Ellise was perusing the latest Sutherland Post with a smile while Caroline continued their conversation, imparting her disbelief over the sudden news of her engagement with Robert Dior.

"You cannot imagine our surprise!" her friend said, leaning closer over steaming tea. "Trent fell off his chair."

She blinked and frowned at her friend. "Why is everyone surprised by the news?"

"Because—because it started as a gossip! From your brother!" Caroline exclaimed. "But truly, Ellise, surely this is not one of your games. Perhaps you and Robert have just gotten bored and decided to entertain everyone with a stupid gossip. I know the pair of you have a peculiar sense of humor. Mayhap you think this is funny?"

"You find marriage as a joke then?"

"No, of course not! But—" her friend sighed. "Are you certain?"

"With what?"

"With Robert!" Caroline looked around the Brierwell parlor. Her husband was outside with Dior, talking with Trent and Jamie, Trent's younger brother, as they prepared their foils for their fencing game. "Are you doing this to escape the social season?"

"No, of course not. In fact, I am preparing for a ball."

"Which ball?"

"The Humbrick Ball."

Her friend's eyes widened. "The Humbrick—" Caroline looked around in disbelief. "But it is the most scandalous balls—"

"I know. I have always been curious. And now that I am engaged, I can attend."

"You mean you are attending with Robert."

She nodded. "Yes. I enjoy the advantage of being engaged. Did you not?"

"No. I was betrothed to Trent for most of our lives. I could barely wait to be married to him the moment I decided I want him."

Ellise returned her attention to the post in her hand, aware that her friend was regarding her with incredulity and awe. She smiled inwardly.

"I never saw you as someone who would settle with a man."

"I have no preference in gender, to be honest. It only happens that Dior satisfies my standard for a match. He could be a woman for all I care."

She stole her friend a glance and chuckled. Caroline was gaping at her. "You are incredibly odd."

"There is nothing odd about it," she said. "There are also men who prefer men. Are you not aware?"

Caroline flushed with color. "Of course, I am aware."

"Then it should not surprise you that women may prefer women. Or that someone can go both ways. I once fancied that blond woman who beat you in fencing."

"Miss Blanche?"

"Ah, yes. I was quite brokenhearted when she married that brute. Such a waste of talent. And now she has to rear five children, all of whom did not take after her."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, I am." She motioned her head to the window. "Ask Dior."

"You mean he was aware?"

"We practiced kissing together during that summer we went to their Parlton estate because I was hoping to apply it to the then Miss Blanche who was, by that time, a year older than I."

Caroline blinked. "You mean to tell me you and Dior practiced kissing?"

"Yes, inside a cupboard."

"And did you kiss Miss Blanche?"

"No. I quite thoroughly enjoyed Dior's kiss. I did not want to be disappointed with Miss Blanche's."

Her friend's shoulders shook with mirth until her laughter erupted inside the parlor. "But Ellise, are you certain with Robert? Mayhap you will someday meet another Miss Blanche. You may regret it."

"I can always take a mistress. Or a male lover."

"Good God."

"If Dior cannot satisfy me, of course."

"You know, perhaps you should reconsider this big decision. I have known the two of you for so long, Ellise. I take back my previous suggestion. You two are too much alike to be a good match. You need someone different."

Ellise set the post aside to look at her friend squarely in the eyes. "Then who do you have in mind?"

"Someone different. Someone opposite who can lure you out of your shell." Her friend scooted to the edge of her seat to lean closer. "I heard that Prince Leo spent some time with you in Herst."

"Yes."

"And I heard he is quite the charmer."

"He was quite taken with me, I have to agree."

"And he did not try to—"

"He did, of course. He kept pestering. I did not appreciate it."

"But why?"

"He is a child."

"You never considered him?"

"No, not at all."

"I heard he was very interested in you from the moment he saw you."

"Who told you?"

"Robert. He was there in Herst as well, yes?"

"Yes. He arrived before Leo and the others," she absently answered, then asked, "Why would he say that?"

"He said it in passing."

Ellise turned to look out the window, frowning at Robert. They were walking back inside the manor. Not long after, he entered the room with Trent. "Jamie joined Camila in the garden, probably scheming their future together," Trent said, going straight to Caroline, planting a kiss on her head. Dior, on the other hand, went to pour two glasses of bourbon, one for himself and the other he handed to Ellise. He sat next to her and took the copy of the post she handed out and read while Ellise sipped her drink. Over the rim of the glass, she saw Trent and Caroline regarding them with bafflement. "What?" she asked.

Robert looked up from the paper and asked, "What?"

"Perhaps we should tell them," she said.

"That we are not getting married?"

Trent and Caroline jerked in their seat. "I knew it!" Caroline said. "Oh, thank goodness."

