The dark club wasn't helping me to focus. No matter how many times I blinked, everything was still blurry, which made it difficult to glare at William with sufficient anger.

I didn't know why my mother had sent William to retrieve me. They ought to have sent Wyatt. At least he was annoyed enough at my having turned him down that he wouldn't try to talk to me more than was necessary. William made it his mission to remind me I was beneath him whenever we were in the same company. Then again, it was likely that Wyatt would have been turned away at the door. If Freddie's father owned the place and he was William's uncle, it followed that they wouldn't refuse him entry if he cut the line and demanded to be let through.

The atmosphere was a tense one, and neither boy seemed inclined to break eye contact and stand down first. Rather than bear witness to this stunning display of testosterone and entitlement, I announced, 'I'm gonna go get some air. You girls sort this out while I'm gone.'

Maintaining any measure of dignity was next to impossible as I stumbled and staggered toward the coat check. Walking in a straight line was more effort than I could muster. I eventually found my way to the exit with a lot of tripping over the stairs and mumbled, giggling apologies to the carpet as I dragged myself up and out into the brisk winter air. Paris was just as bitingly cold as England, and I turned up my coat collar to protect my neck from the chill. I stepped away from the queue and began a little way down the pavement, finding the isolation and cold to be both sobering and welcome.

In fact, I had half a mind to flag down a cab of my own and leave the pair to their argument while I made my way back to the house.

A raucous group of older men passed me, all reeking of booze and cigarette smoke. A couple spared me appreciative glances and made comments which sounded lewd but might have been anything. One of their group stumbled into me, knocking me sideways and sending me towards the ground. Before I made contact with the concrete, a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind and halted my descent. I was brought up slowly and then released. My freedom was only a temporary state. This same person turned me around to face them and wore a face of the utmost disgust and frustration.

'You're drunk,' William observed.

'I resent that accusation.'

'Why?'

'Because it's true.'

He sighed. 'I'm taking you back. Come on, I'll get us a cab.'

I pulled my arm out of his grip. 'No! I'm here with Freddie, so you can – you know – scoot.'

'Scoot?'

'Yeah. Get lost. Go on, rich boy. Why don't you ask Chantelle on a date? She could get a helicopter to drop her off here, right?'

'You're babbling.'

'I am not! You're just not listening right.'

William propped his hands on his hips. He looked up at the sky and mouthed some swears that I was in no fit state to make out. Without asking my permission, because he knew he wouldn't get it, he lifted me off my feet like a princess. It would have made my heart race if he wasn't such a prat. I wriggled pathetically while he carried me away and feebly called for help from people who didn't care or couldn't speak English.

I would have put more money on the former than the latter.

William only trusted me to stand on my own two feet when he was ushering me into the back seat of a cab. He gave the directions to the driver in fluent French and then helped me to buckle up. I stared resolutely out of the window for the duration of the journey, focusing all my anger on the innocent stars dotting the clear, cold sky. We were dropped off at the gates and were left to walk down the drive ourselves. It didn't sound so bad, but when one considered that Madame Courtenay had a sizable estate, it felt like miles.

'I'm tired,' I complained childishly. 'I don't want to walk. My feet hurt. My stomach feels gross. It's cold.'

'Shut up, and keep moving,' William snapped back.

'You're no fun. You suck.'

'Would you prefer that Freddie had taken you off somewhere for the night?' William asked tersely. His hands had balled into fists at his side and were quivering with unspoken rage.

'Yes, obviously! You ruined it, idiot!' I shouted at him.

'Me? I'm the idiot? Do you have any idea what he could have talked you into?!'

I giggled stupidly, 'Yeah.'

William made no reply, which disappointed me. Provoking him was fast turning into a hobby of mine, and it gave me the perfect excuse to argue with and hate him. He could hardly say that I was targeting him when he was an equal participant in our spats. I could hardly recall a time when he'd not been willing to uphold his side of an argument, and perhaps only two occasions in our shared history when he'd not been the worst example of a human being; when he'd helped Jenny in the rain, and when he'd asked me to dance at Charlie's party.

Bored with his silence, I provoked him by asking, 'I like Freddie, do you think he'll ask me out?'

'You should ask him that,' he shot back.

'Do you have his number? I'll call him. Maybe he'll be able to come by and pick me up. I mean, it's not like it's even that late.'

'No.'

'Liar.'

'I'm not giving you his number! Bennett, don't you get that you're in serious trouble with your mother right now?'

'Don't you get that I don't care?' I mimicked his voice. 'It's not like it matters. She'll forget by morning. Anyway, I wanted to spend more time with Freddie.'

'Yes, you said.'

'He's a good kisser.'

'What?' he asked, stopping dead in his tracks, and turning to face me.

I shrugged. 'We kissed a lot. It was good. He should have come to our school instead of you.'

'He's too old for you.'

'Why, because he's like a year older than us?' I asked. 'That didn't seem to bother him when he invited me back to his place.'

William balled his hands into fists. 'I'm going to kill him. I will literally kill him when he gets back.'

'He could totally knock you out. You're a wimp.'

The punch he'd thrown proved otherwise, but I wouldn't tell him that. I didn't want William to think I was complimenting him or anything. Had I been in a better position to do it, I'd have hit him back in retaliation. Madame Courtenay would have a fit if I laid a hand on her precious William Darcy. Good. It was about time someone ticked her off instead of pandering to her like she was the Queen of England.

'I'm a wimp? Me?'

'You repeat stuff a lot,' I said. 'You should get your hearing checked.'

I'd never seen him so agitated. It was like watching a tiger the way he paced back and forth. Every moment that he fretted was another moment we spent away from the house and from any punishment which might wait for me, so I didn't feel inclined to stop him. Although I teased about going out with Freddie again, I got the feeling that I'd be under house arrest until it came time for me to fly back to England. Still, that didn't mean that I wouldn't accidentally find myself alone with Freddie in the billiards room.

'And what is that you're wearing, anyway?' He asked, having finally noticed my outfit. 'You don't look like yourself. Did you dress up for his sake?'

'Technically he dressed me.'

'You mean he saw you –'

'No, William. Not that it's your business,' I added. 'You're not my father. You're not even my friend. Can I go inside now? You're getting annoying.'

'I'm annoying? Do you know how difficult it was for me to find you? All Freddie told me was that it was a place his father owned. I went to four clubs before I found you!' William announced.

'Why even bother?' I asked. 'You could have just told my mother that you couldn't find me and left me to it.'

'You think that I should have left you out there with my cousin? That I should have just let him –'

'Yes. What does it matter to you what I do?'

'I can't do this anymore,' he said, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 'I can't stay quiet.'

'You've never been quiet about anything. Ever. Since I met you, you've always been vocal about everything that you think is wrong with me.'

William stood straight and looked me dead in the eye. With all the grim sincerity and directness of a man confessing to murder, he announced, 'I love you.'