Chapter 42
The blackness faded. Concordia lifted her head from the bed. She cautiously propped herself on her elbows and waited for a dizzying wave of nausea to pass. She was alone in what appeared to be a man’s bedroom, with framed paintings of horses on the walls.
Where was she? It was an enormous effort to concentrate. Then she remembered. The masquerade ball. Randolph Maynard’s country house. She must be in Maynard’s bedroom. She didn’t like the thought of that.
What happened?
Concordia tentatively shifted her legs over the side, and fingered the silk of her ball gown, trying to remember.
The bedroom door opened, and Lily Isley walked in with a tray.
“Oh, my dear! Thank goodness you’re awake. I’ve been so worried.” Lily set down the tray and felt Concordia’s forehead. “An illn
