Sleeping Engagement

VII. Departure

Cole's jaw tightened and he looked around the empty corridor.

"I already compromised many things for you, my lord," Edmund said when Cole did not reply. "You should keep your promise."

"Any sacrifice you make would also reflect upon me," he said. "Was it not you who brought me into this mess?"

"What I brought you is aid to your cause. It was you who brought yourself into this mess," the young man said. "With or without my help, you are still a suspect to the murder."

"Keep your voice down," he snapped. "Go home," he said to Edmund. "No one could see us together again. The last thing I would want is a nosy witness."

"But—"

"You delivered what you wanted to say in private. Be loyal to our plans and I shall keep my promise."

Edmund looked at him with uncertainty. "Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"I do not wish for another death, my lord."

"None shall happen if you do what I say and go back to Willowfair."

Edmund gave a curt nod. "Be wary. The League has eyes and ears everywhere."

"They are the least of our concern."

"But they can be a hindrance to your cause."

He walked past Edmund Trilby and stopped, a frown on his face. "Why did Margaret Everard ask for your name?"

Edmund shook his head. "I don't know, but I believe she deliberately sought me out."

Cole's jaw tightened.

"You must not forget what I told you. They have placed someone to watch your every move."

Nodding, Cole muttered, "Thank you for the caution, but I know what I'm doing. And you being here is only causing us both harm. Go home, Edmund. I mean it."

Cole swiftly strode away. He had to be careful from now on. He was the League's leading suspect to the murder and they had every reason to believe so.

***

Mayhap she had been thinking too much of Cole Devitt that fate had led him to find her in the garden on the day the guests were departing the Theobald estate. Or mayhap he had been seeking her out, she thought as he strode through the garden, his steps purposeful.

Forcing a smile on her lips, Margaret watched his flat, unreadable face.

He had always had a mysterious side, one of the many things that drew her to him. But it was not the same as the empty look she was seeing now. The first night they met in that ball while she was eighteen and he was six-and-twenty, Cole Devitt's eyes were filled with naught but mischievousness and wonder. His lips curved into a secretive smile and he easily laughed.

Their courtship started that night when she asked if he intended to teach her to dance. It took three days for them to discover that he was Benedict's best friend. Her brother was never one to talk about his friends, particularly in the presence of Margaret and the much younger Ysabella and Emma.

"Would you ever tell me your name?" he had asked her that night, his eyes looking into hers as though he was studying a rare piece of gem.

"I'm not one to give away my identity to anyone so easily," had been her reply.

"How do I address you then?"

Her eyes had been filled with mischief as she answered, "Meg. Call me Meg."