“My lord Sewell,” she said brightly, “you gave us a fright!”

Vivi found her voice next. “Quite!” She rushed forward to the books strewn across the carpet and crouched to gather them. “I’m such a ninny. This was not the spot for a pile of books! Why, anyone could have knocked them over!”

Lucian’s voice was slow and suspicious. “Indeed. An odd place for a pile of books. Odder even for a pile of books built by girls who are trespassing.”

“Trespassing!” Ella laughed a touch too loudly, moving forward, A History of Essex clutched in her hand. “My lord, you are quite amusing. I assure you we would much rather be shopping for ribbon than picking up a selection of books for Alex’s father that Blackmoor should have delivered himself. In fact, that is just where we are headed next.” She took a stack of the books from Vivi’s arms, adding hers to the pile before setting them on her hip. She turned back to Alex, saying, “I think that’s all of them, don’t you? Shall we have Bingham send a footman to help us?”

Alex moved toward them, keenly aware of Sewell’s discerning eye and desperately attempting to appear nonchalant, “No. No. I don’t think that’s necessary. It will just take more time. We’ll miss the best part of the day as it is.”

Vivi nodded her head. “Quite.” Turning on her heel, she offered a low curtsy and a warm smile to Sewell, saying, “My lord, again, apologies if we startled you.”

He lifted a corner of his mouth in a false smile of his own. “It takes more than a few girls to scare me, Lady Vivian, Lady Eleanor.”

He nodded to both girls as they left the room, and Alex felt a chill race down her spine. Was there a double meaning in his words? She took a deep breath and dropped into a curtsy identical to Vivi’s, willing herself to get out of the room without betraying all she knew. “My lord Sewell.”

“Lady Alexandra. May I have a word?”

No! Her mind screamed, but what was she to do? She had to appear nonchalant, and the only way to do that would be to humor the despicable man. Ella and Vivi were only feet away—how much harm could happen? “Of course,” she replied with a look she hoped appeared to be curiosity.

He lowered his voice and spoke succinctly. “You care very much for my nephew, do you not?”

She nodded carefully and he continued, “Excellent. As do I. You seem an intelligent girl. You would do best to stop skulking about where you do not belong. You wouldn’t want Blackmoor to get hurt because of you, would you? Or those lovely friends of yours who seem never to leave your side?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” Alex said, her voice wavering.

“Then this conversation was unnecessary,” he said with an empty smile. “All the better.” He moved past her, into the study, speaking as he went, “Have a lovely time on Bond Street.”

She was terrified and furious and frustrated all at once. Terrified that he would follow them and somehow hurt them, furious that he would think to threaten those she held most dear, and frustrated because she felt so helpless and unheard. She turned to leave the room, her breath coming fast and hard.

“Oh, and one more thing, my lady?”

“Yes, my lord?” She willed the tremor from her voice, turning back to find him thumbing through a stack of correspondence.

“I so enjoyed myself at your parents’ ball last evening. Do let them know, will you?”

“Indeed, my lord.”

“And be sure to tell them that I was particularly enamored of the orangery.”

Alex fled the room with a singular focus—to get Ella and Vivi as far from Lucian Sewell as possible. And quickly.

twenty-one

Alex awoke with a start as the carriage turned off the main thoroughfare and onto the mile-long drive that led up to Stafford Manor. Night had fallen and they had been driving for the entire day. They had left Worthington House at dawn and were arriving well after dark. For the first part of the trip, Ella and Vivi had kept her company, chattering about the odd things they witnessed on the long drive to the eastern edge of Britain. After the first break, when they had stopped for tea and a change of horses, the two had curled up on the seat across from Alex and the duchess and had fallen asleep, leaving Alex, unable to sleep herself, to talk quietly with her mother, who had been busy preparing activities for the house party that would begin late tomorrow with the arrival of the first wave of guests.

Within a few hours, even the duchess had succumbed to the lure of laziness that comes with long hours of travel in a warm, darkened coach, and Alex had found herself alone with her thoughts—thoughts that haunted her as she ran the events of the past two days over and over in her mind.

Of course, at the front of her mind was the confrontation she’d had the day before with Lucian Sewell; she could not pretend she was not thoroughly shaken by his words. He had all but admitted that he was not above hurting his nephew or anyone else who stood in his way—even Ella and Vivi. Alex had not missed his threats. He meant to hurt them if she told anyone her suspicions. She wrapped the travel blanket more tightly around herself to stave off the chill of the memory. Was it possible that Gavin had recounted their conversation and her eavesdropping? She couldn’t imagine his doing such a thing, but she had to consider it an option.

She had risked Ella and Vivi’s lives by bringing them to Blackmoor House. Before, Gavin’s uncle hadn’t given the three of them a second thought. Now, they were squarely in his sights. That was no one’s fault but her own. Alex knew that she had only one task—to ensure her friends’ safety without revealing to them any more of her suspicions, should there be any more. The less they knew of Lucian Sewell’s part in whatever terrifying play this was, the better for them.