"Watch."

The whisper in her ear was definitely from the devil. Or its spawn.

"Watch," he whispered again. "And maybe you can learn."

She snapped her eyes open and glared at him. His eyes glimmered with mirth. How could he find amusement in this? Not far away, two lovers were doing...They were...

She couldn't even bring herself to form words to name whatever they were doing.

But she had no choice. She couldn't push Knight away even if she wanted to. Otherwise, they'd be found out. And that could lead to more problems.

She gave him a sharp look, and he bowed down in surrender. Well, at the very least, he knew when to stop with the teasing.

Clenching her teeth, she closed her eyes and waited in agony as the lovers continued their assault on each other, panting like they were running miles. It was torture for Camila and she couldn't wait for it to be over. But when the woman's muffled cry reached her, and the man's growl followed, she felt a chill all over and a weird feeling shot in her stomach.

Her heart raced and her blood rushed to her ears.

Looking up, she watched the lovers kissing, laughing as they caught their breaths, while she, on the other hand, had lost hers.

The woman landed back on both feet and righted her skirts. The man buttoned his trousers and tucked his shirt. They fixed each other's hair and shared another kiss. They had done this too many times, Camila thought as the pair walked away.

"They're gone," Knight whispered.

She did not realize he had kept his head bent and only looked up when the coast was clear.

Without a word, Camila crawled out of the hedge and stiffly walked away.

"Your face is flushed, my lady," he said, tone teasing.

"Stop following me."

"Aren't we going to look for your cousin?" he asked as she scurried out of the garden.

"No. You may leave me alone now."

"I'm right," he said, catching up with her pace. "You don't have a lover."

"Stop following me."

"I'm not. I'm headed the same way."

They reached the vestibule that led back to the ballroom. She turned to the path that would lead her into a corridor, which would lead to a series of social rooms.

"Stop following me!" she hissed.

"I'm not. I'm also headed this way." He nonchalantly walked beside her, keeping up the pace when she walked faster. "I sense you did not enjoy what you witnessed."

"It's utterly coarse and obscene and completely improper."

"It is a very natural act."

"Not in a garden!"

"Well, it can happen wherever, actually."

"And that woman was committing blasphemy."

He laughed out loud, then stopped cold when they saw a group of women walking toward them from the end of the corridor. Camila scowled and gasped in surprise when he grabbed her hand and pushed her inside an empty drawing room.

"What are you doing?"

"It's my mother," he said. "She's desperate to find me a wife, see? And if she sees us together..." He shrugged. "Well, let's just say you wouldn't like it."

"But I can just say—"

"Shh!" He placed a finger over her mouth.

They both froze, listening as the women's voices grew louder, stopping behind the door.

"Go, go, go," Knight murmured, pushing her toward a closet.

Camila went cold, shaking her head, but the door was opening.

Knight, already inside the closet, grabbed her hand and pulled, closing the closet door just as the women filed into the room.

The air was suddenly too thin as Camila closed her eyes against the darkness. She tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn't do so without being heard. As the women continued their conversation outside, talking about the duchess and her predicament about her son's lack of interest in marriage, Camila dug a finger into the center of her hand.

She needed to focus on something else. Needed the pain. She had to take her mind elsewhere, because if she didn't... If she didn't, the closet would take her back to that night.

She buried her head between her knees, pushing her feet against the ground, sliding into the deepest corner behind the coats hanging above them. She didn't realize she was shaking until she felt a hand over hers.

Her head snapped and in the darkness, she saw Knight looking at her with concern. He probably didn't know. Of course, he didn't. How could he? She always made certain that no one knew how darkness and close spaces tormented her to this day.

No one knew she couldn't sleep without a candle burning in the room. They didn't notice the cold sweat that would break out of her temples every time she was forced into a cramped room. They didn't know each breath was an excruciating struggle.

Perhaps sensing her icy hand, Knight slid closer and gathered her other hand in both of his, enclosing them with his warmth.

She tried to pull away, restless. It wasn't his touch, or the close proximity that made her want to shut him away. It was her visible vulnerability. The lack of control.

But the man was stubborn. He held her tightly, forcing her to look at him in silence. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. It wasn't pity, nor concern.

It was tenderness.

She didn't know him. Had no positive impressions of him. They were practically strangers. He was the last person she needed at that moment. The last man she would think of when she was drowning in terror. Yet there he was, stripped of his taunting and coquettish smile.

The most remarkable thing happened next. He gathered her in his arms and she let him. She let him because he took away the tremors with his powerful arms tight around her.

