She shrugged. “We are both…lost. We found each other, and I won’t apologize or explain myself when it comes to that. I’m sure you think me a fool and will tell me how he’s only using me and isn’t capable of doing anything else.”
Rook shook his head. “I would never tell you that. I certainly don’t believe it. My cousin has not always made the best choices. But he isn’t a bad man at his core. I think him infinitely capable of love and even fidelity if he found someone who could melt the icy parts of him.” He let out a sigh. “If you want to be together, you’ll have to fight your family on him. They all have reasons to doubt he’s true.” His gaze flitted over her face. “But looking at you, his fierce protector, I believe you’ll win. Because we both know Ellis is far more than merely Handsome.”
She smiled at him. At that acceptance he offered not just to her, but to Ellis. He’d thought he’d lost Rook. She knew he mourned that. It seemed he hadn’t.
She blinked as the moment passed. “Oh, but Rook, none of this will matter, not if we don’t keep him alive. He’s solved the anagrams on the coded message, but he wouldn’t explain to me what they meant. And you saw his face when he moved out the window.”
Rook nodded. “I did. His calm was…frightening.”
“I think he’s going to do something…something dangerous,” she whispered.
“I agree. What were the words?”
“He only said a few that made any sense.Garden. Honoria. Fountain.”
Rook shrugged. “Gibberish as far as I’m concerned, but if Ellis understood, then it must be the answer. His mind always worked better on these types of puzzles than mine did. The person who might know the connection is Harcourt. Solomon Kincaid wrote the anagrams, after all. Harcourt is his brother.”
“Then let’s get him,” Juliana said, grabbing Rook’s hand and tugging him toward the door. “We can’t waste a moment. Not with Ellis’s life at stake.”
Rook followed her without argument, though she felt his stare on her back. But she didn’t care. What she cared about in this moment was Ellis and getting to him before his desire to save everyone else pushed him to do something reckless.
Ellis paced the private room at the Donville Masquerade, flexing his hands in and out of fists at his sides. Where the hell was she? He had no time for this. He wanted to get to Winston Leonard, do what he had to do and accept the consequences. He was ready to do that, and the more time he had to consider it, the harder the decision was.
He would never see Juliana again. At best, if he did, it would be at an inquiry where he was sentenced to death or transportation. He would certainly never touch her again, never hold her or kiss her. He’d never get a chance to whisper he loved her as she slept in his arms.
He stopped pacing and braced an arm on the mantelpiece as regret washed over him.
“Don’tyoulook sick.”
He pivoted to find Lady Lydia had entered the room as he pondered his lack of future. She was wearing a different mask from the one she’d had on the night before. Red silk and satin this time, trimmed with black leather. She sashayed forward and looked around.
“A private room, Mr. Maitland,” she all but purred. “One would think you’re trying to seduce me.”
He backed away from her. Once upon a time, she would have been the perfect mark for seduction. Jaded, experienced despite her unmarried status, moneyed. They would have had fun and he would have collected a few baubles she wouldn’t miss and perhaps some gifts she gave freely, as well.
But the very idea now, even in jest, of touching her was an anathema to him. “I chose a private room so we could have a private conversation. Nothing more.”
“Pity,” she sighed. “Then what is it you want to say privately?”
“I have the answer to the riddle. I know where the gem is.”
Her eyes went wide and all the teasing and malaise fled her face. “So soon?”
“I’m motivated,” he growled. “And so is your brother. I have written down a direction. You get it to him. I don’t care how you do it. He will meet me there at dawn.”
He held out the paper, and she took it and put it in the reticule that dangled from her wrist. “You think I can get him there in such a short time? It’s only a few hours.”
“I thinkyou’remotivated, too.” He moved toward the door. “And I don’t want him to have too much time to plan for traps. Get him there, my lady. I’ll take care of the rest. Good night.”
He left without waiting for a response and stalked down the hallway. He was going to simply leave. He had arrangements to make, after all. Final preparations for the night and for his life. But as he passed by the bar, he paused.
“Just one drink,” he muttered, and strolled toward the barkeep, who was chatting with a few patrons.
The man smiled at him. “What’ll ya have, mate?”
Ellis paused. What did a man choose for his last drink? “Your best whisky.”
“My best is awfully expensive.”
