Nathaniel thought a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
He remembered the way Anna lowered her eyes and how quiet she was. He thought of how she caught the spoon before any officer could blink. Most of all, he thought of the way she’d told him couriers could be dangerous, then looked as if she wanted to swallow her own words.
A slight smile curved his mouth. “I’m sure enough.”
Caleb crossed his arms. “If she is listening, she may become useful.”
“No,” Nathaniel snapped.
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up.
“No,” Nathaniel repeated, stepping toward him. “She’s a servant in an occupied house, surrounded by officers who would hang her before breakfast if they thought she carried messages. She is not trained. She has no protection. So, no.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “And if she’s already putting herself in the middle of it?”
Nathaniel had no answer for that.
The wind rattled a broken barrel near the shed door, catching his attention. Caleb sighed. “Nathaniel, my boy, you cannot save everyone.”
“I have no intention of saving everyone.”
“No, you don’t. Just a maid.”
Nathaniel slid the sealed note back inside his coat. “I have an errand to finish.”
“Nathaniel,” Caleb said, drawing the name out.
He stopped, one hand reaching for his horse’s reins. Caleb followed him. “The night of the ball,” Caleb said. “Watch the officers. Especially Sloane if he’s there. If Ellis shows up, assume every word out of his mouth is bait. Watch the maid if you must, but don’t let concern make you foolish.”
Nathaniel mounted. “Concern rarely does that to me.”
Caleb gave him a look that clearly said Nathaniel had no idea what he was talking about.
Nathaniel grimaced. “Fine. It often makes men foolish. Constantly.”
That earned him a ghost of a smile. Caleb waved him off, and Nathaniel turned his horse toward the road. When he glancedback, his friend had disappeared around the shed, taking the warning with him.
“Friday. South Wharf. Powder in barrels.” Nathaniel blew out a breath. “And the ball.” He urged his horse forward and tried to picture the Pembroke dining room and parlor in his mind, full of candles, officers, music, and servants moving unseen between one danger and the next.
And in the middle of it all would be Anna Turner, who believed that if she remained invisible enough, it would save her.
Unfortunately, she was about to learn something Nathaniel had long ago. Invisibility only worked until the wrong person began to look.
Six
By mid-afternoon, Anna swore she’d polished every piece of silver in the house.
The punch ladle made Anna’s face look like a warped ghost with a pointed chin and very tired eyes. She set it down on the table and stopped using it as a mirror.
“I think you missed a spot,” Mercy said, peering over her shoulder.
Anna rolled her eyes and handed her the ladle. “It’s clean enough to show me how much I dislike polishing it.”
Mercy leaned closer and studied her own reflection. “Good heavens, I look like a turnip.”
Anna smiled and went back to polishing another piece of silver.
