“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” she said.
He followed the direction of her gaze to the crate. His expression went slightly bemused. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you not?” She set her hands on her hips. “Four days ago, Alice and Tamsin made a number of purchases in St. Petroc’s, which were meant to be delivered to Pomeroy House.”
He raised his brows. “And?”
Oh, he meant to play at innocence, did he? She frowned harder. “Andwhile our parcels were purportedly delivered to the house, none of us have been able to locate them.” She pointed at the crate so he could not pretend to misunderstand. “Until now.”
“I think you are mistaken, Lady Ruby.”
“I beg your pardon?” She took a little step closer to him as well. “Do you intend to suggest that we did not go down to the village? Or that our items have not gone missing? Because either way, I do not believe that—”
“No,” he said, “I mean, I don’t think what’s in that crate is yours.”
Goodness, she was awfully close to him now; she had to lift her chin to meet his eyes. “Forgive me if I seem unduly skeptical, Captain Archer—but if that isnota crate of our stolen belongings, then why were you sneaking about with it in the middle of the night?”
His feet were braced wide, his chest a solid, sand-dotted expanse. His lashes fluttered briefly before he spoke. “I always move crates at night. This one in particular.”
“You always move crates at night?” she repeated incredulously. “In the dark?”
“Of course. To avoid the...”
There was a brief silence.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Dogs.” He said it very definitely, and then he followed the word up with a blinding grin that—curse the man—made her knees feel weak. “It’s bones. A whole crate full of bones from the butcher. Wall uses them in hispotage à la reine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His breath hiccuped on a laugh. “I assure you, that potage was most assuredly made of—”
“Notabout the soup.” She lifted her chin a little higher. “Open the crate and show me.”
“I can’t. The scent of bones will attract the hounds. They’ll wake the whole house with their clamor—you’ve heard them.”
Good God, the way the man spun nonsense ought to be studied by natural philosophers. She scowled at him. “I’m willing to risk it.”
He opened his mouth—no doubt to deliver more absurdities—and then stopped. His entire body went suddenly taut.
Ruby too froze, her gaze flying from Captain Archer to the wide kitchen window.
Something had moved out there in the dark. Some black, man-sized shadow had flitted across the glass.
Her skin went cold. Her whole body, in fact, felt as though she’d been plunged into ice.
That wasn’t... Surely it couldn’t be...
“What the devil,” Archer muttered.
“Was that”—she had to pause to lick her lips—“one of your people?”
“No,” he said flatly. “It wasn’t.”
He put his hand to her arm to hold her in place, and they both stood motionless, listening intently. In the ensuing silence, they heard a sound from outside—a small crack, like a twig snapping.
And then they saw the shadow flit once more across the window.
