“Oh, no, no,” I said, chuckling. “Maxwell didn’t stay the night. You don’t have to worry, Stuart. I only parade around naked for you.”
Stuart blinked in annoyance. “My lord is too kind.”
I slid off my nightshirt slowly, in a provocative manner, but Stuart ignored me, avoiding looking at me altogether as he picked out a green suit for me to wear. No fun whatsoever.
Once I was dressed, he smoothed out any lingering wrinkles. “It must have been quite the ball. Everyone went to bed rather late.”
“It was wonderful,” I agreed.
“And your hand, my lord?”
I looked down at my hand, flexing it to examine the knuckles. They appeared a little bruised, but they no longer throbbed. “I think I’ll live.” I winked at him. “Worried about me, Stuart?”
Stuart pressed his lips into a thin line. “More worried about Lord Maxwell, if I’m being honest.”
“Ouch, Stuart. Just shoot me in the heart next time. I thought you only had eyes for me.”
“You thought wrong. You’re utterly incorrigible.”
“Yes, I am. But flattery will get you nowhere.” I paused, pretending to think. “Or will it?”
Stuart stepped back and squinted at me. “I only beg that you don’t lead Lord Maxwell to any trouble. He’s a good man.”
“That concerned, are you? You must think me quite the scoundrel.” I shrugged. “And, fair.”
“What were you doing together last night in such a state?”
I raised an eyebrow at how forward he was being. “Oh, no, Stuart. That’s not how this works. You answer my questions, not the other way around.” I considered him for a moment. Servants did see things that others might not. It wouldn’t hurt to put a question to the man. I walked around him in a circle, hoping to intimidate him. “Now, where is Emmett?”
Stuart’s brow furrowed. “Emmett, my lord? I haven’t the foggiest. He’ll turn up though. He always does, in the end.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
I shrugged. Either he was a good actor, or he was telling the truth. If I had my powers of hypnotism, I could be certain. In fact, this whole mystery would be cleared up within the day. But alas, I was only a puny human for the moment. “I’m naturally curious.” I sniffed, gesturing to the door. “Now, I’ll give you the honor of escorting me to breakfast.”
Stuart actually had the audacity to roll his eyes as we left, and I couldn’t help but admire his spirit as I followed him to the dining room.
“Count Lucian Cross,” Stuart announced me as we crossed the threshold into the room, although I didn’t miss the muttered “the imperious” under his breath. I snorted before following my nose to the feast and those assembled at the table. Unlike previously, many chairs were filled with guests today, close to thirty-five in all. Fewer than I imagined would have made it past the first round of eliminations. Without masks, they seemed like fresh faces, but I’d probably interacted with many of them last night.
Eyes followed me as I made my way up the table. I felt them assessing me, gauging how I would factor into the competition. I lifted my chin and forced myself to stroll easily. I could leave them with no doubt that I belonged here.
“Oh, what a fabulous ensemble, darling,” Zachariah greeted me from the far end of the table. “You must have exquisite taste.”
I flashed him a grin and strolled over to him, twirling in place for him, to his delight. A few others in attendance chuckled as well. “Yes, Zachariah, you have done wonders in making me the height of fashion.”
“Green really is your color, dear,” Flora noted, watching me over her teacup. “It’s these jewel tones. They go well with your dark hair and eyes.”
“Thank you, my lady,” I returned as I took a seat between Maxwell and Ambrose, the chair conspicuously left open for my arrival. I sent Maxwell a grateful look and he nodded.
I noticed that Ambrose was every bit as handsome without a mask, but that was as I’d expected. I looked down the table as it buzzed with conversation, many of my fellow guests already acquainted with each other. I felt a separation from them, as the stranger. But surely there were others from outside the neighborhood. Although having whittled the numbers down so significantly left little room for unknown elements.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked as I grabbed a biscuit and began to butter it, my mouth already watering with anticipation.
Maxwell straightened, voice low as his eyes strayed briefly to his mother, who was in conversation with Helena at the head of the table. “I thought we could give you a tour of Emmett’s room and where he spends his time.”
“That sounds like a good start,” I agreed, watching the girl on his other side speak excitedly to the boy beside her. We need not worry about being overheard by them.
“I can lend you the key to his studio,” Ambrose offered. “I already gave it a thorough once-over, but it may prove useful to you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He has a studio? Is it on the grounds?”
