Dash’s voice remained even. “Did Lady Lavinia appear uneasy or alarmed? As if she feared she was being followed?”
“No. She behaved as any young lady might. Calm, polite, and perhaps…thoughtful.”
Thoughtful could mean anything. Thoughtful could mean she had already noticed a thread and begun to pull it. She prayed that was not why she had been lost in thought at all.
“Very well,” Dash said.
The man waited, as if expecting further orders. Dash dismissed him with a single nod. “Continue to watch her until midnight tonight. If anything changes, anything at all, send word at once.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The door closed again. Dash remained at the table, alone with the map and the sound of the sandglass emptying itself one grain at a time. It would have been easier, safer, to remain distant. He should continue to send shadows like that man to follow her and take note of any threats. He should wait for proof before intervening, but proof sometimes came too late, more often than not.
Beneath all of his careful logic, another truth pressed at him with quiet insistence. Dash had remembered her. He had never been formally introduced to her, but the girl who had fallen at his feet years ago… He could not help but recall her. Her cheeks had been aflame with embarrassment and her pride wounded. Those bright eyes had stolen his breath. She had a lot of determination even in mortification. All that innocence wrapped up in one lovely package. A lovely girl had turned into an even more beautiful woman.
He had not thought of her often. That would have been absurd, and yet he had never forgotten her. Which made her dangerous to him in a way no enemy blade ever could be. Because a blade he could meet. A bullet he could dodge. A weakness…was something else entirely. That was the reason he had rarely thought of her in all the years he was on the continent. Because it would have been a distraction he could not afford.
If the enemy had discovered it and if they had somehow learned that he carried one foolish memory like a private wound—they might use it against him. They might hurt her to hurt him… Dash turned the sandglass over with a sharp motion and watched the first grain fall.
“No,” he murmured to the empty room. “I cannot allow that to happen.”
He reached for his coat. Tomorrow night, he would attend the Cresswell Ball. Not as a man seeking pleasure, but as a man stepping into a trap before it could spring. If she was going to the ball, any ball, he would be there to ensure no one ever hurt her. Not while he still breathed.
The Cresswell ballroom blazed with light and laughter. Chandeliers scattered fire across gilded mirrors while music spun bright and buoyant. The air was perfumed with orange blossoms and the faint scent of vanilla. Vivy moved through it all with a smile that did not reach her heart.
The list in her reticule might was a heavy reminder she could not ignore. She felt its weight with every step, a reminder that she no longer stood safely within the ordinary world. She had stepped, willingly or not, into something shadowed.
And tonight, she intended to learn who among the shining crowd wore an unseen mask of a spy. Her gaze swept the room, landing on familiar faces and unfamiliar ones alike. A duke’s daughter saw more than most people assumed. She was trained to read the currents beneath conversation, to notice when laughter was too loud, and when a pause lasted a beat too long.
She paused when she found the man she had come to the ball hoping to find. Near the edge of the card tables, surrounded by women with flushed cheeks and pleased smiles her query stood. He was the Earl of Thornhill. He was handsome in the effortless way of men who knew their appeal. He had brown hair that fell artfully into place as if it had never met a comb. His eyes were a clear, bright blue that gave the impression of sincerity, even when sincerity was nowhere to be found. His smile was quick, charming, and just wicked enough to make matrons pretend they disapproved while nudging their daughters closer. In short, he was impish, intoxicating, and dangerous.
Vivy approached with steady grace, reminding herself that was the daughter of a duke and she would not falter before a charming earl. “Lord Thornhill,” she said, curtsying as required.
Thornhill turned as if he had been waiting for her. Though Lavinia suspected he always turned as if he had been waiting for a beautiful woman to approach him. He sept his gaze in an appreciative glance that might have unsettled a less willful woman.
“Lady Lavinia Ellsworth.” His voice was warm honey, easily poured and just as seductive. “What an unexpected delight.”
Vivy smiled politely, but she was unimpressed. “I wonder if anything is unexpected to you, my lord.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, as quick as a blink. Then his smile deepened, as though he liked the challenge. “Touché, my lady.”
He offered his hand to her. “May I fetch you lemonade? Or should I risk a scandal and offer something stronger?”
“I require neither,” Vivy said sweetly. “Only a conversation.”
“How dire.” Thornhill pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “And here I had hoped to ruin your reputation by making you laugh.”
“I am certain you ruin reputations with ease,” Lavinia returned. She did her best to keep her tone as light as the one he used with her. “It must be exhausting.”
This time, his laughter was genuine. He sounded both soft and delighted with her. He leaned closer and lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “It is much easier when the lady helps me.”
Vivy tilted her head and met his gaze with and replied calmly, “Then you are unfortunate tonight. Because you are not the man I wish to ruin my reputation.”
For a heartbeat, he only looked at her—really looked. His charm did not vanish, but he seemed to adjust to her statement with startling ease. As if he realized flirtation would not loosen her tongue, but perhaps something else would.
“How may I be of service then, Lady Lavinia?” he asked at last, still pleasant, but more careful. “Do you need assistance with telling a certain man you wish for him to ruin you?”
“Not at all,” she said as she tightened her fingers on her fan. “I am quite capable of handling my own downfall.” And wasn’t that the truth. “I thought perhaps you could help me on another matter.”
