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Graham went forward, leading us through the inner walls of his home.
“Can we go faster?” I asked.
“Not really,” said Graham. “We’re about to exit into the ballroom. If anything, we need to slow down and pick some spiders from that wig of yours.”
“What makes you think I’m wearing a wig?” I asked with an offended gasp.
Graham laughed before stopping himself.
It was the first time I’d heard the sound since he knew my real name, and it lifted my spirits like nothing else could. With that sound, I could believe he didn’t entirely hate me. The fact that he was helping us escape was my first hint that maybe he didn’t wish me dead, but his laugh—that felt like before, existing only in the realm of my daydreams.
“Wait.” I hurried after him through the narrow passage, coming back to my senses. “Did you say the ballroom?”
“Indeed,” he said. “We’ll need to get from one end to the other to reach the front door, so you’ll need to look natural, like you’re actually enjoying yourself.”
“We?” I asked. “You’re coming with us?”
Graham leaned in close. “You still need to explain yourself, and I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”
My heart flopped, but I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or threatened by the statement.
“Once we get outside,” said Graham, “look for the Ruskin carriage.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, confused. Cael told me he’d have a carriage for me if I poisoned Pearce, but I hadn’t expected Graham to know about it.
“Cael arranged it in case you made an appearance tonight,” said Graham. “We both thought you might.”
“Oh.” I nodded, feigning ignorance. “That was . . . kind of him.”
Cait laughed, then covered it up with a cough.
The passage ended in a solid wall. There were no knobs or hinges to be found.
Graham handed the light to me, then pressed both hands to the wall, sliding it to the left until a crack appeared. Golden light and lively music spilled through as it widened. A marble wall stood a few paces ahead, shielding the main ballroom from view. It looked like we’d enter into a small alcove.
I put the light back into my clutch and brushed the cobwebs from my gown.
Graham gestured the three of us through the passage door and followed, sliding the door shut. From this side, it appeared to be nothing but a tall mirror.
He peered around the corner into the ballroom, and I joined him.
The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of radiant color, the glossy floor reflecting the spinning dancers waltzing across it.
“Everyone is dancing,” I said. “Walking across the room will make us look practically insolent.”
Graham looked at me, his blue eyes appraising me from head to toe. Letting out a resigned sigh, he held out his hand to me. “Then we shall dance.”
My eyes widened at the offer. Even if it was only a means to an end, the gesture still put a flutter in my stomach.
I pulled the handle of my clutch over my arm, letting it slide to my elbow, then gingerly took his hand, savoring the heat of his touch as he placed his other hand firmly on my waist.
I let out a small, involuntary gasp.
His hand tightened on my waist almost imperceptibly, and he pulled me a little closer.
We locked eyes.
I dared to keep looking, waiting for him to break eye contact first, but he didn’t.
