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As lovely as Madame Sabine was, she wasn’t going to make me happy. If anything, swallowing my desire for Cora and forcing myself to do this with her would make me feel worse.

“The fact that I cannot do this tonight is not a reflection on you, Madame Sabine. Or your companions.”

She glanced down at her body and then back at me. “Oh, I know that.” We both shared a laugh that broke some of the tension.

The salon door opened, startling us both, and Duval appeared in the doorway with one hand covering his eyes.

“Your Grace,” he said. “Lord Chandler requires your immediate presence at the western quay.”

I glanced from Madame Sabine to Duval. There was something peculiar about the request, but nevertheless, I offered Madame Sabine my apologies and joined Duval in the corridor.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, closing the door behind me.

He shrugged. “Nothing, to my knowledge.”

“Then why did you barge in?”

“Well, Lord Severin informed the household you were not to be disturbed tonight. Which to me seemed like a compelling reason to do just that.”

His gold tooth flashed when he smiled.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “I owe you, Duval.”

“I know. I’ll add it to your growing tab.”

We began walking down the dark corridor, and I slipped each guard a coin and lifted my finger to my mouth. Duval ran a finger across his neck to ensure they understood the silent threat.

“You’ll make a fine captain one day, Duval,” I said, once we were well past the guards. “And Valemer will be all the better for having you.”

We reached the open gallery overlooking the eastern courtyard. Evening air moved through the arches, carrying the distant brine of the harbor and the faint clatter of carts. A breeze brought a faint scent trailing toward me. Clove and fig and her.

One breath of that familiar scent, and I was already growing hard. Nothing when I was surrounded by three naked women. But this, this had me more than on edge.

Staring across the courtyard, I saw Cora had left her window open, and I could see her nestled on the bed with her feet curled beneath her and a book open in her lap. The warm breeze stirred the loose strands of her red hair around her face.

Duval followed my attention. “Ah,” he said.

I raised a hand. “Do not.”

“I said nothing.”

“You said ‘ah’ smugly.”

“I say everything smugly,” Duval countered.

‘Pick a pretty girl’ was what Cora had said. But I didn’t want just any pretty girl. That much was clear. I wanted the woman who had run into a harbor without knowing how to swim. The woman who risked her life to tell me the truth.

I wanted Cora.

If anyone could unwind my gears, it would be her. If I went to her now and made this proposition, there could be no confusion.

Duval held out my jacket, but I waved him off. “Should I ask where you’re going?”

“To make an unconscionable proposal.”

“Those are my favorite kind of proposals,” he said. “Should I invent another crisis at the quay?”

“Not unless I fail to return by sunrise.”