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“He’s offering me an opening,” Nathaniel said quietly, watching Alden’s retreat. “Whatever business he thinks I might be useful for, it’s the closest I’ve come to Cumberlea’s circle since I began my investigation.”

“Be careful, Nate,” Everett cautioned. “A man like Alden doesn’t extend an invitation like this without wanting something in return. I do not want you to get in over your head.”

“I know precisely what he wants.” Nathaniel’s jaw set. “And I intend to give him just enough of it to find out what he knows.”

CHAPTER 16

“Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Duskwell!” the man of ceremonies announced as Laura and Nathaniel entered the glittering ballroom of Lord and Lady Winchester.

Laura had attended balls before, dozens of them, but she had never attended one on the arm of a man whom the entire room turned to watch the moment he crossed the threshold.

Every eye was locked on them. Fans were held up in front of ladies’ mouths as they whispered. Men just nodded.

Nathaniel wore his discomfort the way he wore his coat—close and correct, and entirely unwilling to admit it didn’t fit quite right. His jaw was tight, and his eyes swept over the crowded ballroom as if counting exits. His hand had not left the small of her back since they’d stepped through the door, warm and firm and entirely too distracting for her to give the room its due attention.

“You needn’t look as though you’re walking into an ambush,” she murmured as they made their way through the receiving line.

“I generally am at these things.” His hand slid to her waist, and she felt the touch travel up her spine like a struck match.

“Then tell me again why we came?”

“Appearances must be kept,” he muttered. “I am a duke, you know.”

“And I am a duchess. So, what is it that you do not like about it?” she asked as they waited for their turn to greet their hosts.

“I dislike crowds. I dislike small talk. I dislike being looked at as though I am a beast in a suit.”

“You’re doing wonderfully so far.”

“I have you to thank for that,” he said, low enough that only she could hear it, and the warmth in his voice did something entirely unfair to her composure. “You look radiant in that shade of pink.”

Laura wore a new pink gown, cut perfectly to frame her body and cinched at the waist with lace and pearls. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant chignon, and her cheeks were rouged and bright.

“You match the flowers,” he remarked.

“Which I cannot stop thanking you for.”

“You thanked me enough at breakfast and then in the hall.”

“I suppose.”

“They’re talking about us,” he said, looking around the room again.

“I suppose they are doing that too.”

The whispers followed them, as they always did. Laura caught snippets of them despite the din.

“The Beast of Duskwell!”

“Did you hear that he nearly drowned trying to save her?”

“They say he keeps his sister’s memory locked in a tower!”

At that, Laura felt Nathaniel’s hand stiffen against her waist, then again at each new whisper, though his face gave nothing away.

“They do love their stories,” he said flatly. “Some of them should take up novel writing for all they conjure up.”

“They’re fools,” Laura scoffed.