“And I’m yet undecided, but you are a good dance partner. Certainly not as accomplished as me, but you have potential. I’m a natural, so I can’t fault you.”
I blinked. A little arrogant, wasn’t he? “I’m flattered.”
“As you should be,” he agreed.
I couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow, but quickly smoothed my face into a mask of serenity. So, the heir to the dukedom thought extremely highly of himself. What had I expected him to be like? I was used to thinking little of humans, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, yet after meeting Maxwell, it was disappointing nonetheless.
Ambrose drew in closer as the dance commanded, and our faces were only inches apart for a moment. His eyes flicked down to my lips, and I knew that I’d at least scored a modicum of interest. That was a good first step to securing my place here.
“Do you think you can truly help find Emmett?” Ambrose asked as he escorted me from the floor several minutes later. His hand lingered on the small of my back. It felt possessive, and I had to command every ounce of composure not to slap it away.
I nodded. “I know how to get what I want, and I’m sure I can convince some people in Hale’s Corner to talk. Plus, I have some experience in tracking.” I wasn’t going to tell him that it had been while tracking victims, but the same principle applied. “Are you terribly worried as well?”
Ambrose hesitated. “Truthfully, I wish mother would consider calling the constabulary. But she’s afraid of causing a scandal. I’m not sure you’ll be able to do much, but it’s better than nothing, I suppose.”
I’m glad that I’m better than nothing,I thought darkly as I kept a smile pasted across my face. “Perhaps I’ll surprise you.”
“Perhaps. I’ve secured your place in the competition for another round, Lucian. That should give you ample time to impress me. In the meantime, it’ll be nice to have another handsome face around here.” He reached out for my hand and bent low to offer it a kiss, holding my gaze all the while. Luckily, he’d sought my uninjured hand. His lips barely grazed my skin, cold and wet. I had to suppress a shudder. “It was quite enlightening.”
I watched him go. For all of his self-importance, Ambrose genuinely seemed interested in me. His eyes searching me had screamed as much, and I’d had plenty of time to read people over the years, especially when it came to human emotions such as lust. I could work with that. I didn’t have to like the heir to seduce him.
It was a good thing I was a good actor.
CHAPTER FIVE
Iwoke with a start, drenched in sweat, the lingering dread of a nightmare still hanging in the air, but already as ephemeral as fog.
I blinked up at the ceiling as I recalled where I was. Not in my coffin. I was in Hemlock Manor, in my bed. Moonlight streamed in through the curtains I’d failed to close when I’d stumbled into bed far too late, legs aching from dancing all night. I put a hand to my head. I was parched, but I didn’t wish to leave the comfort of my bed. It was so luxurious and soft, a far cry from the soil-filled coffin I’d called my bed previously.
Something scraped at the window and I frowned, sitting up slowly. I pushed my bed linens aside and climbed to my feet silently, before tiptoeing across the room to the window. I peeked out through the opening but saw no dark figures lurking nearby. No men in robes were here to finish the job.
A scratching noise beckoned to me, so I pushed the window open, leaning out to determine what was causing the disturbance. A cat reached up from the ground outside to bat at the window ledge. I smiled and extended the window out farther, providing ample space for it to climb inside. “Looking for somewhere warm to sleep, little lion?” I asked. It lifted sparkling green eyes to mine as I examined its beautiful black coat, shimmering in the moonlight. It let out a mewing noise, and I beckoned it closer with a wave of my hand. “Come in. I’m afraid I don’t have any food, but you can get comfortable at least.”
The cat hissed at me, and I shook a finger at it. “Ground rules,” I told it, “no hissing. You’re a guest, and I expect you to treat me with respect.”
It seemed satisfied with my conditions, for it leapt up onto the sill and pushed its way inside. It took a moment to examine its surroundings before it strolled through the room and began to sniff about. Carefully, I lowered the water basin to the floor and coaxed the cat over. It stopped to lap at the water for a minute before continuing its exploration.
“Make yourself at home,” I told it, bringing a handful of water up to my own lips. I stretched and rubbed at my eyes. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll leave the window open for you if you want to scamper off.”
I sank back into my bed with a moan of satisfaction and was fast asleep again within seconds.
The next morning, the cat was curled up beside me, likely enjoying my body heat. I pet it softly as it groggily awakened and stared up at me, as if trying to make sense of me. It began to purr and butt its head into my hand. I chuckled as I indulged the creature.
“Appearing to me in the middle of the night,” I said, shaking my head with a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were the devil himself, spying on me, perhaps gauging my progress.” I tapped my lower lip. “I think I’ll call you Beelzebub. How does that sound?”
Beelzebub continued to purr, rolling over so that I had access to its belly.
“I think Beezle for short. That seems to suit you. Little Beezle.” I tilted my head. “You know, I didn’t have any bad dreams after you arrived. Maybe you’re a little guardian spirit.”
Beezle looked up at me blankly and, deciding that it had enough attention, slunk to the edge of the bed and leapt to the ground, rushing out through the window all at once.
I hoped the little feline would return. Black cats tended to be misunderstood creatures. I felt a sort of kinship with it. Perhaps it would bring me back the bloody carcass of some small animal. That would be delightful.
Stuart arrived shortly after I’d freshened up and hesitated on the threshold, peering around my door. “Are you … alone, my lord?” he asked me.
“Alone?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be?”
Stuart didn’t answer, and I recalled that Maxwell had been in my room the last time he’d seen me.
