Was Arabella playing Grannam right here and now? Perhaps she was accusing him of the murders she had been ordering. If she was, of course, Grannam would know her accusations were baseless, which might explain his unbothered disposition.
This conversation between Grannam and Arabella almost certainly had to do with the “move” Grannam was planning to make at the ball—or could thisbethe move? Were they forming some kind of alliance? Were they negotiating the details of a treaty and using the masquerade as neutral ground? So much of this political war happened behind closed doors. Being undercover as Elena, Jade had every opportunity to covertly get close to this conversation, but she was trapped in the arms of a mystifying, if not alluring, dance partner.
Could that be his plan? Had he already outed her as an espionage agent and was essentially holding her hostage so she couldn’t discover what was going on?
She had to find a way out of this—a way out of his grasp—but that was easier said than done. Every move she made had to be carefully calculated.
Nicolas changed direction, and the pair was lost from Jade’s sight. She pressed her lips together in frustration and swallowed, willing herself not to turn her head in their direction. She didn’t want to make it obvious whom she was studying, or that she was paying specific attention to anyone at all.
Instead, she brought her eyes back up to Nicolas, and the expression she found on his face surprised her.
He’d been watching her, that much was certain, his eyes gleaming with something akin to pride. Admiration, perhaps? One corner of his mouth twitched upward so briefly Jade barely noticed it before he wiped the expression from his face.
“Spot another royal?” he finally asked.
Jade allowed her lips to curve into a smile, studying him for a moment as she prepared her reply. The sparkle in his eyes and the knowing intonation to his question were almost mischievous, as though he’d known exactly what she had seen and waited to see how she would answer.
She ultimately chose the truth, playing again into her doe-eyed persona. “Lord Grannam.” She released a surprised chuckle. “I know this is his house, but I’m not sure I actually expected to see him here.”
“It is a rare appearance, indeed.” Nicolas released Jade’s waist in time with the dance, whirling her around before bringing her back to him, shaving centimeters off the space between them. His cheek nearly brushed hers as he brought his mouth to her ear. “I wonder what drew him out of hiding.”
Jade’s heart slammed against her ribcage with the closeness, the heat from his breath warming her ear. He lingered there for a split second after he had finished speaking, and Jade’s eyes followed his face as he pulled away. Nicolas held her gaze, the intensity of his brown eyes sending warm bloodpulsing into her limbs and up her neck. She swallowed, and her lips parted, trying but unable to form words as he spun her around the dance floor, her chin tipped up to maintain her lock on his eyes.
She tried to consider the implications of his statement—whywasGrannam making an appearance?—but she couldn’t get her thoughts in order, as if something had swirled them around and they hadn’t yet settled. She only saw Nicolas, only felt the pressure of his grip, only knew the steps of their dance.
Jade didn’t realize the music had ceased or that she had stopped moving. Only when Nicolas relinquished her from his grasp did the world come back to her, and the applause of the other dancers and the general hum of conversation met her ears.
Nicolas opened his mouth as if to speak right as someone cleared their throat behind Jade, and she threw her gaze over her shoulder.
“Would you allow me the next dance, my lady?”
A young nobleman, a royal—but Jade’s mind was still too muddled to determine whom—waited behind her with an outstretched hand. Before she answered, she brought her gaze forward again to excuse herself from Nicolas, but he was gone. She found no trace of him anywhere around her, though she resisted rising to her tiptoes to search. There was no sign of his dark hair, his black suit, his gold mask. No remnant of his towering figure could be found.
As quickly as he had appeared, he vanished, as though he had only been a phantom.
Eleven
Jade returned to the noblemanawaiting her hand, clearing her mind of thoughts of Nicolas. Whoever he was, whatever he had done to have such an effect on her, he was no longer important. She had to refocus on her mission.
And here stood a perfect opportunity directly before her.
Taking in the young man’s visage—pale green eyes in a pale, freckled face with a shock of fiery red hair—Jade determined he was Lord Harrison of Remcourt, the oldest son of Lord Harold, Earl of Remcourt, a cousin to the king and to Grannam. She’d already spotted Harrison’s brother and sister, Simon and Cecile, so she assumed the whole Remcourt family must be in attendance. It wasn’t much of an in with the royal family, but she would take it.
Jade accepted the man’s hand, and they took their places among the dancers. She peered around him as they waited for the music to begin, hopingto spot a dark head of hair or a pointed gold mask. She chided herself as she realized she was searching for Nicolas, not Arabella or Grannam, and again attempted to set her mind straight.
She dove into the dance with Harrison, immediately finding him both a less graceful dancer than Nicolas and not as good at carrying on a conversation. He pushed her around the dance floor somewhat gruffly, nearly causing Jade to trip over his feet more than once. With his introduction, Jade gawked and responded in feigned awe.
“You’re a member of the royal family, aren’t you?” She laughed through a small smile. “I’m dancing with a true royal.”
Harrison seemed pleased with her wonder, puffing out his chest as they danced. “Why yes, you are. I am glad to make your acquaintance, Miss...”
“Lady Elena Tavigne.”
Harrison’s eyebrows crinkled, and then one raised in an incredulous stare. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you. Have you been here before?”
A charmer Harrison of Remcourt was not.
They carried on in vapid conversation, with Harrison making at least two statements referencing his royal lineage, in case Jade—or rather, Elena—had forgotten. At the end of the dance, Jade bowed to Harrison, and he waited before her expectantly.
