the end of it, but just as he laid his hand upon it, the door opened. The noise of the ballroom burst through it, and then he heard a little shriek and a giggle. He slid behind the door as it opened wider.
"Oh, nonsense!" came Caroline's voice. "You cannot have fallen in love with me. You don't even know what look like or who I am!"
"Your voice, the grace of your body, and your sweet lips are enough to make me your slave." The man's voice was low—and too damned oily for him to be up to any good, thought Parsifal.
"You cannot know if I am graceful, for you have no danced with me. And certainly you cannot know anything about my lips."
The couple came through, and the door closed. Caroline had her arm on the arm of a man who was dressed as a Harlequin.
"I can always find out," said the man, and drew Caroline close to him.
A sound like a sharp whistling wind slashed the silence of the hallway.
"I think not," Parsifal said.
Caroline gave a little scream and her face paled.
He ignored her and faced the man, keeping his sword the Harlequin's neck. "You were not, I hope, going to kiss her?"
"I, I—"
Parsifal moved the tip of his sword so that it rested on the man's collar.
"No, no, of course not!" the man said, backing away.
"Good. I think you should know that, as her brother, I would have ... objected ... very strongly if you had."
"No, really, I wasn't! I—Dancing! Yes, I was going to dance with her!"
"Ah." Parsifal let down the sword and smiled grimly as he watched the Harlequin's throat move in a hard swallow "I think, however, that it would be best done in the ballroom, not in a dim hallway with the door closed." He moved to the door, opened it, and waved at the man to go through. The man hesitated, but at Parsifal's fierce grin, sprinted through the doorway with remarkable agility.
Parsifal turned to his sister. "It was not the most discreet thing to have done, Caroline."
She made a moue of discontent. "Oh, heavens, Parsifal, it was not anything to be concerned about!"
"Really? 'Your voice, the grace of your body, and your sweet lips are enough to make me your slave.' Oh, and wasn't he going to find out something about them?" He smiled mockingly. "I doubt he was going to dance with you."
Caroline turned a bright red. "You know nothing!"
"I know one thing, Caroline: You are going home this instant." He grasped her arm, but she pulled away.
"No! It is not even time for the unmasking yet! Only a few more minutes!"
Parsifal took her arm more firmly. "I think not," he said. "Our dear mother had me accompany you for a good reason—so that you would not compromise your reputation, which you would have done had I not been here."
"You have been spying on me!"
"Had I been spying on you, you would not have left the ballroom with your—admirer." He pulled her toward the door.
"How hateful you are!" she spat.
Angry heat flashed through him. Parsifal grasped Caroline's shoulders and stared into her eyes.
"Silence!" he hissed.
His sister stared at him, openmouthed. A strange feeling, almost like elation, flowed into him.
"You will leave now. I will order the carriage. You will get in it and go home. If you do as I say, I will not tell our mother how you almost compromised your reputation."
"You odious—"
"And if you don't..." he said, his voice turning low and hard.
Caroline's eyes grew wide. She laughed nervously. "I do not know why you are making such a fuss." She shrugged and put on a careless air. "It is nothing to me if we leave early, I am sure. I daresay I would have been bored anyway—especially if you are going to be so stuffy about it all."
"I am glad to hear it," Parsifal replied coolly, and pushed her out the door before him.
As he called for the carriage, he shook his head. He was surprised how easily Caroline had gone along with his insistence that she go home. He'd been prepared for arguments and hysterics, or at least loud protests, but while she grumbled as she stepped up into the
"Oh, nonsense!" came Caroline's voice. "You cannot have fallen in love with me. You don't even know what look like or who I am!"
"Your voice, the grace of your body, and your sweet lips are enough to make me your slave." The man's voice was low—and too damned oily for him to be up to any good, thought Parsifal.
"You cannot know if I am graceful, for you have no danced with me. And certainly you cannot know anything about my lips."
The couple came through, and the door closed. Caroline had her arm on the arm of a man who was dressed as a Harlequin.
"I can always find out," said the man, and drew Caroline close to him.
A sound like a sharp whistling wind slashed the silence of the hallway.
"I think not," Parsifal said.
Caroline gave a little scream and her face paled.
He ignored her and faced the man, keeping his sword the Harlequin's neck. "You were not, I hope, going to kiss her?"
"I, I—"
Parsifal moved the tip of his sword so that it rested on the man's collar.
"No, no, of course not!" the man said, backing away.
"Good. I think you should know that, as her brother, I would have ... objected ... very strongly if you had."
"No, really, I wasn't! I—Dancing! Yes, I was going to dance with her!"
"Ah." Parsifal let down the sword and smiled grimly as he watched the Harlequin's throat move in a hard swallow "I think, however, that it would be best done in the ballroom, not in a dim hallway with the door closed." He moved to the door, opened it, and waved at the man to go through. The man hesitated, but at Parsifal's fierce grin, sprinted through the doorway with remarkable agility.
Parsifal turned to his sister. "It was not the most discreet thing to have done, Caroline."
She made a moue of discontent. "Oh, heavens, Parsifal, it was not anything to be concerned about!"
"Really? 'Your voice, the grace of your body, and your sweet lips are enough to make me your slave.' Oh, and wasn't he going to find out something about them?" He smiled mockingly. "I doubt he was going to dance with you."
Caroline turned a bright red. "You know nothing!"
"I know one thing, Caroline: You are going home this instant." He grasped her arm, but she pulled away.
"No! It is not even time for the unmasking yet! Only a few more minutes!"
Parsifal took her arm more firmly. "I think not," he said. "Our dear mother had me accompany you for a good reason—so that you would not compromise your reputation, which you would have done had I not been here."
"You have been spying on me!"
"Had I been spying on you, you would not have left the ballroom with your—admirer." He pulled her toward the door.
"How hateful you are!" she spat.
Angry heat flashed through him. Parsifal grasped Caroline's shoulders and stared into her eyes.
"Silence!" he hissed.
His sister stared at him, openmouthed. A strange feeling, almost like elation, flowed into him.
"You will leave now. I will order the carriage. You will get in it and go home. If you do as I say, I will not tell our mother how you almost compromised your reputation."
"You odious—"
"And if you don't..." he said, his voice turning low and hard.
Caroline's eyes grew wide. She laughed nervously. "I do not know why you are making such a fuss." She shrugged and put on a careless air. "It is nothing to me if we leave early, I am sure. I daresay I would have been bored anyway—especially if you are going to be so stuffy about it all."
"I am glad to hear it," Parsifal replied coolly, and pushed her out the door before him.
As he called for the carriage, he shook his head. He was surprised how easily Caroline had gone along with his insistence that she go home. He'd been prepared for arguments and hysterics, or at least loud protests, but while she grumbled as she stepped up into the
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