His face lit in appreciation, and he joined her with his own laughter. Then he pulled away and, while still holding fast to her hand, ran with her farther into the gardens.

After a few moments, they approached a maze and slowed in front of it.

“Dare we enter?” Matteo’s eyebrow rose in challenge.

“We might never return, be lost to its depths forever.”

“A delightful thought, if I am being candid.”

Scarlet looked up at him through her lashes. “Agreed.”

He reached for her hand, and they moved forward through the first of the tall hedges that marked the beginning.

They had not walked two steps before Baron and Baroness Pinckney approached.

“Lovely dancing, my dears. I must say, the French could teach us some wonderfully daring moves.” Lady Pinckney looked meaningfully at Matteo, who appeared to misunderstand.

“We do have excellent instructors, Lady Pinckney.”

She pouted and sidled closer to him, which caused him to lean more into Scarlet, who nearly lost her footing from the shift in his balance.

They caught each other’s eyes and fought smiles.

Disappointment dimmed Scarlet’s heart, but a glimmer of sense also returned. For once, she was grateful for a Pinckney interruption. “Ah, my lady! How lovely to see you, and we are of the same mind—a tour of the gardens.”

“Yes, they are far lovelier in the daytime, though. Not entirely sure what we are thinking, out here at this time of night.” Lady Pinckney gestured to the night sky.

Not rising to her bait, Scarlet said, “Well, as for us, we were just about to conquer this maze. But I thank you for your arrival, as I recognize minutes have passed and we are neglecting the most talked-about social event of the Season.” She pressed into Matteo’s forearm.

“Ah, yes, too true, my lady. Baron, Baroness, shall we make our way back to the ballroom?”

The baron’s eyes twinkled as he said, “To be sure. I do believe we could catch a chill out here.”

With that, the four of them made their way to the terrace and through a pair of back doors into the ballroom.

Several ladies approached Scarlet, with hopeful eyes turned in Matteo’s direction. She made all the introductions, and Matteo bowed over each lady’s offered hand. He asked the woman nearest him for the next set.

Before they could make their way to the floor, Suzanne and Andrew approached. She reached out a hand to stop him. “Comte Durand?”

Matteo turned in surprise. “Suzanne de Molier. How fortunate to meet one of my fellow French.” He bowed over her hand.

She stiffened. “Some of us are truly French, while others are merely pawns of the Revolution. I wonder how you could break away from your dear Éléonore.”