Seth's face fell, and I regretted my harsh manner. It wasn't his fault that I was in this predicament. It was entirely Fitzroy's.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lady Harcourt raising her brows at him. See, she mouthed.

"Prepare the carriage," Fitzroy ordered his men.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as Gus and Seth left.

"Out." To Lady Harcourt, he said, "Does she have gloves?"

"I'll fetch them." She disappeared into the bedroom.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I told Fitzroy.

He said nothing, which worried me. I'd found he was far more dangerous when he didn't speak.

Lady Harcourt returned and handed me a pair of black gloves. "It's warm out and you won't require a coat." When I neither put on the gloves nor moved, she lifted her brows at Fitzroy. "Now what?"

Fitzroy put out his hand. I hesitated then placed the gloves on his palm. "What are you—?"

He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. One arm clamped across my kicking legs like a steel barrier, the other still clutched the gloves.

"Let me go!" I tried to straighten, but the corset not only made breathing difficult, it limited my movement. I squirmed instead, intent on not making it easy for him, but it made little difference. Besides, I was very aware that my bottom was close to his face. I might not be much of a lady, or want to be one, but wriggling my rear end in his face was not something I could bring myself to do. I stilled.

He carried me out of the room. Lady Harcourt followed behind us, her steps short and quick.

"Put me down!" I shouted.

"Don't bother screaming," he said as he descended the stairs. "Cook, Seth and Gus won't help you."

I called him every crude name I could think of, loudly, and pounded his back with my fists. Nothing made him stop, but at least he would sport bruises for a week. Not only did he not stop, he didn't slow down. Indeed, his pace quickened, and his steps became jauntier as we reached the next flight of stairs. It made for a very uncomfortable ride.

"You're deliberately being rough now," I snapped.

"This is my natural way of descending stairs."

"It is not. You've got the smoothest stride of anyone I've seen. It's why you're able to sneak up on people." I tried to twist to get a better look at him, but it was impossible. I could only see the back of his head. His unruly black hair was tied up with a leather strip. Perhaps if I pulled it…

Lady Harcourt clicked her tongue. "I'll need to fix her hair in the carriage."

"You're not coming with us," he said.

"I must! She needs a chaperone!"

He reached the base of the staircase and turned toward her as she stopped alongside us. I suspected he was bestowing one of his chilling glares on her because she stepped away.