“My lady? Are you in there?” Charity’s voice called.
Sabrina snapped her attention to Constantine. “Go through my bedroom.”
He nodded and slipped from the dressing chamber, blowing a kiss to her on his way out.
Checking her appearance in the glass, Sabrina decided she would use the temperature of the drawing room to excuse her flushed complexion. She opened the door with as much composure as she could muster. “Yes, Charity?”
The maid’s tawny eyes were wide with concern. “I’m so glad I found you. I’m afraid there’s a…problem.”
Sabrina’s stomach dropped all the way down to the kitchen. “What?” The word was barely audible.
“Grayson has found his way into the drawing room during a reel. He was last seen in the dining room where he absconded with a piece of pheasant.” The maid looked as if she wanted to cry, which was precisely how Sabrina felt.
Chapter 19
When Constantine had left Sabrina just a few moments earlier, she’d been bright-faced and smiling. As he encountered her in the hall at the top of the stairs, she was pale, her eyes wide with something akin to panic.
He rushed to her side. “What’s happened?”
“It’s the cat. We must find him before he can wreak more damage.”
“Where is he?” Constantine whipped his head around as if he would see the animal racing by.
“He was last observed in the dining room stealing pheasant.”
Constantine let out a soft curse. This was followed by a shriek from the bottom of the stairs.
Their eyes met as they silently communicated that they had found Grayson.
Starting down the stairs, Constantine nearly tripped as the cat ran by his feet. “Watch out!” he called, turning to make sure the animal didn’t cause Sabrina to fall. Thankfully, she was still at the top of the stairs.
A footman dashed after Grayson, who veered left toward the drawing room, in pursuit. Haddock followed soon after, pausing just long enough to assure Constantine that he would have his resignation in the morning.
“The hell I will,” Constantine muttered. He refused to lose a perfectly good butler over the antics of a cat.
Sabrina pivoted and hastened after the footman toward the drawing room. Constantine took the stairs two at a time as shouts and a crash signaled the cat’s impact where the majority of the guests were gathered.
Arriving at the threshold, he surveyed the room. The musicians were no longer playing, and the dancers stood amidst the now-ruined chalk images that kept them from slipping on the floor, their gazes darting about, undoubtedly in search of a small gray terror.
“Where did he go?” Constantine asked loudly, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
“We can’t see him,” Lord Wexford responded from the other side of the room. “It’s possible that when Lady Fairweather ducked into the retiring room to avoid the animal, it slipped inside with her?” Lucien’s friend grimaced, his eyes sympathetic.
Constantine started toward the door at the opposite end, noting Sabrina to his right as she joined him. A loud, sustained cry from inside the room spurred them faster, and Constantine indicated that Sabrina should look inside since the space was designated for ladies.
“Wait,” Haddock said, coming abreast of Constantine. “Let me position myself to grab him when you open the door. He will likely dash out.” He looked to Sabrina. “Open it a very small amount.”
Sabrina nodded and Haddock crouched down right at the door. Exchanging a look with the butler, Sabrina did as he suggested and barely cracked the door. Haddock knew his cat, for the beast ran straight into the man’s clutches. He stood and there was a resounding cheer from the drawing room as he carried the cat from the room.
Constantine’s entire body slouched as the tension drained from him. Sabrina, however, did not look as if she was even slightly relieved.
“I’ll go check on Lady Fairweather.” She was pale, her eyes glazed with trepidation. This was a horrible situation for her. He struggled to find how to fix it.
Knowing the anxiety this must be causing her, he wanted to tell her to retire, that she needn’t face this. But if she didn’t, her absence would only further mar the event, which was fast becoming somewhat of a disaster. His heart ached. This was not how tonight was supposed to happen.
Sabrina slipped into the retiring room and closed the door. Pivoting, Constantine registered that all eyes were on him. This never happened unless he was delivering a speech in the Commons.
Wexford clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Well, that was certainly entertaining. I daresay no one will forget this ball!” He spoke loudly and laughed, then looked about. “I need a drink so I can make a toast.”
A footman rushed over with a tray bearing punch with too little ice. Constantine clenched his jaw.
Snatching a glass from the tray, Wexford held it up as the footman rushed to deliver the remaining glasses and other footmen did the same. “To Lord and Lady Aldington and their wonderfully imperfect ball. It is as we all are—starting with the best intentions and making do with what happens along the way.”
There was a satisfying—and perhaps surprising—chorus of “Hear hear!” Belatedly, Constantine realized he didn’t have a drink. A footman pressed one into his hand. Thankfully, it was a brandy. Constantine sent the man a silent look of gratitude, then swallowed the entire contents. He was immediately glad he had, for the next crisis had already arrived.
His father was bearing down on him, his eyes practically black with anger. He spoke low so that no one would hear him but hard. “A word, Aldington. In your study.” Without waiting for Constantine’s response, he spun about and left the drawing room.
Honestly, Constantine couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to seek him out. The confrontation had to happen. Constantine would ensure it was over quickly. Squaring his shoulders, he thanked Wexford for his words and delivered his empty glass to a footman before starting downstairs.
Just outside the drawing room, he ran into Mrs. Haddock, who looked as if she’d been crying. He paused and motioned for her to move to the side with him. “You mustn’t feel upset about the cat. I refuse to accept your or Haddock’s resignations. We must simply find a way to keep Grayson contained at certain times, and we can discuss that tomorrow. In the meantime, try to make sure he’s locked away for the duration of the ball. Will you check on Lady Aldington in the ladies’ retiring room? She is soothing Lady Fairweather, who seemed to be overly distressed by a small bundle of fur.” He cracked a smile at the housekeeper, who dashed a hand over her eyes.
“You are the kindest of employers, my lord. I am so very sorry.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Haddock. Just please take care of the countess.”
“Right away.” She took off down the corridor, avoiding the drawing room.
Exhaling, Constantine made his way downstairs, glad for the brandy now warming his insides. Lucien stopped him in the gaming room to ask if everything was all right. “I hear the cat has been caught,” he said.
“Yes. The threat has been removed. Your friend Wexford gave a delightful toast upstairs. I thanked him, but please let him know how much I appreciate it.”