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Fumbling inside her pocket for her pocket watch, she squinted at it in the darkness. It was a few minutes to midnight.

She glanced back through the doorway only to see Thorn fixing his jacket over his disheveled shirt, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching for her.

Damn. She couldn’t go back and risk him catching her. And she couldn’t flee without relinquishing the ring.

Quite a predicament she’d gotten herself into. She was always getting herself and Honoria into trouble.

Honoria!

Oh, no! She couldn’t believe she had forgotten her friend inside. Where was she? Had she managed to warn her employer and escape? What if she’d been caught?

Lydia swore under her breath.

She couldn’t leave Honoria behind. She had to go back, no matter the risks.

Lydia moved to reenter the hell, but the crowd suddenly surged toward the exit, a human tide blocking her path. She found herself pushed even farther away from the hell, stumbling to keep her balance.

More and more people flooded the space before the main entrance, pressing in around her. The rowdy crowd jostled her from side to side until she managed to elbow her way closer to her waiting carriage. That’s where they’d agreed to meet anyway. Taking position in the shadows, she anxiously watched for any sign of Honoria.

What am I doing?

No—the real question was: What am I doing here?

She should get the ring to Miss Monroe now! Yet here she was, moving steadily away from the hell, the ring still on her finger where it had no right to be.

One minute ‘til midnight.

Finally, she spotted a familiar dark silhouette running toward her. Honoria emerged from the crowd, her wig askew, her gown disheveled, clutching torn pieces of her bodice together.

Oh, poor Honor! Guilt twisted in Lydia’s stomach. What had she endured in that hell? Had the mob trampled her? Or had something worse happened? Whatever it was…

Lydia was at fault. Again.

As Honoria reached her, Lydia grabbed her shoulders. “Honor, I’m sorry I just left you there.”

Honor opened her mouth to speak but could only gasp for air, clearly winded from her run.

Lydia squeezed Honoria’s arms, trying to ground both of them. “I’m sorry, but I failed. Again.”

“Lydia, I don’t think I can leave,” Honoria said at the same time.

They stared at each other in surprise.

“You couldn’t get the earl to leave—?”

“You didn’t get the jewel—?”

“You speak!” Lydia pulled Honoria closer to the carriage, shielding her from the crowd.

“No, you first!” Honoria leaned in, worry creasing her brow. She was worried about Lydia?

What an angel she was. Lydia didn’t deserve such a friend.

Lydia licked her lips, gathering her courage. “I did get the jewel.” She paused as Honoria watched her face intently. “I got it. But I didn’t give it to Miss Monroe.” She raised her hand, revealing the ring.

Honoria’s eyes widened as she looked from the jewel to Lydia’s face.

“I completely forgot about the time. I was too absorbed in… I couldn’t… When I left him, I just ran. I swear, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never been this reckless.” Lydia’s lips trembled, and Honoria squeezed her hands, her gaze concerned.