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Chapter 17

Engagée

CORA

“Your Grace! What a surprise!” Mr. Duval exclaimed, standing from his seat on the rock and bowing. Yet he said it in a way that made me believe it wasn’t a surprise at all. He’d known Yves would come. In fact, the grin on his face told me he was betting on it. “My new friend and I were just talking about consorts.”

Yves didn’t acknowledge his comment. Nor did his attention drift from my face. It had the same effect as a hand on my neck or lips on my back and made my nipples tighten beneath my night shift.

“Mr. Duval, could you take Adrien back to the house?” Yves asked. “I need to speak with my guest. Alone.”

I chastised myself for every foolish thought about the Duke. Who I was not going to have sex with, especially not in his wife’s memorial garden.

Duval smirked as he strode off toward the cottage.

Yves and I stood staring at each other while his sanguine partner coaxed Adrien into leaving. While we waited, the silence between us stretched. Words were left unsaid. Urges, buried. I fidgeted in place to release some of the tension.

Once Adrien and Duval had said their goodbyes and were well past the gate, Yves took a step closer and finally broke the silence. “What happened to your hand? Did Adrien hurt you?”

“No, of course not. I tripped on a loose stone. Mr. Duval was kind enough to bandage up the wound.”

A dark look crossed Yves's face. “I’ll have the gardener out here first thing to fix it.”

Guilt swam in my stomach knowing someone was going to have to do unnecessary work because of my lie. And the relics.

“So, you’ve met my sanguine partner,” Yves commented.

“Yes. Mr. Duval seems very kind.”

“He’s also a shameless flirt,” the Duke said flatly, scowling in the direction Mr. Duval had gone. “I hope you didn’t find him too forward.”

Too forward? A ridiculous fear, especially considering the subject matter of my most recent thoughts. But the humor quickly left me.

“Do you have news?” I asked. “What did you find?”

Yves surveyed the garden. “Can we go inside?” He held out his arm for me, and I gave him a withering look. “I don’t want you to trip again.”

Acquiescing to his request, I gingerly set my hand on the crook of his elbow. We walked together down the garden path, and I tried not to let any salacious thoughts creep into my mind.

The moment the cottage door clicked shut behind us, my heart began pounding loudly in my chest.

“So,” I pressed. “What happened?”

He glanced away from me. “I didn’t end up going. It was too risky. Adrien… I was worried he’d follow me.”

“So who went then?” I inquired.

“My nephew.”

I frowned. His nephew? The one who had a permanent scowl pressed onto his face?

“When Severin arrived at The Drowned Goose, it was empty. Lou had cleared the place out before they arrived. The documents. His people.” A pause. “All gone.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “What about the person who was screaming in the cellar?”

Yves shook his head.

I pressed my hand flat against my stomach. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. An entire gambling den is cleared out in an hour, and it wasn’t enough? I’d lost my magick trying to expose the truth.