Perhaps it was the elation from their success: they did so well the rest of the day that Maddie had sold all her ribbons by evening. The fair didn’t close until midnight, however. Normally Maddie would have stayed for the dancing and drinking that happened between midnight and dawn. But her secrets were hot and sweet on her tongue, and she didn’t dare risk letting them slip free in a moment of tipsy carelessness.
So Maddie said goodbye to her friends and walked home to enjoy the rarity of solitude.
She took her time, stopping for a late meal and wondering at the emptiness of the town, the thrum of the silk mill loud and hungry without bodies to absorb it. The night wind seemed to flick at her heels and skip her down the road the whole way home.We’ve done it,she chanted, a secret song of triumph. Mr. Giles had responded to their lures precisely as they’d hoped: he’d leaped on the opportunity they offered and had been eager to keep the law out of it.
At least for now. Maddie laughed silently. He’d probably change his mind about that later—but by then it would be too late.
As she turned her key in the lock, a sound behind her had her whirling around.
Chapter Eight
For a moment all Maddie saw was the dark street, its shadows deep and deeply familiar. Then movement—and a figure stepped out onto the sidewalk. Short, round, and judging by the way her eyes flashed, extremely angry.
Sophie Roseingrave. Cloaked in gray, her muffler wrapped to hide the lower half of a face that shone like the moon in the dimness.
Maddie’s heart was still racing from surprise, and it sped up still further as Miss Roseingrave moved close. “Won’t your family miss you, little sparrow?” Maddie breathed.
Miss Roseingrave tugged the muffler loose. “You were at Mr. Giles’s tent. You and your—associate.”
She made the word sound like a curse. As if that was the worst thing she could think to call someone. Maddie sputtered a laugh.
Miss Roseingrave bristled like an angry hedgehog. “If I had a shred of any proof of what you’re about, I’d be standing before the magistrates right now to denounce the pair of you.”
“But you don’t.” It was a guess, but Miss Roseingrave’s scowl deepened, so Maddie knew she’d guessed right. Nevertheless, the girl could cause trouble, if she made enough fuss that the people in authority took notice of Maddie’s activities.
She had to be distracted somehow.
Seduction leaped to mind. It had halfway worked before, and Maddie had certainly enjoyed it. But it had proved temporary—for here the girl was again, still angry, still in pursuit.
Because she was trying to do what was right. She’d come here to a strange neighborhood, all alone and friendless, to confront someone she believed to be a liar and a cheat—because she wanted to stop people being hurt the way she’d been hurt by Mr. Whoever in London.
The best way to stop her would be to show her Maddie was doing the same thing: defending people she cared about from someone who would do them harm. It was a risk—but everything was a risk, these days.
The trick was knowing which risks were worth taking.
Maddie flung the front door wide. “You might as well come in,” she said. “This is no conversation to have in the street where anyone could hear.”
She stepped into the hall, trusting Miss Roseingrave to follow. A lit candle spilled gold across the walls and floor just as the girl stepped into the doorway. She paused there, one hand on the door frame.
Maddie took pity. “It’s only us—everyone else will be at the fair until dawn.”Sothe only threat to your virtue is me.She bit her lip not to say it, in case it sounded more like a threat than a tease.
Miss Roseingrave pulled the door shut and hung her cloak and muffler beside Maddie’s on the hook. Maddie tried to ignore how fine the wool was, especially compared to the chunky blue handspun beside it.
Then Maddie saw what was beneath the cloak. Surprise washed through her. “You’re wearing my ribbon.”
“What?”
Miss Roseingrave looked down as Maddie stepped closer, the candle flickering with movement. Soft light flashed over cream-and-pink lovebirds that edged the neckline of her brown linen frock.
The same pink spilled into Miss Roseingrave’s cheeks. “You kept calling me a sparrow,” she muttered defensively. Her eyes widened. “Wait—you made this?”
Maddie put out one finger and traced the line of the ribbon. Down from the shoulder, across the collarbone. She let her fingers stop right above where Miss Roseingrave’s heart beat like wings in her chest. “All the best ribbons in Carrisford are my designs,” Maddie said, smug and sure. “I send them to the Weavers’ Library when the fashions change. Sometimes they come around again, though. This is one of mine from a few years back. Very popular—so much so that it’s been copied quite a few times.” She stroked with her fingertip, just an inch of a caress.
Miss Roseingrave made a faint, high sound like a violin string under strain. “Is there—is there any special story behind the design?” she asked.
“Story?” Maddie laughed. “Once upon a time there was a girl who needed the money.”
Miss Roseingrave sucked in a breath, then exploded. “Thatbastard,”she hissed. “That lying, poisonous piece ofshit!”