"Then why is everyone celebrating your engagement?" Trent asked, looking baffled.

Ellise frowned at Caroline. "Why are you so relieved? Was it not you who suggested I marry Dior?"

"She did?" Dior asked, the same time Trent asked his wife, "You did?"

"Yes. She believes we are the only people who can tolerate each other."

"Well, quite true," Trent pointed out. "But answer my question. Why is everyone celebrating your engagement?"

Caroline flushed. "I was merely pointing out options. I was not utterly serious—no offense, Robert, of course," she said, not hearing her husband's question.

Dior looked at Caroline with equal curiosity. "You think we are not a match then?"

"Will someone answer me! Why is everyone celebrating your engagement?" Trent repeated in frustration.

"Well, you are too similar," Caroline replied to Dior.

"Because it is convenient for us to make them believe the gossip for a while. We can always break the engagement anytime," Ellise replied to Trent before turning to Caroline to say, "And what is wrong with two very similar people being together?"

Before either husband or wife could answer, Robert droned, "It is rather petty for people to easily assume opposites should attract each other."

Trent shrugged. "Because it is very common."

Ellise cocked her head to the side, baffled. "But why does it have to be someone opposite?"

"It is not a rule, is it?" Dior asked.

"Most definitely not," she retorted.

Caroline chuckled. "It makes things exciting."

"Because the other is unpredictable," added her husband.

Ellise and Dior scoffed. "If you are wise and creative enough, you can be unpredictable," she said.

Dior set the post aside and crossed his leg. "Two people completely similar and boring together cannot be together?"

Caroline's face contorted with discomfort. "Well, we are not saying—"

"Two people who know how to be bored together can most certainly last longer than those who cannot because they can be bored together and still be together," Ellise interjected.

"Thus, they find no need to search entertainment elsewhere," Dior finished.

"I feel attacked, to be honest," Ellise droned.

"Likewise," Dior added.

"B-but—" Caroline let out an exasperated sigh. "But you are not getting married, are you?"

"No," they chorused. "But it is too presumptuous of people to think we cannot be an excellent match," said Dior.

"And odd for people to set an unspoken standard for said matches," Ellise added.

Trent laughed, resting his arm around his wife's shoulder. "Very well, we concede. You are doing this for some odd reason, but you can definitely be a very good pair. We approve of your sham union."

"We never asked for your permission in the first place," Ellise pointed out.

"No, you did not," Trent said, forcing a smile that bordered on derision.

"Our mothers are planning to arrange an excursion with all our families to celebrate our engagement. Will you join?" Dior asked.

Caroline sputtered in her drink. "Surely you will not lead them on for too long!"

"It will be in Herst," said Ellise. "They need distraction, and planning a wedding is a good one. They will understand when we break the engagement. In fact, they may agree we are not an excellent match after all. Since we are both too much alike."

Trent groaned and murmured to his wife, "They will never let this go for a long time," before turning to face them again. "We will be there. I am quite ecstatic to see your mothers interact as future in-laws. And I look forward to when you two get caught in this scheme."

Ellise smiled. "Oh, they will most definitely clash. They barely make it alive after a trip to the Coffin. And we will not get caught."

"And speaking of which, when will I expect you to join us in the Coffin? You have been evading our sessions," Caroline asked.

"I have no interests in hearing Lady Winthrop's stories about the dead."

"They are quite scandalous, you know—the stories, I mean. Very entertaining."

"I am certain they are."

"I should find Jamie and Camila," Trent said, standing to her feet. "Those two are always up to something peculiar."

"They may be practicing," Ellise said to Caroline, causing her friend to jump to her feet in alarm to follow her husband. As they left, she heard Trent ask his wife, "Practicing what?"

Left alone, both Ellise and Dior scoffed and smiled, equally amused. "I knew they would be rattled," said Dior.

She turned to look at him and waited until he looked up and met her gaze. "I told her about Miss Blanche."

He shook his head at the memory. "Then you told her about the experiment."

"I did, yes."

He frowned, shifting on the settee so he faced her. "I have always been curious. Have you ever gotten around to kissing her?"

"No."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I enjoyed our kiss. Why would I look for another that may not be on par?"

"Ah, then I bested your first love," he said, voice low and teasing. His hand reached for her wrist, and he ran his thumb over her pulse. "Your heart is racing."

She cleared her throat. "Yes." She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "Why did you tell Caroline Leo fancies me?"

"Because it is true."

"Do you think we are a match—Leo and I?"

He shrugged. "You can match anyone, Elle. Badly or incredibly."

"I could be future queen." She caught the glint of anger cross his dark eyes. Fighting off a satisfied smile, she said, "Stop entertaining our friends' idea of a match between Leo and I."

"I will," he said, eyes dropping to her mouth, thumb caressing the sensitive skin over her pulse. "Do you have time tonight?"

