching glass followed by a sigh of satisfaction.

Once again, she placed one eye to the panel’s crack. Her mouth formed an incredulous “oh!”

Gabriel refilled the abandoned glass tumbler with a healthy splash of brandy and downed it.

The insufferable cad! Has he forgotten he locked me in this space the size of a broom closet? How dare he—

“I’ve not forgotten about you,” Gabriel stated calmly as though he could plainly hear her innermost thoughts. He poured yet another glass of brandy and took a more deliberate sip.

Celia sucked in another deep, shallow breath. Did his tone carry a thread of amusement? And was it her imagination, or was the space around her becoming steadily darker?

Gabriel continued speaking, oblivious that Celia’s panic was increasing by the second. “Lord Harvey might return, and I’ll not risk being discovered here with you. My efforts in concealing your presence would be for naught. So, my lady, you shall remain where you are until I am certain they will not come back.”