I cowered against the wall, horrified. He knew I’d heard that whole conversation—I could tell as soon as he looked at me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, walking so fast I had to run. The haughty footman scrambled behind us. “Erich—” “We’re leaving. Now.” The servant called down the hall, “My lord!” I glanced over my shoulder. Tirienne’s outraged face was framed by the salon doorway. “Hurry.” Erich hauled me out the front door and along the sidewalk. “Erich, they’ll come after us. We can’t run.” “Oh, don’t worry, my mother would never soil her dignity by chasing her son through Murana.” Still holding my arm, he loped away from the townhouse. I gathered my skirt into my free hand and matched his steps. He angled into a tiny alleyway overhung by tall buildings.
