I grasped the polished brass knob, twisting it carefully, silently.
Then, I eased the door open.
She stood with her back to me, stiff, poised, as if sensing the disturbance in the air.
“This isn’t what you think,” she said.
My heart lurched at the sound of it.
Oh, Olivia.
How I missed you.
I lowered my voice, keeping it disguised. “Isn’t it?” I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. It’s quite obvious you’re somewhere you don’t belong. And there’s a penalty for spying.”
Tension rippled through her shoulders.
“Is there?” Her voice was steady, but I could see the subtle way her muscles tensed. “And what might that be?”
I let a smirk creep into my tone.
“Twenty lashes.”
Finally, she turned.
Our gazes locked.
Uncertainty crossed her face for a moment—a furrow formed between her brows.
She didn’t recognize me.
I fought the pang that cut through my chest.
Then again—why would she?
My hair was shorter, and my jaw was clean-shaven.
And the extravagant costume Count Montego had given me was designed to make me unrecognizable.
Deep-blue leather breeches clung to me like a second skin, molding to every movement. A close-fitting doublet, waisted and padded, covered my torso in the same rich blue. Ermine fur and gold embroidery adorned the fabric, marking me as someone of wealth and status—someone Olivia would never suspect.
The count had insisted on modifications.
“He’ll want to take it off soon after our arrival,” he’d chuckled to the seamstress.
I had shot him a look. “No, sew the sleeves on. I won’t be taking it off.”
Montego had laughed, amused by my restraint.
“At least leave the doublet open,” he’d said, fussing with the jacket’s fit. “Give the women something to admire. You’ll have every eye on you.”
I had relented—briefly.
But the moment I arrived at the masquerade, I had fastened the hooks, securing the doublet fully.
I wasn’t here to entertain anyone.
I was here for her.
