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“I would have thought that would make everything easier,” she said. “No awkward explanation, no risk of discovery. You and your family members could return to your normal lives without any further worry over the complications my presence at Langton Manor had produced.”

“If you truly believe that, Miss Doyle, we have done a very poor job of showing you that we care.”

Elizabeth met his eyes for the first time since he’d taken his seat. “To be quite frank, my lord, I do not know what to believe anymore,” she said.

“Believe that the Duchess of Kelbrook was so impressed by your character, she suggested that you become Lady Langton’s companion, and believe that Lady Langton has become so fond of you, she was quite beside herself when she discovered you were missing. Believe that Viscount Langton will do everything in his power to prevent Cyrus Doyle, Mr. Cummings, or any other blackhearted man from ever hurting you again and that he desperately hopes you will find it in your heart to forgive him for his deception.” His voice softened. “Believe that the same viscount wishes that when his disclosure is complete, you will feel as comfortable in his presence as you were in Reynard’s.”

Elizabeth managed a sad smile. It was a nice sentiment, but he had to realize that social protocols would prevent anything of the kind. “After tonight, I very much doubt that we will see each other often, if ever.” She paused. “That is, if you really have found me a position in London. Is that true?”

“Yes. My friend, the Earl of Bloxley, has an opening for a housemaid at his London residence.” He hesitated. “But I believe Lady Langton is hoping that you would be willing to stay on as her personal companion.”

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat. She recognized the honor it would be to serve as Lady Langton’s companion even as she acknowledged its impossibility. Not only was she grossly underqualified for the position, but if she were living at Langton Manor, she would never be free of the fear that her father would come after her again. And then, every time she encountered the viscount, there would be the constant and painful reminder of her lost friendship with Reynard. “It is very good of Lady Langton to consider me for the position, but I have no doubt there are others who are better suited for the role. I am far more qualified for a job as a housemaid.”

“My mother will be disappointed,” he said.

For a fleeting moment, Elizabeth wondered if she would have chosen differently had Reynard not been a phantom she could never reclaim. “I would never wish to offend her,” she said. “But Langton Manor’s proximity to Little Tilbury will always be an issue.” After the events of this evening, he could not fault her for being concerned on that point.

“Not always, I hope.”

Elizabeth caught something in Viscount Langton’s voice. “Is there something more that you have not yet told me?”

“I believe I am close to identifying the Midnight Master,” he said. “And when his treachery is exposed, I fully anticipate that he and his associates will be made to answer for their crimes and that his smuggling network will crumble.”

Elizabeth wadded Viscount Langton’s handkerchief in her fist. “My father will be one of those arrested,” she said.

“Amongst others.” He looked away, gazing out at the vague outline of the rosebushes. “I do not claim to have proof that he and his cronies are guilty of all the wrongdoings that have occurred in Little Tilbury over the years, but I have learned that my father’s death was likely not an accident and that he was killed trying to prevent wreckers from doing their work. Mr. Cummings’s father, who was the magistrate at the time, was as crooked and as deeply involved in smuggling as his son is now. As such, it was certainly not in his best interest to register the Viscount Langton’s death as a murder.”

Sorrow—deep and intense—swept through Elizabeth. And with it came shame. Shame that she was in any way connected to such evil and conspiring men. “I am truly sorry, my lord. Would that there was something I could do to help make things right.”

“You are kind to say so, but I—” He paused, suddenly tensing. “There may actually be something you could do, Miss Doyle.”

Confused, Elizabeth searched his indistinct features for clarity. “What is that?”

“The Earl of Bloxley and I hope to root out the Midnight Master at the Duchess of Kelbrook’s garden party on Saturday. We have narrowed our suspects to two noblemen, but at this point, we are working on little more than calculated guesses. You have seen the man himself. Although well concealed by his cloak, it is possible that he did something or said something in your presence that you might recognize again. Would you be willing to accompany my mother to the garden party and watch for anything—a mannerism, favored expression, tone of voice, gait—that might help us identify him?”

“Might he not also recognize me and be set on his guard?”

Viscount Langton appeared thoughtful. “It is probable that he never paid you much attention at the inn. With a change of costume, powdered hair, and a hat, I believe you will remain safely incognito.” There was a hint of chagrin in his voice. “I have it on good authority that our wardrobe greatly influences how we are perceived by others.”

“What of the position in London? If I were to delay my arrival there until after the garden party, would it be available still?” It felt horribly selfish to ask such a thing, but once this adventure was over, she would need to fend for herself.

“The Earl of Bloxley will make sure of it,” he said. “If you are still of a mind to take the position after the garden party, I shall take you there myself. Finley Park is not so far from the city as we are here.”

“Then I will do it,” Elizabeth said. The viscount’s handkerchief would never fully recover from the wringing it was receiving this evening. “I cannot say that I am as hopeful as you that I will be able to assist you in your hunt, but I am willing to try.”

“Thank you, Miss Doyle. I am in your debt.”

She shook her head. Had he already forgotten that he had just rescued her from the worst possible fate? “I do not think that will ever be the case, my lord.”

They sat in silence for a moment, each consumed by their own thoughts. The heady fragrance of roses filled the night air, and Elizabeth wondered if she would ever smell them again without remembering this tumultuous evening.

Beside her, the viscount shifted. “It is late. Perhaps we should return to the house,” he said.

“Yes.” Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Perhaps we should.”

Chapter 19

Jonas stood in the hall with his hands clasped behind his back, fighting the urge to pace. It was at least thirty minutes past the time his mother had appointed that he meet her and Miss Doyle for their outing to feed the birds, and there was still no sign of either woman. He’d not seen Miss Doyle since he’d left her in his mother’s and Mrs. Beecham’s care late last night, but he had thought on her almost constantly since then. Throughout the night, images of their escape from the inn and echoes of their discussion in the rose garden had flitted in and out of his dreams. It had been a relief to finally see daylight peek through the curtains of his bedchamber and know that the night was behind him.