Page 124 of Devil in Her Details

“Do you know Lady Lavinia Crowhurst?”

Lilly searched her mind. “I can’t say that I do.”

Ophelia nodded. “Well, apparently she had set her sights on your brother last year and her friend overheard you tell your brother not to marry her.”

Lilly’s eyes widened in shock. “I have no recollection of this.”

“Yes, well, it might be venomous waggery from Lady Lavinia’s friends if you ask me. But regardless, I heard that Lady Lavinia has an indiscreet relationship with the Marquess of Calvington . . .” Ophelia paused there. “Do you understand what I’m hinting at?”

“Revenge,” Lilly murmured. All this—Calvington being set on her tail—all of this was for . . . revenge? Revenge for a slight that she couldn’t even remember? By all rights, she ought to be furious. Stomping her feet. This woman was the reason for all her vexation. But strangely, all that filled her was sudden exhaustion.

She wished she were still in Brighton. She wished she were back with her panther. She hadn’t even had time to stroll along the beach. She’d love to do that with him.

“Thank you for telling me,” Lilly murmured. “I had no idea.”

“Yes, well, like I said, we scandalous ladies should stick together. She is here, by the by. So keep an eye out for any traps.”

If Calvington were still out and about, she’d have been worried. But he was still rotting in a dungeon or, if they had released him, licking his wounds. She wasn’t worried about him anymore. Merrick appeared at her side again, and she waved Ophelia off with a promise they’d get together for tea sometime.

“You don’t have to keep me company, Merrick. Go off and enjoy yourself.”

“How can that be?” he said with a grin. “I’m your chaperon.”

Lilly laughed. “You are most certainly the exact opposite of a chaperon. If it weren’t well-known our households were bosom friends, we’d have tongues wagging.”

He chuckled. “Would you care for a dance?”

“Yes, let’s,” Lilly said, and then stopped dead in her tracks, breath drawing harshly back into her throat.

“Lilly?”

She held up her hand, unable to give Merrick any attention right now, not sure if she was dreaming up things she wanted desperately. Because there, at the edge of the ballroom, half-swallowed by the shadow between two pillars, stood a figure. A couple blocked her sight for a moment, and Lilly blinked, brows knitting. But when they passed, there was nothing.

Gone.

Just an ordinary pillar with no shadow of any man.

Lilly gave her head a small shake. She was imagining things. “Sorry, I . . . I thought I saw someone I know. I must have been mistaken.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Merrick offered his arm good-naturedly. “Dance?”

The notes of a waltz struck up.

Lilly paused, her heart not having settled yet. A waltz. This early? Their hosts truly knew how to live on the margins of scandal. She let Merrick lead her into position. The duke was a good dancer, fortunately, for Lilly’s mind was everywhere but with the man waltzing her on the tempo of the music.

A shadow always seemed to be there, at the edge of her peripheral vision. But each time she looked, it resolved into someone else entirely, or nothing at all. She told herself firmly and repeatedly that this was what indecision and sulking did to a person.

One invented things.

Things one wanted.

Would she go mad before she could see her panther again?

“What’s wrong?” Merrick leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Do you wish to stop? If you’re not feeling well, I’ll escort you home.”

“No.” She forced her attention back to the dance. “I’m perfectly fine.” She didn’t want to give the gossip sheets another headline.

Merrick, to his credit, said nothing further. Though she sensed he didn’t believe her in the slightest. Thankfully, the dance didn’t last much longer. However, the moment they stepped from the dance floor, the screeching began.