“Aunty Army,” Cecilia said as if meeting the lady on a London street in the middle of the afternoon.
Lady Armitage moved into view, stepping loudly on a twig as she did.
“So that noise was you,” Ned said. “I thought it unlikely of Jacobsen. How are you even here? I gave you a sleeping potion.”
“I appreciate your candor, Signor,” Lady Armitage replied. “Strange quality for a pirate, but there you go. I, on the other hand, am not stupid enough to be honest. The potions in my cabinet are all mislabeled. You gave me something to cleanse my liver.”
Ned could only laugh. “Touché,” he said, bowing.
“But, Aunty,” Cecilia said, “you shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous.”
“I am a pirate terror, my dear.”
“Yes, but it’s also cold. You’ll catch pneumonia.”
“Nonsense. Pneumonia is only for young ladies whose aunts wish to repress them so that they never become independent and leave said aunts alone.”
Cecilia gasped. Behind her, Ned nodded in agreement, but whenCecilia turned to frown at him he shook his head instead, mouth hunched in firm disagreement.
“It’s not your fault,” Lady Armitage continued. “Jemima should have known better than to be so inhibiting. She saw what happened when her sister tried to keep Cilla on a tight leash. For that matter, she lived the consequences of her own wild youth. But it was obviously in your blood to break free and run off into the dark with a wicked boy.”
“I’m not a boy,” Ned interjected, but Cecilia spoke over him.
“Aunt Darlington had a wild youth?”
Both Lady Armitage and Ned looked at her with surprise.
“You don’t know?” Ned asked.
Cecilia frowned. “Know what?”
“Never mind,” Lady Armitage said firmly. “We should not stand here gossiping. If Morvath is out there, he will have heard you shooting that Jingelsen chap.”
“How did Jacobsen even get free?” Ned asked.
“No idea.”
“So he wasn’t released by someone and sent out here to kill us?”
Lady Armitage gasped. “Of course not! What do you take me for, Signor?” Her smirk made a response unnecessary. “We must hurry now; there is much to do. If the abbey is indeed yonder, we must return to my house and prepare for battle in the morning—and assassinating Cecilia in the afternoon, Signor de Luca, if you please, or else I’d like my deposit refunded.”
“Why don’t I kill her now and get it over with?” Ned asked dryly.
“In a woods? She is not a peasant; have some respect!”
“Fine. But we go forth quietly—does everyone understand? No stamping on twigs, no sudden leaping out from behind trees. If that is Northangerland Abbey, we do not want to get caught.”
“I agree,” Lady Armitage said promptly.
Ned turned to Cecilia for her reply, but she was gazing off throughthe darkness with a thoughtful look in her eye. “Cecilia?” he said nervously.
She blinked and looked back at him. “What? Oh. Yes, I agree. We most certainly do not want to get caught and taken into the abbey.”
Ned frowned at her. Lady Armitage frowned at her. She smiled brightly in return. “Are we going, then?”
“Just to look,” Ned clarified.
“Of course.” Her smile faded into a wounded expression. “Don’t you trust me?”
