"Are you out of your bloody mind!" she hissed, and she saw him frown as she cursed. "One reason I want to escape is to not marry you. Or did that small piece of information too big for your brain?"

"Calm down, Cressida," his voice droned.

"I'm calm, my lord. This is the calmest I can be, in fact. I'm simply emphasizing words in case you have missed them, which you apparently do quite often." She placed her hands on her hips and huffed, closing her eyes for a few seconds to gather her wits and self-control.

"What I'm trying to say is that marrying me won't make you a married woman if you get out of here. And the same goes for me. No wife, no marriage. Marrying you will solve my problem once you leave. While you have your adventure up there, I will not have to deal with the inconveniences of an eligible bachelor. I'll be a married lord, only that I would not have to deal with a wife. My father will have to turn to my other brothers for the heirs he wants."

Cressida stomped her foot with frustration, imagining the ground was his face. "But I do not want—"

"Neither do I. But a wedding will happen or you won't have your chance of getting out of here at all. Either way, you'll still end up with me."

"People will think you murdered your wife if I disappear."

"You do not have to be murdered, Cressida. You simply have to disappear," he said, flashing a smile. It was the first time it actually reached his eyes.

"This is incredulous."

"This is the perfect plan. We marry, we go off to the other side of the Town to Easton, I take you to a passage and you'll go on an adventure aboveground. It's the most convenient way by far. Getting to the nearest passage out of here will take days of travel. How am I supposed to get you there if we're not married? As husband and wife, no one will raise questions if we disappear for a long period of time. We can tell everyone that we will take permanent residence in Easton, far from Willowfair, and no one will know you're gone for months, even years."

"How about my parents? They will come calling. They will want to see me now and then. They will bother you more if we're married because then I'd be your problem—I mean, your responsibility."

"That shall be my problem once you're gone, not yours."

"You mean to say that you shall lead them to believe that I left you, eloped with someone else?"

"An elopement with a lover is more likely going to be everyone's deduction even without word from me. It's not something you will not have to bother with because you'll have a completely different life in a different world by then."

Cressida paused. She hated that he was making sense. If they wed, everyone would leave her alone. No one could do anything about it. And if Calan claimed it would be more convenient for him, then she would not deny him of it. After what he would do for her, he deserved it. The consequences would have to be faced by him, not her. He could deal with it because he was a Leaguer. And Leaguers were powerful and he could get away with an investigation should one ensue upon her disappearance. There would not even be enough evidence to point out he killed her. Everyone would be left with naught but the gossip that she ran away with a lover. Cressida Did It Again, the gossip section of the Town Herald would say.

In the end, they would both achieve their goals. She would disappear from the Town, away from prying eyes, and she could not give a care if people were to think she left her husband for a lover. And Calan would get his peace by being a married man—in name. People would fear him if they were to believe he killed her, or sympathize with him if the elopement story would prove to be stronger, which was probable, considering her scandalous reputation. She could always leave a note for him, explaining her elopement. Yes, of course! That way he would remain a married man with a missing wife.

But there was one problem. "The wedding is going to be in a month. That is too long a time to wait."

His brows arched. "Do you have something arranged up there, my lady? Someone waiting for you? A ball to attend, perhaps? Tea party?"

She scowled. "Do not mock me."

"Then be patient. The wedding day needs to happen, Cressida. The marriage life, on the other hand, cannot."

She finally saw the difference. Of course, she could marry him but did not have to live the rest of her life with him.

She sighed. "I believe being your wife for a day or two won't hurt at all. And a month shall be enough for me to settle matters. Perhaps I'll even hint to a few that I'm in love with another so no one will think you killed me."

"Good." He peered down at her. "Have we reached an agreement?"

She did not like the way he was smiling at her. She did not like how his presence made her feel either. When she gave a terse nod, he straightened to full height with a satisfied smile and offered her his arm. "Shall we start performing then? Act like we cannot wait for the wedding day to happen?"

