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“Oh, that is not necessary,” Nell said, noting the way Miss Caldwell’s brow had puckered. “You are occupied, and a few words of direction from you will suffice.”

Lord Dalmeer shot her a look that said Curse you, unkind soul. “You will find a cord past the end of the next passage, just before you reach the entry hall. On your right.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She offered a smile to Miss Caldwell, who returned it, seeming to feel more in charity with Nell now that Lord Dalmeer would remain with her.

Nell took her journey to the bell cord and found it precisely where the earl had promised. She gave it a firm tug, then waited, listening to the sounds of voices echoing in the nearby entry hall, which was being decorated by Lord and Lady Weymouth.

It was a few minutes before a maid answered the summons. Nell gave her the empty basket, and the maid disappeared once again.

Enough time elapsed in her absence that Nell began to wonder if the maid had become distracted from her task, but after nearly ten minutes, she returned with an overabundance of tacks and a breathless apology for the delay.

Nell assured her it was no trouble at all, thanked her, and made her way back down the first section of the Antique Passage.

Lord Dalmeer and Miss Caldwell had finished their work at the archway in the first section and had moved to another. The ladder stood at the ready, but there was a moment’s discussion between the two of them.

Miss Caldwell smiled at the earl and put out her hand.

Lord Dalmeer took it, and she lifted her skirts to ascend the ladder. She wobbled slightly on the second rung, and Lord Dalmeer was obliged to stabilize her at the waist.

“Perhaps you had better hold me in place,” Miss Caldwell said with a laugh.

Nell suppressed a smile as the earl’s gaze met hers.

“Or I could take your place,” he suggested, his tone light, but his eyes gently accusatory as they held Nell’s.

“No, no,” Miss Caldwell said. “I am quite determined. If we are to win the competition, I will not be satisfied if I have not done my part.”

Amused by Lord Dalmeer’s pretended distress, Nell smiled at him and continued around the bend until he and Miss Caldwell were no longer in view.

She stopped short to avoid colliding with Mr. Fowell.

“I was just coming to find you,” he said. “I feared you had lost your way.”

Her heart began to settle from its surprise, and she smiled. “The servants are quite busy fetching things, so I was obliged to wait. But we have plenty of tacks now.” She held up the basket.

“Very good,” he said, returning the smile. “Perhaps you could help me with something.”

“Of course.”

He led the way past two more busts, then turned into the gap between two. “It is just here.” He turned his back to one of the busts to make space for her to join him.

Nell stepped in, her eyes searching for what he might be referring to. They had not yet decorated this area, however, so there was nothing to be tended to.

“What is it?” she asked.

Mr. Fowell did not respond. Looking at her with a slight smile, he stepped toward her.

Never had a step felt so full of import—or danger.

Nell matched it with her own step backward, but her heel met the plinth. Her heart raced, but she tried to persuade herself she was overreacting.

“Miss Prescott...” The low volume at which Mr. Fowell spoke and the look in his eye was enough to tell her she had not, in fact, been overreacting.

She took a quick step to the side and tried to keep her voice bright, though her heart thumped. “I should return to the ribbon. I am quite determined to win, you know.”

Mr. Fowell watched her, a curious light in his eye, as though he could not understand her.

“In fact,” Nell said, looking down the passage, “seeing just how much of the passage we have left to decorate, I rather think we will need more of that too. I shall call for it to be brought.” She did not wait for him to respond but instead made her way around the bend, exhaling in relief at the sight of the earl and Miss Caldwell.