To the right, an elegant couple danced in matching misery. Their marriage had been heralded as the perfect match four years before, but he was now rumored to be frustrated with the lack of children. Apparently their beauty could not alleviate that disappointment. They were lovely, but they were not happy.
Farther away, toward the middle of the crowd, a man and woman who were both unfortunately short and boxy were engaged in a less elegant waltz, but their smiles radiated delight as he whispered things into her ear that made her blush and giggle. They'd been married nearly twenty years, Marissa knew, because their oldest daughter had just come out.
Ridiculous observations, easily visible even to a child, she suspected, but Marissa saw these truths for the very first time. Elegance did not make for a good husband any more than it made for a good bed partner. As a matter of fact, it was so inconsequential as to be meaningless in the face of a few years together.
Then again, couldn't she end up miserable with Jude as easily as she could with some handsome young buck?
Jude came into view again, and her heart pitched sharply down. He was an adequate dancer, not as fluid as some of the other gentleman, vet Marissa wanted to be in his arms. No one else's. She wanted to ogle his legs, knowing she would see them stripped of wool cloth later in the evening. She wanted to pet his chest again, and kiss it, and this time she would lick him, as well, to see if that made him purr like a pleased beast.
That woman, that stranger, she probably already knew the answer to that. Instead of fury, Marissa felt despair, because she suspected this realization had come too late.
Jude looked up, face happy over something the woman had said, but when he met Marissa's eyes, his smile fell away in a slow wash, as if the sight of her was pulling it down.
And in that sad moment, Marissa realized that she loved him.
The nearby trees created a constant storm of dried and dying leaves rustling and scraping in the wind. Jude could hear no footsteps or breathing, but there was no missing the jet-black figure that slipped up to the artistically piled rocks of the Greek folly.
Jude was surprised by the surge of fury he felt at the sight. He wanted this done and behind him, and it was only the smallness of the figure that kept him from knocking it to the ground with a brutal blow. Instead of throwing his fist at the shadow, he slipped a hand over its mouth and snatched the specter off its feet. A quick squeal snuck past his hand before he cut it off, but Jude wasn't surprised by the high pitch, nor by the softness of the body as it pressed into his. He'd known it was a woman right away, despite the dark cloak and deep night, and he felt a stark relief that it wasn't Harry.
The sack of money fell and bounced off Jude's foot as the woman struggled in his hold. She was a tiny thing, though, and he had no trouble pinning
her arms clown and reaching for the bag. She twisted harder its he pulled her into the trees. "Quiet. You're caught, and there's nothing to be done for it."
She cried out behind his hand and bucked against him.
"Come, woman. You'll only hurt yourself."
After a few more minutes of straining and wriggling, she finally gave in and slumped against him. Jude stopped to give his heart a moment to recover. He'd only settled into his witch five minutes before, and the shock of seeing a dark figure sneak toward the rocks had sent his pulse racing. The surprise of realizing it was a woman still confounded him. Was it possible Patience had lied?
The cloak had bunched up on her head, so he couldn't even glimpse the color of her hair in the faint light of the half-moon. It could be Patience. She was a slender woman.
Christ, what a mess this was.
Jude slowly cased his hand down, and the forest filled with echoing pants as the woman pulled in breath after panicked breath. She was sobbing by the time he reached into his pocket for a rope to tie her hands. He lugged her arms behind her back and began to wind the rope around.
"Please, sir!" she whimpered.
Not Patience, thank God.
"Please, sir, it wasn't my idea, I swear it!"
Jude frowned at the cadence of her words. Even past the panicked sobs, he could tell she was a villager or servant. And in that moment, he knew that the mystery wasn't solved. They wouldn't know the culprit unless the woman could be persuaded to talk. And even then, what hold would they have
over the blackmailer? None. He hadn't received his five-thousand pounds, so the talc would be told.
"Who do you work for?" he growled in frustration.
She wept harder, and shook her head in answer.
"God damn it! Who do you work for?"
"Please, sir. Please."
"Well, if you won't speak the truth, at least keep your mouth shut."
Wrapping his hand around her arm, Jude tugged her through the trees toward the lighter night beyond them. Aidan had already grown tired of the party, and when Jude had relieved him, he'd volunteered to wait in the garden instead of going inside. Jude saw the orange glow of his cigar when he was still forty steps away.