"I might, if you can stay past midnight."

His eyes darkened. "Should we stay the night in Brierwell?"

Heat spread like wildfire, scorching down to her fingertips. "Yes."

*****

Ruby warily entered the tavern, her face shadowed by her black cloak. The men in the room quieted upon her entry, but one man stood from his chair and ordered everyone to go on with their drink. He was tall and towered over her, his face covered with smallpox pits, and it wrinkled as he smiled and said, "This way, young lady."

Ruby followed the man, thinking it was not too late to turn and go back to the safety of her villa. But her feet had a mind of their own, taking one step after another, climbing up the stairs, following the man who smelled like cigar and grime.

She moistened her lips as a door was opened for her. And then another.

It was too late now, she thought, standing in the middle of the doorway, facing a beautiful woman with curly blond hair.

"Hello, Ruby," Sheridan Garmont greeted with a mischievous smile, gray eyes regarding her with amused curiosity. "You said you are seeking for help. One that is not from the Royal Circus."

Ruby lifted her chin and squared her shoulders before she unveiled her confident, charming smile. "Yes. I found you may need help with your recent stories about Belcourt."

*****

Supper in Brierwell was uneventful. After an afternoon of fencing—where Ellise won—and a few rounds of chess, which did not end well after Jamie and Camila indignantly claimed Trent cheated, everyone was exhausted by the time the last course was served.

Everyone retired to bed after a quick tea, which made Robert's journey to Ellise's bedchamber a little more convenient. However, he did not find her there. Retracing his steps back to his chamber, he found her walking toward him in a white nightgown.

"Where have you been?" he asked, reaching her in four long strides. He grabbed her hand as he passed, tugging her down the corridor back to his bedchamber.

"I went to your room," she whispered as soon as they were inside.

His heart hammered as the distinct sound of the lock reverberated around the room. She turned around and her eyes landed on the giant bed. "Do you know what color your linens are?" she asked.

"Red."

"It's green."

"Does it matter?" he asked, taking her hand and turning her around to face him.

Ellise looked up, a corner of her lips lifting into a small smile. "I was trying to make small talk."

"By talking about my color blindness?" he said, narrowing his eyes as he easily smiled.

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, bending down just near enough to brush his mouth against hers. She leaned forward, and he pulled away, smiling as she huffed in frustration.

"I never took you for someone who wears a nightdress in bed," he said in her ear, hands kneading her waist through the thin fabric.

"I do not. The covers are much preferable. The nightdress is only for the when I venture out." She smiled when a soft, guttural groan escaped his throat. She pushed him toward the bed, reaching for the top button of his shirt.

He slowed their steps to their destination, lightly grazing the back of his fingers over the fabric that covered her breast. "And what do you do under the covers?" he asked, mouth sliding along her jaw.

She tilted her head to the side to try to catch his mouth, but failed. "Many things—lonely things."

"Good God, Elle," he rasped before he drew her to him and claimed her mouth in a soft kiss. She moved closer, but he pulled back, his eyes telling her how he wanted this night to go.

Ellise narrowed her eyes and pushed, and as he fell back on the bed, she climbed over him. But Robert retaliated and pushed back in a sitting position, hooking his hands under her thighs, roughly pulling so they rested on both sides of his hips. They had found a new challenging game. And like the others before, it would take time for the first loser to be determined. Neither would yield so long as the other had a weapon to wield.

He tugged at the band around her hair and raked his fingers through the long strands that fell heavily around her shoulders, changing her entire appearance—an image she rarely showed people because it was soft and fragile, and very much woman. Ellise with her hair down was as gratifying as it was powerful.

In response to his attack, she cupped and tilted his face to the side so she could have more access to his mouth. Her tongue trespassed and lured him to the edge of danger and defeat, but Robert would not let her win this early.

He pulled her hips lower and closer, showing her the evidence of his need, giving her a prelude to her defeat. She breathed out a frustrated moan when he took his lips back so he could stare into her eyes. He swallowed hard when she shifted over his arousal, the thin material of her drawers leaving no room for imagination.

The knock on the door echoed the hammering of his chest. As it opened, he rolled to the side and covered Ellise while crying over his shoulder, "Wait!"

"Pardon, my lord, but a messenger came for you from Coulway," the footman said through the small crack of the door.

Ellise sighed and dryly pulled the sheets over herself, rolling her eyes at him. Her hair fanned around her on the mattress, and it took all his strength not to order the footman to lock the door so he could have his way with her.

"I'm glad you never kissed Miss Blanche," he said instead, bending down to claim her mouth. "I will be back."

Moments later, Robert was face to face with the messenger from Coulway. "A message from Miss Bella, my lord," the man said, handing him a note.

It was short, and it was alarming.

She's missing.