Page 21 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“Wonderful,” I said, forcing my mind back to the matter at hand. “So, your grandmother is a snob who is predisposed to dislike me.”

Nicholas looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t be so sure. She’s been trying to get me married off for some time – desperate to secure the family line. She may be happy that you’ve come along, even if you are a shopkeeper’s daughter.”

“I thought that my imaginary father was a factory owner, on the brink of receiving a knighthood?”

He smiled faintly. “To my grandmother I’m afraid that amounts to much the same thing. We need her to act as your chaperone in any case – we must observe all the proprieties if we’re to pass you off as an eligible young lady.”

It really did seem like he had it all worked out.

I would be going home. Home. As well as a chance to prevent Agatha’s advantageous match, to get my revenge on Helena, another, terrifying opportunity presented itself. Being back at Holland Hall meant that I would finally be able to investigate my father’s death myself.

My heart raced faster. My investigators had failed – but if I was actually there, at the scene of the crime… Surely Helena must have left evidence behind of what she did to my father. Even all these years later, some clue must remain.

The orchestra rose to a crescendo, and Nicholas spun me one final time.

The dance was over. Nicholas tucked my hand in his arm again and guided me from the floor. He rested his other hand on top of mine.

“Do you think he noticed?” I whispered.

“Why not ask Stefan yourself?” he said, glancing over my shoulder. “So predictable.”

I turned to see the prince behind me, his easy smile and cheerful manner utterly at odds with the man still holding on to my hand.

“Nick!” Stefan exclaimed in his deep, rich voice. “You devil! You’ve stolen a march on me with the most lovely lady in the room.” He turned to me with a shallow bow. “I have been hoping we would run into each other again.” His words to me were pitched lower, his tone more intimate.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Stefan. The lady and I are old friends.” Nicholas’s voice was lazy, but I noticed that he kept hold of my arm.

Stefan frowned. “Is that so?”

Nicholas Wynter had sprung an invented history on me in front of Helena; now, I decided it was only fair that I get my own back. “Lord Wynter and I have quite the history,” I said. “After all, a girl never forgets the first boy she pushes into a pond.”

I turned a bland gaze on Nicholas, waiting to see how he responded to being thrown into a lie with no warning.

“Ah,” he murmured, not missing a beat, “and I hadn’t done a thing to deserve it. After all, you were the one who ate all my plum cake.”

“And then you threw Miss Prudence in the pond,” I retorted.

Stefan looked startled and Nicholas choked.

“Yes, Miss Prudence … your … doll.” His voice quivered for a moment. “Was that her name?”

“You know perfectly well it was,” I said. “But at least I had my revenge.”

“You did,” Nicholas agreed serenely. “Until the incident with the hedgehog … but” – he lifted a finger as if to cut me off – “that is a story for another time.”

Stefan’s eyes moved between us like we were playing tennis.

“How fortunate that you should have such a colourful shared history,” Stefan said. “But then, perhaps, Wynter, you can tell me the identity of your friend. She is being very secretive, I must say.”

Nicholas shrugged. “I think that is up to the lady herself. Perhaps she prefers to wait for the unmasking at midnight.”

“She does,” I said. “And it is only a few minutes away anyway.”

“Then may I steal you away for another dance in the meantime?” Stefan asked.

“You may not,” I said smiling sweetly, “but you may take me in search of refreshment. It is really stifling in here.”

Stefan’s eyes lit up. “Even better,” he said. “I can show off my gallantry, and you can tell me all the scandalous stories of my friend’s past.”