“Fine.Stuffy’s with me,” Constance declared.
She strode over to one of the card tables and inserted herself among the well-dressed young people gathered there.Her introduction resounded through the room, brightly charming and unimpeachably confident.
Neil lingered beside Ellie and Adam.His shoulders were tense as he studied the reaction of the group to her arrival.
“She can handle it,” Adam quietly asserted.
“Can you?”Ellie pressed, looking at her brother.
“I’ll manage,” Neil returned without taking his eyes off Constance.
He strode over to join her.
The diamonds at Constance’s ears glittered as she casually introduced him, one of the men at the table rising to pull out a chair for her.
The club secretary had been primed to see Constance as Indian—but the people in the game room were being bombarded with her aristocratic English voice, her finishing school carriage, and her elegant dress.They wouldn’t dare snub her yet—not when she might turn out to be somebody important.
Constance knew how to play that part very well.
Neil was a stiffer presence behind her, shaking his head at the fellow offering him a drink.His ready, watchful posture held the air of a guard dog.
Ellie turned back to Adam.Tension tightened his jaw as he looked across the club.
“What about you?”she asked quietly.
Adam looked startled by the comment.A deeper emotion flashed behind his blue eyes.It looked like pain.“Don’t worry about me.”
Ellie opened her mouth to protest.
Adam stopped her with a pleading look.“Not here, Princess.”
Ellie brushed his hand with her fingers.He gave it a tight squeeze before letting her go.
“North or south?”Adam asked, looking at the doorways leading off to either side.
“Somehow I doubt we’ll find out as much about Borthwick if we go north.”Ellie grimaced.
“Probably not.”
Constance laughed.The sound was brighter and sharper than usual, edged like a weapon.Ellie shot her a worried look.
“How many knives do you think she’s wearing right now?”Adam asked.
Ellie startled at the question.“Two?”
“My money’s on four.”
Ellie glanced up at him with a burst of gratitude.
Adam was right.Constance could handle herself.
She threaded a hand through his arm.“South, then?”
Iron straightened Adam’s spine as he faced the room, a tropical-themed lounge with rattan chairs and potted ferns.“‘Sound trumpets and let our bloody colors wave,’” he muttered.
“Henry the Sixth?”Ellie commented, recognizing the phrase.
In response, Adam flashed her a hint of his usual hell-raising smile.
