* * *
Amanda dawdled at the case while others came to gawk at the problem. The young man eased away. She eased after him. She sidled close while he peered into a case with tiny ivory carvings.
He was a rather ordinary young man, with typically cropped hair and decent but undistinguished garments. Other than a somewhat prominent nose, she would be hard-pressed to describe him. He was not notable at all.
“Do not do it,” she said while she bent to admire the craftsmanship.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Do not do it. Not today. Not any day. Not here.”
“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”
“You know. I repeat, do not do it.” She straightened and faced him. He stared at her. She stared back.
Petulance twisted his mouth. He turned and walked out of the chamber.
Gabriel returned. Another man rushed in from another entrance. Slight and balding with red hair where hair still grew, he pushed his way through the thick circle of the gawkers. “Unbelievable. I could have sworn—” He used a lock and lifted the top of the case. “All of that worry and it was right here the whole time.”
“Let us make ourselves scarce,” Gabriel said, taking her arm. “I don’t want Stillwell noticing me, and deciding to do something stupid like wonder if someone just put that brooch back.” He escorted her outside. He found the carriage and handed her in, then climbed in himself. He faced her with an expression most strict.
“Amanda.”
“Yes, my love.”
“I must demand a promise from you that I should perhaps have demanded before.”
“What promise is that?”
“I want to hear you say that you will never do that again, not for the best reason in the world. Not even to save the realm. No locks, no in and out windows, no scaling walls, no expert penmanship.”
“I need the last for Lady Farnsworth while I help her as she finds a replacement for me. I would be a poor secretary if I wrote illegibly.”
“I am speaking of the special penmanship, and you know it.”
“I understand. However, not even to save the realm? Really?”
His severe expression broke. “I suppose, should it ever arise, which it never will, if the realm is truly in danger and your skills might help, then just that once you could.”
She moved to sit beside him. She pressed his side and looked at his profile. “I promise.”
He appeared satisfied, but another thought must have dawned because he turned his face to her. “Nor are you to teach our daughters any of that.”
“If you insist, I will not. None of our children will learn how to go out a window or work a lock, although I think such skills might prove practical on occasion.”
“I did not say the children. I said the girls. Some of that might be very useful to the males. If a husband is coming up the stairs, for example, and the window is the only escape. That sort of thing.”
“I see. That sort of thing.” She leaned in and placed her hand on his chest. “And if I disobey this command to cease using my special skills, what will happen? Will you have to punish me the way you threatened in Yarnell’s garden?”
His lids lowered. “I would never strike you in anger.”
“Somehow I do not think it would have been about anger, at least not for long.”
“You have shown surprising interest in that particular game, Amanda.”
“The notion is . . . provocative.”
“Is it now? That is, in turn, provocative.”
