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“I am not leaving you,” she said stubbornly.
“Well, you can’t follow me. I need to investigate, climb the rooftops. Would you be able to do that in your gown?”
Olivia looked down at herself then raised her face to his, her features set in a determined mask.
“Please,” Jarvis took her hands in his. Her warmth spread through every nerve of his body. “I shall come to you after.”
Olivia blinked up at him. “You promise?”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
Olivia gave a tiny nod and scurried away.
Jarvis stepped toward the duke and the prone body of a dead woman. “Who is she?” he asked.
“I do not recognize her. And I know everyone.”
“Well, apparently not everyone,” Jarvis remarked.
“She is not a lady,” Kensington said evenly. “What was she doing at my masked ball?”
“Shall I send for the thief-taker?”
Kensington didn’t answer. “Murder in my own home,” he finally murmured. “In the midst of my masquerade. Not many would dare.”
The main door to the townhouse opened and closed with a loud bang. There was an argument, then pleading, and a few moments later, four men—not gentlemen, not even close—entered the corridor.
Kensington stood. He and Jarvis stepped out into the corridor, shielding the body. The footmen stepped closer to their master, and a few more servants crowded behind the unwelcome visitors. But with one gesture of a hand, Kensington motioned for them to stay back. The four men separated, and a chill filled the hall, the ghastly wind dousing half the candles in the corridor. A tall, imposing figure stepped into the corridor with an unhurried step. Hades.
“Where is she?” he asked without preamble.
“You are not welcome here.” Kensington didn’t skip a beat.
Hades’s gaze fell to the prone body on the floor, and his face contorted in pain. He took a step forward, and Kensington did the same.
“Who is she?” Kensington asked.
“She is none of your concern,” Hades growled.
“She died at my masquerade.”
Hades’s pale face grew ghostly white. His eyes darted to the body again.
He gritted his teeth. “Then you’re the worst host and even worse duke. And you shall pay for that,” he said and turned to his men. “Take her.”
“You are not taking anyone,” Kensington gritted out.
Hades took out his pistol, and his men bared their weapons. The footmen took another step forward, but Kensington raised his hand.
“You are not going to kill me in my own house, Hades. Not even you. You’re going to hang the moment you try.”
“Then I shall, at last, be in peace.” Hades tipped his head, and his men sidestepped both Jarvis and Kensington and reached the body.
One man took the cloaked woman into his arms, and the rest shielded him like armor. In a few moments, they left the corridor and walked out of the house.
As the door shut behind them, the memory of the criminals and the dead woman felt like a bad dream.
“Why did you let them go?” Jarvis asked.
