“No idea.”
“Maybe we should just leave.”
“We’re notleaving. We walked all the way here.” Indeed, the excursion had taken the better part of a half hour. She sidestepped Jules, ignoring his protests, and walked directly up to Kane. After all, they hadn’t done anything illegal yet, had they?
Zaria raised a hand to tap Kane on the shoulder, but he turned inthe heartbeat before she could make contact. It was as if he’d somehow sensed her presence. He flashed a devilish grin and, to Zaria’s bewilderment, pulled her tightly against his side.
“Here she is,” Kane said smoothly. “The lovely woman we were just speaking of. Mister Taylor, Officer Sullivan: my fiancée, Eleanor.”
Zaria was too stunned to speak. She blinked at Kane in fury, but he was focused on Taylor, the firm hand encircling her waist his only acknowledgment of her shock.
“Ah, yes. Honored to meet you.” Taylor took Zaria’s hand, and she would have recoiled had the officer’s stare not communicated such a blatant warning. Whowerethese people?
She glanced over her shoulder, catching a brief glimpse of Jules’s horrified expression before Kane’s voice dragged her back again.
“My apologies, sir. You see, she’s a bit—”
“Overwhelmed,” Zaria interjected, smiling beatifically. “I’m just so thrilled we’re finally meeting. I’ve heardsomuch about you from my husband-to-be.”
If nothing else, it was worth it to see the look on Kane’s face as he processed her response, then worked to regain his composure. If he was going to catch her off guard, she was going to return the favor.
Taylor boomed a laugh. “Oh, Theodore’s too kind, the charming bastard!” He tipped his hat in Kane’s direction, then gestured at the Crystal Palace. “My congratulations again on the excellent work you’ve all put into this feat of architecture. I’ll send for you the moment I hear anything, will I?”
“Please do,” Kane said warmly. His grin was all teeth.
Taylor, though, either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. He tipped his hat once more before strolling away through the lush grass.
The moment his back was turned, Zaria pulled away from Kane,fixing him with a look she could only hope aptly communicated her fury. “What thehellwas that?”
“That,” Kane said as Jules approached them, “was Ambrose Taylor. Politician, collector of artifacts, and member of the Royal Commission for the Exhibition. He’s kindly offered to do me a favor. Why did you bringhim, by the way?”
This was clearly in reference to Jules, who grimaced. Zaria, however, didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t help her gaze darting apprehensively to the enormous blond officer.
Kane heaved an impatient breath. “Relax, would you? He’s not a real copper.”
Of course he wasn’t. She ought to have known.
The man—boy?—in question extended a hand to Zaria. “Fletcher Collins. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Miss Mendoza.” His voice was low, a little rough.
Zaria stared at his outstretched hand. “Do you work for Ward, too?”
“I do. Unlike Kane, though, I doubt my reputation precedes me.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“Oh, I prefer it that way.” Fletcher’s grin was lopsided, seemingly genuine. He withdrew his hand and nodded at Jules, apparently realizing there would be no regard for niceties. “And you are?”
“That’s irrelevant,” Jules muttered at the same time Kane said, “Julian Zhao, son of George Zhao, the pawnbroker down on Horseferry.”
Jules gaped. “I never told you that.”
“I do my research.” Kane’s lips tilted up in a smug grin.
Zaria believed him. Beneath that careless facade, she had the impression Kane was deathly clever and calculating. She wonderedif his smile was intended to distract his marks from the moment he finally stabbed them in the back.
“If you don’tmind,” Zaria said, steering the conversation back around, “I’d be interested in knowing why I was pretending to be your wife.”
“Fiancée,” Kane corrected her mildly, as if it made a lick of difference. “Conveniently, Mister Taylor believes I’m none other than Theodore Wright, apprentice to Charles Fox.”
