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“Not at all, not at all.” He stammered. “Not . . . no.”
It seemed his ability to lie had evaporated. What happened at the prison must’ve been a fluke.
“Who might your guest be, sir?” the sideburned man asked.
“This is . . . my friend, Lady—”
“Lady Ruskin,” I said, holding my head high and putting on a noble accent.
Graham nodded for a little too long. “Yes, Lady Ruskin. Eleventh House. Obviously. She’s joining me for . . . tea.”
The young guard stared. “Sir Brennin, forgive me for asking, but are you feeling well?”
He opened his mouth, but I didn’t trust him to speak again.
“Unfortunately, he is not,” I said. “He’s in a terrible state and has been ever since discovering he may have been the target of the Academy assassin. Naturally, he’s horrified.”
Graham looked at me, nodding absently. “It’s true. Lady Ruskin accompanied me home because I’m so . . . very afraid . . . of assassins.”
I clenched my teeth, then tried to pass it off as a smile.
“I was under the impression that Imperatrix Brennin had assigned guards to remain with you at all times,” said the young guard. “Have they abandoned their duty, sir?”
Graham started to shake his head.
“Yes,” I said in a rush. “It seems they have. Now, please open the gates so we may get him to safety.”
The guard with sideburns looked back at me. “Indeed, Lady Ruskin, but may we please see your rank card?”
I pushed out my lips in an exaggerated pout. “Really? Everywhere I go! No one ever cares to remember the Eleventh House. We’re Immovables too!”
“Excuse me, milady, but we meant no disrespect. We’re required to ask, no matter how well-ranked our visitors may appear.”
“No. I won’t put up with this. I shouldn’t have to show my card like an ordinary citizen!”
Graham straightened and addressed the men. “Lady Ruskin has shown me great kindness today. She’s my honorable guest, and I expect her to be treated as such. Now, will youpleaselet us into my own home?”
I looked away haughtily.
The sideburned guard spoke in a low voice. “As you wish, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Graham.
The guards finally put the key in the lock and opened the gates.
I tried to keep my distance as I passed them, but I thought I saw one of the men put a hand over his nose.
We crossed the grounds, skirting around the edge of the mansion to a back door into the servant’s kitchen. We went through it, up the stairs, down a corridor to another flight of stairs, and past dozens of doors until we stopped at the end of a hall.
Graham opened the hall’s final door and I went in ahead of him.
He peered back before coming in and closing the door. The gigantic bed between two windows was the first thing I noticed. The pile of newspapers on his desk was the second.
“I’m sorry to take you in here,” he said. “I know it’s terribly inappropriate.”
“You lied for me, broke me out of prison, bought me a gown, and now you expect me to be offended because I’m in your bedroom?”
He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, glancing between the chairs and the door. “Here,” he said. “I have something for you.” He opened a nightstand drawer and pulled out a familiar gray bag.