"Breathe." One murmured word against her temple. Enough to push air into her lungs. "It's all right."

And she almost believed it. She almost felt all right.

She flinched in his arms and he held her tighter. But he wasn't strong enough for the monsters in her head. Her breathing became more labored, and she fought against him.

"No, no, no," he whispered, drowning the voices outside the closet. He clasped her arms. "Look into my eyes. That's it. Focus. Stay with me. Look into my eyes. Just mine."

Camila's shaky breath slowed as she held his gaze, trusting his words. They were the only thing she could trust because hers were screaming for her to scramble out of the closet and risk a scandal.

She did not let go of his eyes. Focused on the tender globes. Just him.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that. It could have been a minute. An hour. Or even two.

She lost track of time and space.

It was only when he finally whispered, "They're gone," that she blinked and looked around.

And snap.

Camila scrambled out of his arms and stumbled out of the closet.

***

Knight followed Camila down the corridor in silence. What was there to say that would not make her escape him?

All he could manage was, "Allow me to escort you back to the ballroom."

To his surprise, she stiffly nodded as she blinked a few times, unconsciously righting her skirts. He could tell she was struggling. And he could tell she was embarrassed. But she didn't have to be. He understood her reaction inside the closet, and he had been mentally punching himself since he realized what he forced her into.

Knight came to a sudden halt when she stopped and stiffly faced him. He could have applauded her when she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin because he knew how much effort it took for her to appear composed.

"You must know I'm afraid of the dark."

He smiled. "And I'm also afraid of water." When she looked surprised, he shrugged. "I can't swim."

They stared at each other for a while. Then she blinked away and shook her head. "I can't stand closed spaces."

He racked his brain for another phobia. "I don't know how to cross the street." She frowned, and he shrugged. "I don't have the best perspective of distance or space. Won't even realize I'm five seconds from being trampled by a horse."

Her face started to relax and soften with the tiniest curl of a smile. "I..." She looked around, more confused now than agitated. "I need a drink."

"Now, that is one thing I'm not afraid of," he said, offering his arm.

She stared at it and he held his breath in anticipation, then grinned when she placed her hand under the crook of his arm.

They entered the ballroom and found a less crowded corner. "Maybe your cousin has returned," he said as they grabbed drinks from a server.

"I don't care anymore," she said, shaking her head. "She can do whatever she wants."

For a while, they watched the dancing in silence.

Knight was quite happy and content to stand beside her at that moment. After their adventures that evening, he wouldn't ask for more. However, Camila Comhar surprised him again by blurting out, "Every year, I get a task from Jamie."

He looked down at her, and she met his eyes. "I know of him," he softly answered her unspoken question.

She nodded. "Of course, you do," she murmured.

"What of his task?"

She did not answer for a while. "All of them have been possible up to this point." Her jaw tightened as her eyes followed the couples dancing the waltz. "This year he wants me to find someone. To not be alone."

His brow arched, remembering the conversation with Sophia during the picnic. Finally, the picture was getting clearer.

"Are you looking for a prospect, then?" he asked.

"I don't know. He gave me an impossible task."

"It's not impossible." She looked at him, not saying a word. "What I mean is—" He blinked at her with a frown. "Are you suggesting—"

Her face twisted. "No, of course not."

Knight did not know if he should be insulted. But he was most definitely disappointed. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well, isn't it too much if you force yourself to marry simply because it's a task?"

"Exactly."

Their eyes landed on the lovers they witnessed earlier in the garden. They were dancing, looking into each other's eyes, their little secret just between them.

"Get a lover then," he blurted out without thinking. Camila looked scandalized, probably not expecting the suggestion. "He never said you should marry, did he?"

It was then that he saw the realization kick her. "No, he didn't," she said, almost in wonder. Then, just as quickly, it vanished, and she said, "But after tonight..." She shuddered, "I don't know if such a thing aligns with my...interests."

He chuckled, shoulders shaking.

Oh, the things I want to teach you.

"What?" she asked, eyes wide with horror.

Did he say that out loud?

Again, Knight gave himself a mental kick.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I can teach you, you know," he said. A voice inside his head continued to chant the stupid song. But he couldn't look stupid in front of her.

"You're offering...lessons?"

He blinked a few times. That's not what he was thinking, but it was not a bad idea either. So he shrugged. "If you want."

Oh, God, what had he done? She was looking at him like he just presented her with the greatest deal of the lifetime.

"I'll think about it," she said, peeling her eyes off him.

And just like that, Knight knew he would be counting the days when she'd come to him and beg for a lesson.