John threw his head back and laughed. “That would help sell papers. Readers love the supernatural, and it turns out, they especially love our local witch.” An oily grin spread across his lips, revealing a set of crooked teeth. “Readers want to know how you put the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor, second only to the prince, under your spell, and whether they can buy a bottle of it at your shop?”
My insides withered at the jeering note in his voice. This was what I’d agreed to, but it hurt to be cast as the seducer in our situation—especially one that seemed like a bottom feeder, grasping for someone above her station. Derrick had gone rigid beside me, and I sensed he was about to blow the whole act out of the water, regardless of the prince’s desire to keep up the charade. Probably out of some misplaced protectiveness.
I slipped into the crook of his arm and flashed John a sly smile. “It’s called Charmed Lightning, available in cherry flavor.” I winked. “Until supplies last.”
Another laugh, this one booming over the surrounding conversation. “I like you, Miss Daniels. Finally, a woman who can keep Detective Chambers on his toes. He’s always so grim. If you ever get tired of the lad, I’ll happily drink your potion.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever need to advertise in your paper.”
“You do that.” He chuckled and wiped the corners of his eyes. “You’re a lucky man, Detective. She has beauty and wit.”
“She does. I know how lucky I am.” Derrick pulled me tighter against his side. His voice was warm and laced with meaning, a husky sound that made my face flush and a tiny flutter start in my stomach. He was good at this game. Even I was convinced.
John changed topics, holding Derrick hostage with a question about agency policy. I tuned out of the conversation, suddenly longing for a breath of fresh air, anything to douse the rioting emotions inside my chest. Glancing around the room, I caught sight of Argus again. He was speaking in a circle of guests, an elegantly dressed young woman clutching his arm. The resemblance was striking. He really hadn’t been lying about escorting his half-sister.
Argus must have felt my gaze because he returned it, lifting a brow. I definitely needed air.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’m parched.” I hurried away before Derrick could protest, using the crowd for cover. Relief washed over me as I neared the edge of the room. From this angle, I didn’t have to look at Argus or feign interest in agency politics with Derrick’s arm snug around my waist. The first problem was detestable. The other was becoming almost essential.
Massaging the bridge of my nose, I scoured the ballroom for the missing prince. Where was he? There wouldn’t be many opportunities to watch his behavior—in fact, this would probably be the only chance I’d get. I couldn’t let Liam’s tip go to waste since he’d risked his job and possibly his life to bring it to me. With one last glance to check nobody was watching, I inched behind a marble statue to observe the room unseen.
Helen and her mother held court near the winding staircase. Olivia Lockwood appeared drawn and exhausted, but Helen seemed to thrive under the attention. I watched her sip from her wineglass, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief every so often while regaling her audience with some tale. It looked forced, as if maybe Derrick and I weren’t the only ones putting on an act.
“What a tragedy. I can hardly believe it,” a woman stage-whispered on the other side of the statue. Her companion made a noise of agreement, and I peered around a marble elbow at the two ladies, hoping to catch snippets of their gossip. Maybe something would turn out to be useful.
“Honestly, he’s too good for her. A witch of all things, not even a talented one. I heard she once set a barn on fire with one of her spells. Thankfully, her mother arrived to cast a rain spell, or the whole structure would have been lost. She, rest her soul, was the last of the good ones.”
“Have you seen Mrs. Anderson’s hair? The underside is still green from using one of the witch’s potions. Poor thing can’t leave her house for another week.”
“I don’t know what Detective Chambers sees in her. It’s only a matter of time before he comes to his senses and finds someone more suitable.”
I shrank behind the statue, horrified the gossip wasn’t about the murder but about me. Shame stabbed my chest while the two ladies continued their banter, listing my faults and failed spells, before wandering away from the statue. Tears stung my eyes. I pressed my thumbs at the source.
“You look like you need this.” Abrams approached with a glass of wine.
I accepted the offering but didn’t drink it. “Let me guess, Derrick asked you to keep an eye on me tonight?”
“Guilty. He gave me the signal when you slipped away and left him at the mercy of John Lincoln.” He tsk’d and sipped from his glass, tossing it back until nothing remained. “Not that I blame you. I’m actually grateful. This beats overnight rounds by the docks. I’m supposed to keep a low profile and make sure no one gives you a hard time. Don’t tell him I approached you and gave up my cover.”
“Seems like you and I are constantly keeping secrets from Derrick. I’ll keep yours if you don’t tell him about those two ladies. I’m already mortified as it is.”
“Deal. Drink your wine, it will make you feel better.”
I swirled the red liquid in the glass and scoffed. “I don’t know if I’ll drink anything ever again, not after what happened to Ella.” Abrams’ eyes widened, and he stared into his empty glass. I choked on a laugh. “I’m sure your wine was fine. You don’t feel dizzy, do you?”
“I don’t think so. But if I die, you have to promise to destroy the strongbox under my bed.” He grinned, a mischievous light in his eyes.
“More secrets, Abrams? I might have to tell on you after all.”
“Not secrets, love letters.” He shuddered. “The sappy kind. No man should be caught dead with them. Ruins their mysterious image.”
“I see. I’ll make sure to take care of them for you.”
He tipped his empty glass into mine. “What about you? What’s the one thing you want to keep hidden? Your greatest fear?” The playfulness had left his voice, and I bit the side of my lip, not liking the edge in his tone. Even though we had developed a camaraderie, he was one of Derrick’s officers. Reveal too much, and all my hard-won secrets could wind up in Derrick’s hands before I was ready to explain them myself.
I handed Abrams my full wineglass. “If I think of one, I’ll let you know. I’m going to get some fresh air on the terrace. I won’t go far.”
Abrams nodded, and I slipped past him, out the side door. When I looked over my shoulder, he was still watching me. I felt the track of his gaze until I moved out of view. A shiver worked its way up my spine at the thought he might have seen me talking with Argus. I’d have to be careful. It was easy to forget that I was technically an outsider, and Abrams’ loyalty belonged to Derrick.
