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My fate is in your hands. It would be a perfect sentence to end a scene. Having read plenty of romantic novels, Beatrice knew that. Yet, she couldn’t make herself move.

If she wasn’t so absorbed by her thoughts, if her heart wasn’t beating loudly in her chest, drowning out all other noise, perhaps she would have noticed it sooner. But at that moment, another carriage stopped right before them. The door flung open, and a tall, angry, and rather disheveled gentleman stepped out on the pavement.

Chapter 3

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Adam snatched his hand back as he heard the familiar roar. Miss Fowley blinked, her large eyes looking quite surprised and comical behind her spectacles. She reminded Adam of an owl, and he almost laughed out loud.

He turned toward their intruder with a resigned sigh. “Good evening, brother.”

“Good eve—” Gage paused and stepped closer. “Adam? What in the hell are you doing here?”

Behind him, a footman helped a woman out of the carriage. Wearing a simple day gown, Miss Josephine Claremont, as she was known by most, but more accurately Lady Gage, appeared, illuminated by the limited carriage light.

“I am certain there is no need to bark, dear,” she said softly. “Everything can be resolved in a civilized tone.”

“Civilized?” Gage roared, his lips thin with anger.

“Beatrice, lovely to see you again,” the viscountess crooned. Then she dipped into a curtsy. “Mr. Lewis.”

“Yes, lovely,” Gage growled. “Now tell me, what in the world is going on here?”

Miss Fowley finally seemed to have recovered from her shock. “My lord, what a surprise,” she said with a tiny curtsy.

“Oh, I am certain it is a surprise. What are you doing, gallivanting about town in the middle of the night? And visiting Hades’ masquerade of all the damned places? Don’t you know how dangerous that place is?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her for the past hour, but does she listen?” Adam muttered under his breath.

Miss Fowley frowned at Adam and opened her mouth to say something, but Gage quickly cut her off as he turned toward Adam. “And what are you doing here?”

“Escorting Miss Fowley home,” he replied evenly. “I met her at the masquerade and thought she’d be safer with me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Adam wasn’t surprised to find out that his brother already knew of Miss Fowley’s earlier escapades in Hades Hell. He was more surprised that he hadn’t expected to see Adam. Gage had a habit of spying on people he deemed important to him.

“That is rather fortunate for you, Miss Fowley.” Gage turned toward her. “Now, tell me, why were you in Hades’ Hell?”

Under the scorching gaze of Viscount Gage, people had a tendency to blubber and spill all their secrets. But surprisingly, not Miss Fowley. Instead of taking a step back and hiding her eyes, she raised her head high to meet the viscount’s gaze. “And how do you know where I was tonight?” Gage opened his mouth and then quickly closed it, having found nothing to say. Miss Fowley didn’t relent. “Have you had me followed?”

“Of course, I had you followed,” Gage confessed without skipping a beat. “Do you think I would leave you without protection?”

“Protection? Or control?” Miss Fowley folded her arms under her breasts, her chest heaving.

Adam found himself staring in awe at the young lady. He hadn’t expected such brazenness from her. Jo covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes were filled with laughter.

“Miss Fowley,” Gage ground out, seemingly unperturbed. “I can’t in good conscience leave a young lady without having my people keep an eye on her. I am responsible for you. You can call it control or whatever else you like. I call it common sense.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” Miss Fowley lifted her chin, “I am not your wife. You do not get to dictate what I do or do not do. You forfeited your right to control me when we broke our betrothal. When I gave your freedom back.”

Jo let out a laugh. “She isn’t wrong.”

Gage turned toward his wife. “My dear, do you mind not siding against me?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “I am just pointing out that you have no say over Beatrice’s actions. I know that you’re worried about her, but she is not your wife. She isn’t even your fiancée anymore.”

“Thank you,” Miss Fowley said softly, her eyes glinting with gratitude.

“Not that my actual wife ever listens to me,” Gage muttered under his breath. “Miss Fowley, you might not be my bride, but as long as you’re living under the roof of a house I am paying for, you are under my protection.”