The way she said his title—careful and deliberate—made his stomach tighten. She had to know what he had done on the continent. These were no ordinary questions. He doubted she would tell him the truth outright. She didn’t trust him. If she did, she would already have spilled some of her secrets. He would have to do something to change that.
So, he gave her another half-truth. “I was shaped by duty.”
“Duty,” she echoed, as if she heard the half-truth in his statement. Then, as if she decided she had learned all she could from those questions, she asked him something else, “How close are you to Lionston?”
Dash tilted his head to the side and asked, “Why?”
Lavinia’s expression softened a fraction. “Because his new wife is a dear friend of mine.”
Dash kept his face composed, but his mind moved swiftly. He may have already known that... The duke had married Lady Sabrina Fairfax and surprised everyone at the Lion Watch. But he loved her and had loved her for years. He had just never told anyone about her. Which Dash understood completely. If Lavinia was friends with her, they could cross paths more often, and he was not certain how he felt about that.
“Lionston and I have known each other a long time,” Dash said carefully.
“Is he the sort of man who keeps secrets?” Lavinia asked, her voice too gentle for the ballroom.
Dash almost smiled, despite himself. “Every man keeps secrets, Lady Lavinia. Lionston is simply better at carrying them.”
Her gaze held his. “Are you good at carrying them?”
He felt the question strike deeper than the first. The waltz carried them onward, as if the music itself wished to pretend nothing had changed. Dash kept his voice low. “Yes, I am especially good with secrets.”
For a heartbeat, her expression shifted and something tender flickered there and then it was quickly banked. The music began to wane toward its close and the dance ended. Dash did not release her instantly. He bowed and then offered his arm. “I will return you to your mother.”
“I can manage the length of a ballroom without your escort,” she muttered.
“And yet you will accept it,” he murmured back, just as softly.
She shot him a look that was half fury and half reluctant amusement, but she took his arm. They moved off the floor. Dash guided Lavinia to the Duchess of Avonridge, who stood with the serene stillness of a woman who missed nothing, her gaze took in her daughter and Dash’s proximity.
The duchess sighed and then her brought her fingers to her temple. “Oh,” she said softly. “How tiresome.”
“Mama?” Lavinia stiffened. “Are you unwell?”
“I fear I have a headache,” the duchess declared, very smoothly. “A dreadful one. We must go.”
Lavinia opened her mouth, clearly ready to protest. Dash spoke first, because he recognized the duchess’s tone for what it was. She wanted to take her daughter home and keep her away from him. For whatever reason she did not trust Lavinia with him. Not that he blamed her. If he had a daughter and a man like him showed her interest, he would do anything to keep them apart. He was a hard man and that would be not make for an easy life for a lady such as Lavinia.
“Allow me to see you to your carriage,” Dash said, as he bowed.
The duchess studied him a heartbeat, then inclined her head. “Thank you, Lord Ravenwood.”
Lavinia glared, but she kept silent. Dash escorted them through the crush with quiet efficiency. Once outside, the night air was cool and damp, London’s lamps casting blurred halos in the mist. He helped the duchess into the carriage and then offered his hand to Lavinia. She touched her fingers with his briefly, and the contact sent an unwelcome awareness through him.
She met his gaze for a heartbeat as she stepped up. “We will talk again,” she murmured, so low only he could hear.
“Yes,” Dash agreed. “Soon.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I will hold you to that.”
“You have my word,” he said, and he meant it. “I promise.”
A promise was a dangerous thing. He had avoided them for years. But the enemy was closing in, and Lavinia was already inside the circle. The carriage door shut and the horses shifted as they trotted away. Dash signaled his own driver and followed at a measured distance. Not so close as to raise suspicion and not so far as to be useless if someone tried something bold in the wet darkness.
London’s streets slid past in lamplight and rain. Dash did not breathe again until the Avonridge carriage rolled through the gates and stopped beneath the warm spill of the house lamps. He remained in the street, watching until he saw the duchess and Lavinia safely ushered inside.
Only then did he allow himself a slow exhale. He should return to the Lion Watch. Perhaps that missive had finally been decoded and they would be able to make a move to end this. He had to protect her. Dash did not want to imagine a world without her in it. So, he would keep her safe if it was the last thing he did.
Five