She frowned. "No. Whyever would you—"

"You'll be leaving the Town, Cressida. And I'll have to deal with the gossipmongers you'll leave behind. I'd rather want to give them a sense of uncertainty about your disappearance than be completely judged for it."

"I thought you want them to think badly of you? And trust me, they will not even think badly of you. I'll be judged alone, my lord."

Without a reply, he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. He guided her away from the garden. "It's far more amusing to witness them crack their brains, wondering how a besotted husband could kill his pretty wife."

Cressida groaned. "Or wonder why you never saw it coming that your wife will go off with an unknown lover, leaving you behind to mend your broken heart. Fret not, I'll leave you a gift, my lord—a letter explaining why I had to leave you for the greatest love of my life. You may forward it to the Town Herald."

She thought she saw the corner of his mouth tug with amusement. "You're doing well, my lady. Shall we discuss the content of this letter while we waltz?"

Cressida suddenly felt ecstatic. She was rather enjoying this now that she had an accomplice. Ah, evil indeed liked company.

This ought to be perfect!

And if a charade of being a happy bride was what it would take for her to leave the Town without question, then Cressida would gladly play the part. She simply had to make certain to remind herself that Calan was doing this for the same selfish reasons.

*****

In the following days after their agreement, the people all over Willowfair had to witness, much to their surprise, the Lord of Easton going about town with his betrothed. Cressida tried to ignore the smiles thrown their way whenever they had to make appearances in the parks, or whenever Calan would escort her into a shop like a truly besotted husband-to-be.

And in the days that followed, she discovered things about him that surprised her. Most often, when they were alone or out of earshot, he was serious and guarded. She would find him absently staring at her and she would look away instantly, refusing to give any meaning to the crime she caught him doing. There were also times when he would be more at ease, even going boldly as taking her hand in his and talk about trivial things and joke about them with her. She would look around and find that there were people staring at them. Surely, they were the reason for his rather intimate display.

Sometimes she wondered if he really cared about her being too outspoken at all, because every time she talked, he would lean closer and listen to her every word. Either he really enjoyed talking to her, or he was simply just an excellent actor. After all, he was a Leaguer. The fact that no one could point out for sure who a Leaguer was among the citizens of the Town told Cressida that they were the best in blending in.

In the days she spent with Calan, never did Cressida allow herself to make assumptions. She was no longer the naïve girl who dreamed for a prince like the Lord of Easton. He was merely acting as the besotted groom who would soon lose his wife. With that thought in mind, she made it a point that she played her part.

It was not entirely difficult, as she first thought, because he was truly that good in making her feel comfortable when necessary, especially in the presence of the gossipmongers.

There was also one occasion, just two days ago, when Calan surprised Cressida. They were inside a bookshop, trying to waste as much time as possible away from her parents' estate where her mother was making plans for the wedding, and Cressida was alone in one section looking at a new novel while Calan was off somewhere to find something else that was more interesting for his taste.

Belinda came in with her maid and the lady immediately spotted Cressida, taking the opportunity to start another of their graceful spats. "Where's your groom, Cressida? Had he finally escaped?"

Cressida ignored her, flipping through the pages of the book in her hand without reading a word. She was more focused on keeping her temper in check, reminding herself that murder may prevent her from escaping the Town. A crime will land you in jail, Cressy. Stay calm and graceful.

"Not so very outspoken now, are you? Why? Do not tell me it's about that gossip."

"What gossip are you talking about, Belinda?" she asked dryly, eyes still on the book.

"Oh, please. I know you've read that article on the Herald." When Cressida remained mum, Belinda stepped closer and whispered, "It said that the Lord of Easton keeps a really, really dark secret."

Cressida rolled her eyes. Of course, she had heard that gossip. "Ah, gossips. Always fooling the witless, Belinda. Do you not agree?"

Belinda scoffed. "Are you not the least bit curious?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, she was. "No, not really. Gossips are unreliable, Belinda."

"Every bit I have read about you thus far were true," Belinda countered.