"I've got her."
"Her?" Aidan asked, pushing to his feet.
The windows of the manor cast a faint glow over the garden, so Jude tugged down the girl's cloak to get a look. She was no one he recognized, and Aidan looked her over and shrugged as well. Back to square one.
"We don't dare interrogate her here. If you'll call for one of the carriages, I'll meet you just past the gates."
"Good idea. I'll let Edward know."
The girl stiffened in his hands. "No! Please don't."
"You don't want to go with us? There's a simple solution to that, sweetheart. Tell us who sent you to retrieve the money."
She shook her head, then jerked straight. "I don't know who sent me!" she said brightly, as if the idea had just occurred to her. Jude rolled his eyes and led her back toward the woods.
"Then we'll spend the carriage ride discussing his appearance, shall we? Perhaps one of us will recognize him."
"Don't take me away," she plead a few times as they walked. Jude ignored her in the hopes she would break and confess, but she didn't.
Though he was naturally sympathetic to women at a disadvantage, Jude spent the next quarter hour steeling himself against her pitiful pleas. Whether she was responsible or not, she'd played an essential part in this plot to destroy Marissa, and he would not let his tender heart affect the plan.
When the carriage finally rattled from the dark, the girl ducked down and tried to lunge toward escape, but Jude caught her on her second step and lifted her easily through the open door. He jumped in behind her and found that Edward had joined them as well. Jude tossed the money to him.
"Harry is going to gather up the women in a few minutes," Edward explained. "I didn't think it wise to usher everyone out in a rush." His eyes slid to the girl, now huddled in the corner of he seat. "Who is she?"
"She won't say."
Edward tugged her cloak back and frowned. "I don't think I know her, but she's a touch unremarkable, I suppose. Who are you, girl?"
She shook her head and tugged the hood back up. "Please let me go. I'm only a servant. I had nothing to do with this!"
Jude glared at her bowed head. "And yet you haven't yet asked what 'this' is, which strikes me as highly suspicious."
"Tonight could go very badly for you," Edward added. "A few years in jail, at least. But if you tell us the name of your employer, perhaps it will end well."
The girl looked up then, her eyes widening at the thought, but perhaps she was smart enough to see they were bluffing, because she shook her head again. In truth, it would go badly for her either way. If her master turned her out for giving away his identity, she'd be unemployable whether she went to jail or not.
Jude cocked his head and studied her, now that she was looking at them. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of her full mouth. She was pretty enough that this might not be about her position.
He considered Cousin Harry one last time as he offered his next conjecture. "Perhaps it is not a matter of who her employer is, but her lover?" She only looked momentarily confused, so he shook his head. "No, that's not it. Her accomplice is not her lover, so perhaps it's a woman behind this, after all."
"Ah," Aidan murmured when her face paled. "That's it then."
The girl pressed her lips together and dropped her head. She refused to say anything more no matter how many questions they peppered her with.
"Well," Edward sighed, "it's clear it must have something to do with one of you two."
"What?" Aidan barked, while Jude wondered again if it was Patience causing this trouble. But he was nearly certain it didn't fit her personality. He'd inherited a gift from his mother, to meet a person for even a few moments and form a good impression of them. She had based her whole career on that sense. Choosing the right man could mean the difference between life and death for a woman like her.
"What do you mean?" Aidan asked, nudging Edward's foot with his.
Edward barked a laugh. "If there's a woman out to destroy our family, surely you can see your fingerprints in this."
"That's the most—"
"Hold!" Jude shouted over Aidan's rising voice. "Edward's right that it could have something to do with one of us, but let's not forget the focus of this madness. Marissa. If it's a woman behind this... she could've come by her knowledge any way."
Her brothers exchanged uncomfortable glances.
"I'm talking of visits and changes of dress and bathing in the pond and—"
"Oh," Edward interrupted. "Of course."
"So how do we figure it out?" Aidan asked.
They all turned to look at the girl. As they studied her in silence, Jude's mind turned back toward Marissa. When he'd looked up from Corrinc to catch her watching, he'd known that taunting her with Corrinc had been a bad idea. The dance itself had been a happy waltz through the memories of their time together. He'd enjoyed it, but that enjoyment only made his gut burn with guilt now.
