Page 112 of A Lady’s Guide to Witchcraft

Someone stepped out of the crowd, familiar, proper all the way down to his museum shoes, even now. Ethan sighed, annoyed at the interruption.

“Lord Coventry,” Briar greeted him pleasantly, propping herself up on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Miss Foxglove.”

At least Aidan had always shown her respect. Ethan might not eviscerate him after all. As long as he got out of the bloody way. He did not have long with Briar, and like hell was he going to spend any of it making conversation with an earl.

“You got the amulet to Holdfast. Well done.”

“We did, thank you,” she said.

“Did you leave it with the Iron Witches?”

Briar winced. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing left of it.”

Aidan closed his eyes briefly. “I was afraid of that.”

“It’s not Petal’s fault.”

“Pardon me, but it is.”

At least on that, he and Ethan agreed.

“Will you arrest her?” Briar’s sweet, throaty voice went hard. And then Ethan went hard. Immediately.

Aidan ran a hand over his face. “I do not command the Order, despite what Swansea here might think. I work for the museum. No artifact, no need for me to follow.”

“Oh, good.” Briar beamed at him. Ethan could feel it. “Then I won’t have to poison you.”

Aidan blinked.

This was interminable.

“Coventry?” Ethan snapped.

“Yes?”

“Bit busy,” he said. “Sod off.”

Aidan stepped back, lips twitching as he fully realized he had been conversing with an upside-down Briar. A curator’s focus could not be faulted, if nothing else.

As Ethan stalked away, Briar still over his shoulder, he heard Sorcha. “Are you smiling, Lord Coventry? Careful, you might hurt your pretty face. And I believe that’s my job.”