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“Along with all of our money,” Lord Larkin added with a look of distress that seemed almost genuine.
“Pickpocketed right here on this street!” Annie cried, getting into the spirit. She was rather the dramatic sort, Brigid noticed.
“Why, I haven’t eaten since early this morning when we disembarked our ship.”
“What was the ship’s name?” Brigid hounded rather evilly.
It was clear as day that the entire story was fabricated. She didn’t know what the pair hoped to gain by it. But she still sensed no ill intention from them. Instead, Brigid could practically feel a real sort of desperation between them.
They were looking for something, this was truth. And somehow, Brigid felt in her bones that she was the one to help them find what they were looking for.
“Why don’t you come home with me,” she heard herself say before her mind caught up with her mouth. And before the pair could flounder further for a fake ship’s name
“I am certain my relatives—Lord and Lady Rathbourne—would be glad to take you in until your people and belongings arrive. It is only two weeks, correct?”
Annie nodded vigorously, while Lord Larkin (or whoever he really was) gazed at Brigid consideringly. Though he, too, finally dipped his head in assent.
“Well then,” she said, “it is settled. And you are coming with us to the Ball tonight.”
Her lips curled in a delighted smile. For the first time, real life promised to be just as interesting as her dreams.
“We have a myth to discover, after all. And a Pale Prince to ensnare.”