While he'd meant to tweak her pride, he'd seen more than indignation on Marissa's face. He'd seen sorrow. Sorrow he'd caused.
He was ashamed now. The characteristics he'd always liked about Marissa, the wild, free heart that was so at odds with her cool exterior... he'd started to resent her for those very things. He could hardly blame her for being confused. A few days ago, he'd teased her for her love of pretty boys, and now he derided her and called her shallow.
If his mother were here, she would toss her head in disgust and call him a fool. And she would be right.
Furious with himself, he turned that anger on this girl who was trying to harm Marissa. "We are almost to the York estate. You only have a short time left to confess what you know. I'll personally retrieve the constable myself as soon as we are settled, and then the matter will be out of our hands."
Though she took a shuddering breath, the girl said nothing.
"Tell us your mistress's name, and we'll let you go."
She was shaking her head when the carriage slowed and pulled to a stop.
"We're here," Edward murmured. "Let's get her inside and decide what is to be done. But if the girl is missed, it could already be too late."
Jude stepped heavily from the carriage and pulled the girl toward her temporary prison. For the first time, this family seemed more scandalous than his own, and he was quite sure he was no longer enjoying the drama.
Marissa raced through the house, heart and hands both trembling with anxiety. She knew nothing except that someone had been caught and brought back to their estate, which made no sense. Harry claimed that the men knew nothing more than she, and he seemed just as unconcerned as the baroness, who'd chattered brightly about intrigue on the whole ride home. Marissa was beside herself.
Her family's reputation was poised on the brink of ruin because of her actions, and the rest of them seemed to think it a farce. Maddening people.
Her slippers slid across the floor when she tried to make the turn. Marissa bumped hard into the wall, then kept going. She put her arm out to keep herself from tumbling around the next corner, and then she was at her brother's study... only to find the door was locked.
After wiggling the knob, she knocked impatiently. The quiet murmur of male voices stopped, and she was under the distinct impression that everyone, herself included, was holding their breath.
"Let me in!" she finally hissed.
The murmurs started again, and a few moments later she finally heard the click of the lock turning. Edward stuck his head out. "You shouldn't be here, Marissa. It's no place for a woman."
She tried to shove him out of the way, but his body didn't budge. "This is
my
scandal, Edward. Don't be ridiculous."
"Marissa—"
"Get out of the way!" She kicked him in the shin, which probably hurt her toes more than his leg, but he was so surprised that he gasped in horror.
"I want to know who it is, Edward!"
"We don't know who it is," he said, making a great show of rubbing his leg and looking hurt.
Jude would let her in. She knew it. So she called his name, and Edward rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine, you stubborn brat. Come in and see if you can make any more sense of this than we can."
He opened the door, and Marissa meant to search the room for the blackmailer, but as the door swung open, she spied Jude, only three feel away and reaching toward the door. For a moment, she thought he was reaching for her, and her heart jumped up to pound against her throat in delight. Maybe he didn't hate her. Maybe it wasn't too late.
But his hand dropped as the door swung open, and when she met his eyes, his gaze fell to the ground.
Marissa stared at his hard jaw and wide mouth, and she wished she had the right to touch him. To greet him simply and rise up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. But with all that lay between them now, she knew that even if they married, she wouldn't have that right. They would be like those other unhappy couples who danced together only once at each ball for appearance's sake. What would people see when they looked at Marissa and Jude? An unfortunate match, they'd say, likely blaming Jude's appearance and low beginnings.
Marissa felt a sharp pain where her heart had been pounding just a moment before. That future seemed unbearable, and as she stepped closer to Jude, Marissa reached out and touched his hand.
He frowned. His eyes rose. But before she could identify the emotion in his look, Edward slammed the door and locked it, startling her into dropping her hand.
"Well?" he said. "Here is our culprit, but she—"
"She?" Marissa asked, spying the huddled figure pressed against one arm of the couch.
"Yes, it's a girl. A servant, we think, but she won't reveal who her employer is, or anything else for that matter.
Marissa cocked her head to see beneath the cloak, but she couldn't make out anything of the shadowed face. "Remove the hood, please," she said loudly, but the girl only curled more tightly upon herself.