Page 97 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“That bodes extremely well for our future.” Nick held out his hand and helped me to my feet. “It’s decided, then. We wait until after the ball, and then we’ll bring Iris Scott-Holland back from the dead.”

“There’s going to be a terrible scandal.” I bit my lip. “What will your grandmother say?”

“About trading Serena Fox – daughter of a factory owner – for Lady Iris Scott-Holland? I should think she’ll throw a party, the terrible old snob,” he said fondly.

I was less sure about that, but we already had enough problems to be getting on with.

I straightened my shoulders. “All right,” I said. “We concentrate on the ball. After that … well, after that I suppose we’ll see how the cards fall.”

I looked up and noticed Nick grinning at me.

“If I didn’t know better,” I said suspiciously, “I’d think you were enjoying this.”

He shrugged languidly, a spark in his eye. “I was simply thinking that life with you will never be dull.”

“I actually plan to be extremely dull when all this is over,” I said primly.

“Better and better,” Nick replied promptly. “My grandmother’s always trying to get me to give up my rackety ways. Won’t she be thrilled to hear about this very dull life you have planned for us?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Despite the revelations I was keeping hidden, I felt strangely like a weight had been lifted. Knowing that I had been right, that my instincts had not failed me completely, was a relief. Ever since I had arrived at Holland Hall I had felt myself unbalanced by each new twist and turn that had been exposed. Now, I finally felt as if I were on solid ground again.

Thanks to Helena’s intense programme of activities, and her determination to keep Stefan and me apart, two days had passed and I had not had to suffer too much time with him. I had settled for casting him the occasional demure glance, and he would wink cheerfully. Once, he had managed to take my hand.

“Not long now, my love,” he’d whispered. “On Friday we shall announce our news to the world and then we will have plenty of time to be alone together.”

“I can’t wait,” I lied, through smiling lips.

Now, the night before the ball, I found myself in the drawing room locked in a game of chess with Nick. Stefan was talking to Helena, and Jack and Sophia were chatting in the corner with Lady Bell and the dowager countess.

Stefan was a lot less bothered by Nick and I spending time together since our engagement. There was a smugness in the way he looked at his friend Earl Wynter that made me want to scratch at his eyes. He thought he’d won, and that Nick just didn’t know it yet.

As if he ever stood a chance.

Nick’s eyes held mine over the top of the chessboard. His gaze dropped, his brow furrowed in concentration. He scraped a hand across his jaw.

I’d never been that interested in chess before, but now I thought it might be the most fascinating thing in the world.

His hands moved towards the pieces, long, elegant fingers scooping up one of his pawns, moving it with confidence. I wanted to knock all the pieces off the board and clamber over it into his lap.

Something of that must have shown in my face because his eyes lit with something wicked, and he touched the collar of his shirt, as though it were suddenly too tight.

“Concentrate,” he said sternly.

In the background, Agatha was singing and playing the piano. I forced myself to return my attention to the game – I might be head over heels for the man, but I still wanted to win.

Several moves later I glanced over to the corner of the room where Lady Wynter, Sophia and her mother were being entertained by Jack. He was making Lady Bell laugh, her pinched face softened. Sophia was looking at him as if she was dying of thirst and he was a glass of water.

“Your friend Jack,” I said in a low voice. “He’s a good man, isn’t he?”

“He’s a very good man. One of the best, in fact.”

I nodded. “I thought so, but I’ve been getting it wrong lately.”

“I shall try not to take that personally.” He moved his rook.

“I didn’t mean you,” I said. My eyes strayed towards Stefan, who was having his ear bent by Helena. The smile he sent me was sweet, a sugared little lie, a boiled sweet laced with arsenic. I looked back at Nick. “I know that you’re a good man.”