Page 35 of Lyon on the Loose

“We need to keep clear heads between now and tomorrow night,” he said. “I suggest we avoid being together.” His words sounded like a door clanging shut, and he had no right to be upset by the hurt in her eyes when he was the one turning the key in the lock.

He cleared his throat. “Please leave a note under my door when you hear from Treadwell, and I’ll contact you as surreptitiously as I can.”

Lissy clasped her hands together and paced around his tiny parlor. He saw her square her shoulders and felt a dreadful sinking in his stomach—she was hardening her heart against him already.

“You will need a costume if you’re coming to the ball,” she announced. “There’s no time to have one made up—you’ll have to adapt something you already have. Or you could look in the attics—there are a few chests of old clothes up there.”

“What will you be wearing?”

She gave him such a coquettish look that his pulse raced. Damn the woman.

“That must remain a secret. But I’ll find you when the ball begins, and make sure you know it’s me behind the mask.”

“A pity. I had hoped we might be a matching pair, so that everyone could watch and admire us as we waltz around the ballroom. A secretary in disguise can dance with the belle of the ball uncontested, can he not?”

“You must claim your waltz early if you want one—I’m hoping to have many suitors.”

He chuckled. “It would be extraordinary if you didn’t!”

He paused for a moment, battling a jab of jealousy. “I think I might come as an executioner—I just need the right kind of mask and an axe. That way, if anyone sees me escorting Treadwell from the premises, they’ll assume it is in jest rather than earnest.”

“I’m not sure I want to dance with an executioner.”

“You’ll have to,” he assured her. “Executioners can be very persuasive.”

“And very unpopular. You’ll struggle to convince anyone to dance with you.”

He only cared about one dancing partner, but now was not the time to speak.

Lissy smiled, and the tension between them lifted like a released breath. “I’d better go, Roland—there’s nobody in the courtyard, and I don’t want anyone to wonder why I’ve been talking to you for so long. Farewell.”

He watched with unrepentant appreciation as she walked gracefully across the castle’s inner bailey and disappeared into the house.

His smile faded when he glanced down and noticed the corner of his valise protruding from beneath the table. Pray heaven Lissy hadn’t noticed it! It was already packed with everything he needed for his return journey to London.

His plans had been laid before Lissy came to him with the news of Treadwell’s blackmail threat. He’d been going to steal the necklace on the night of the ball when everyone was distracted, collect his baggage, flee through the tunnel, mount his waiting horse, and vanish into the night.

This was still the plan, once he was sure Lissy was safe from Treadwell.

The only plan he didn’t have was the one he most desperately needed—a way to piece together his shattered heart after betraying the woman he loved.

Chapter Seventeen

Early on Friday evening, Lady Ashby came to Lissy’s room to ensure she passed muster before going to the ball.

“You look splendid, my dear. Such a shame your beautiful eyes will be hidden by your mask, though.”

Lissy raised an eyebrow. It was unlike her mother to offer compliments.

“I thought the idea of the mask was rather to enhance the eyes, Mama. It is the eyes and lips which entrance, and the rest of the face that is hidden.”

Her mother, elegantly dressed as one of Henry VIII’s queens—or possibly an amalgam of all six—stared at her intently.

“You do know something about the world, then.”

Lissy bristled. “I may have done something of which Society does not approve, Mama, but I’m inclined to think that is Society’s problem, not mine. I’m not stupid, and object to being insulted.”

“I apologize—I was attempting to tease you. I’m not very good at it.”