The prints of the book may have very well transferred to her thumb by the force of her grip. She looked up to force a smile on her lips. "Why, thank you. I'm glad my little scandals entertain the bored polite society."

Belinda let out a menacing chuckle. "Oh, trust me, Cressida. Your scandals are like the holy bible to us. They are a significant source of learning, really—teach us a thing or two on how not to be like you and all that."

Before Cressida could open her mouth to throw Belinda off guard, Calan's voice spoke behind them. "I must say, Lady Belinda, that your talent must be greater in comparison to my future wife considering you read the Herald so religiously."

Belinda looked arrested. The lady had stepped back, almost crashing against her maid when she saw Calan who added, "But I must ask—why are you here?"

"My lord?" the lady managed to say, her face the same color as her hair.

Calan looked around with arched brows. "I do not recall this shop selling a copy of the Herald. And since I assume it's the only piece of literature you read, I'm left to wonder why you're here at all." He stepped closer to Cressida with a smile, his hand holding her elbow. "Or is it because my betrothed is here and you wish to ruin her day, to which I'm inclined to say that you do not have to do so because I've already ruined it for her."

This time, Cressida blinked, and she turned to look up at him. "You have?" What in the bloody hell is he talking about?

He looked down at her with a smile that meant to dazzle. "Darling, did I not just say moments ago that you should at least read one article of the Herald every day? To which you indignantly answered that it's too shallow for your taste."

Cressida immediately caught on and gamely said, "And to which you replied I should at least pretend I like it over other more sensible reads," waving the book she held in her hand.

Belinda was blinking at them with a mixture of incredulity and horror, her hand to her chest. But Calan was not through yet because he uttered, "And to which I regret I missed adding that I'm rather fond of the idea that I'm marrying someone who has an excellent taste in literature. Thank the heavens indeed that I'm not marrying a fool!"

"Well then, I forgive you. But I won't pretend I like the Herald, my lord, even if you deem it necessary." She turned to Belinda and finished with, "It's the worst kind of literature the Town ever created. Well, not the entirety of it, of course. There's just one particular section I abhor."

Belinda's face had gone scarlet, but as gracefully as ever, she managed to smile and say, "I must say that you are quite a pair. Would you not agree, Nana?" she asked her maid who did not reply. "This precious couple are—"

"Detrimental?" Calan offered.

"What? No, of course not, my lord."

"Wicked? Shallow?" Cressida added, now grinning because she could not help it anymore. "Stupid, perhaps?"

"Why don't we just settle with well-suited?" Calan finished.

Belinda scoffed with an incredulous smile as she shook her beautiful head. "Oh, goodness," was all Belinda could manage before she lifted her chin and stiffly stormed out of the shop, her maid not far behind.

Cressida finally let out a laugh, bending low over the book in her hand, tears coming out the corners of her eyes. "That is the best moment of the day so far, my lord," she told him when she finally recovered from her mirth. "Please remind me to thank you for it later."

He chuckled as he reached out to wipe off the moisture from the corner of her eye. And then he stiffened. Cressida was quite disappointed to see the laughter in his eyes slowly disappear, but was intrigued when it was replaced by something intense, although she could not point out what for certain.

He cleared his throat and stepped away from her. "No wonder you find the Town frustrating. If I have to deal with another lady like that one, I'll grab the first rope I can find and climb out the nearest hole." And then he turned away to inspect the nearest shelf of books.

Cressida's smile melted away as she watched his back in consideration. "Is it true?"

"What?"

"What she said. That you keep some dark secrets." She meant to tease but immediately regretted her question when he turned to her with a hard look on his face.

"Yes." He did not even deny it, did not offer an explanation either, but that one word brought a chill up her spine.

It rendered her speechless, staring at him, hoping he would say more or add that he was merely jesting. It did not happen. Keeping her gaze, his jaw set tight, he added, "And that's why our little charade has to be perfect so we can go through with the wedding and you live your life away from me."