Page 74 of A Courtship of Conspiracies
Kate’s calm demeanor had returned, but the faint tightness around her mouth remained. “Then the twenty-second is no longer the danger?”
“Not on its own,” Westmarch said. “But if they learn their opportunity has narrowed, they may move faster elsewhere.” No one spoke for a moment.
“Barrington asked whether he ought to cancel the charity ball when I apprised him of a possible threat,” Westmarch continued. “I advised against it. To cancel now might warn the Circle that we have learned too much and drive them toward some other opportunity we cannot anticipate or prepare for. Barrington has agreed to restrict certain doors, keep the most likely targets away from isolated rooms, and prevent any last-minute changes among the servants. Publicly, however, the evening will proceed as planned.”
A tense silence settled over the room as Westmarch shared sparse details about the ball. The target was still unknown. Hundreds of guests would be present, along with servants moving through the house and grounds. Their small party was too few to watch every corner, every corridor, every movement.
James had faced deadly stakes before, and so had several of the others, but never like this. Never together. Never with so many lives depending on what they did next.
If they failed, someone would die before a ballroom full of witnesses, and the Circle would have exactly what they wanted: blood, panic, and the power to turn both toward their own ends.
Westmarch set their objectives in stark order. First, identify the assassin before he or she could strike. Second, protect the most likely targets without alarming the guests. Last, if possible, identify and seize any members of the Arcadian Circle reckless enough to show themselves.
From his place near the door, Alex spoke for the first time. “Put me outside. If anything goes wrong inside, someone will try to flee. I would rather be waiting for them when they do.”
Westmarch gave a short nod.
From there, the rest of the arrangements were settled according to each person’s strengths. Westmarch and William would remain near the most likely targets and act as a final safeguard. William accepted the charge with his customary calm.
Hugh and Nicholas would draw upon their wide connections, mixing with the crowd to gather information. Nicholas had a way of seeing things that others often overlooked. Hugh shifted in the armchair, clearly disliking the limits of his injury, but accepted his commission without complaint.
James and Kate would attend as ordinary guests, moving through the ballroom together and watching for any sign of the Circle’s members.
The group devised a system to communicate with each other across the expansive ballroom, a handful of signals—small movements with fans, dropped handkerchiefs, adjusting cravats—that would pass unnoticed by anyone not watching for them.
“The Veil will be present,” Westmarch said. James welcomed the news. Stories of her skill had long circulated among Westmarch’s men. She was a shadow in silk or rags, able to slip through any crowd unseen and assume any mask.
William raised his head from the notes spread across the desk. “How will we know who she is?”
“If any of you can identify her,” Westmarch said, “then either she has grown careless or I have underestimated you.”
“There is one other man I want watched,” James said. “Lord Alverton.”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “Has he done something?”
“Nothing I can prove,” James said. “But he has shown too much interest in Kate, and his behavior has been . . . persistent.”
Nicholas, who had been leaning against the edge of the desk, lifted one brow. “Persistent in the romantic sense or the villainous one?”
“Enough of both that I do not intend to ignore him.”
The tension was evident on every face as they finished their discussion. “I know that what I ask of each of you may seem impossible,” Westmarch said, his voice carrying conviction. “But we cannot risk broadening our network beyond those already placed and trusted. The enemy may have infiltrated any organization that might offer aid.”
“So we will use what we have—the right people, in the right places, with the courage to act when the time comes.” He paused. “The Arcadian Circle has thrived for years in the shadows. It is time, my friends, for us to bring them into the light.”
In two days, they would all enter a nest of vipers. Westmarch would direct their efforts at the ball, but James would be facing danger beside the people he loved most. These were not merely agents or useful allies. They were his friends, and Kate was so much more than that.
He watched her now, admiring the quiet confidence she had shown while voicing her ideas, even after the fear of the day before. She belonged here in his world. Intheirworld. He still could not quite believe it. He would keep his promise not to cage her, but if danger came for Kate, he would meet it with everything he had.
The final two days before the ball passed in a blur. Jimmy brought no news. The decoded ledger and Henry’s list had revealed nothing helpful. Even Alverton had done nothing more suspicious than try to make an afternoon call to see Kate. There was not even a whisper on the street.
The only useful news came from Anthony. The man had heard nothing about the ball or the Arcadian Circle, but as James turned to leave the club, Anthony caught his sleeve.
“There is one more thing, my lord. A Bow Street Runner’s been asking after The Sentinel.”
James stilled. “Which Runner?”
“Wouldn’t give a name to anyone. Careful sort. Seemed more like a gentleman.”
