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“It is quite a brilliant solution to both our problems.” She ruffled her feathers with satisfaction. “I require diversion. And you do not know the way to the manor or have any idea of the night’s itinerary.” She produced the piece of parchment with the Ball’s elegantly penned schedule. “I do. Moreover, I am willing to guide you through the forest.”
“That is very thoughtful of you, lady.” He cleared his throat. “But I have no wish to get you in trouble.”
“Good thing I enjoy making my own trouble.” She beamed at him.
Trusting her instincts, she turned and, picking up her skirts, headed unerringly toward Broadstone Hall—like most harpies, she possessed a superior sense of direction. With a slight beat of her wings, she hopped over a stump and glanced at the man standing frozen beside the vine-covered wall. “Come, Mister Essex. Your target lies this way.”
After a moment, she heard footsteps following.
He caught up to her as she rounded a pair of saplings and avoided a prickle bush—never fun to get thorns stuck in one’s wings. He let out an audible sigh, and then offered his arm.
“Sir.” Her lips twitched. “This is not a ballroom.”
“Oh, this is not for your benefit,” he said with a slight grin. “If I am to dance between the trees with a lady, I must assuage my conscience by pretending to be a gentleman about it.”
She snorted and looped her arm through his. “You wish me to save you from tripping over branches?”
“That too,” he said in mock seriousness.
“I do believe I shall enjoy this adventure, Mister Essex,” she said.
“I fear I might as well.” He chuckled, and then sent her one of his unreadable glances. “As we are going to do mischief’s work together, would it be too forward of me to invite you to call me Theo?”
“Not at all.” She flashed him a grin. “I prefer to be on a first name basis with my co-conspirators.”
“Excellent,” he said.
“Please call me Enid,” she said. “It’s less of a mouthful to shout when fleeing.”
“As you wish,” he said, a thread of amusement tugging on the otherwise serious words.
As they wove through the dense forest, curving around trees and ducking beneath branches, she was once again reminded of Theo’s strength. His modest appearance belied a wiry frame, and with their arms locked and her hand upon his forearm, she was perfectly positioned to admire the hard, corded muscles beneath her touch.
She let him lift her over a patch of nettles and spun on her toes upon landing, turning the action into a dance. How remarkable that she’d found her most enjoyable dance of the night in the forest.
“So, Theo—” She glanced at him. “—do you often spy on your sister?”
His lips tightened at the corners. “You will likely not credit it, but no. I find I’m only compelled to spy, as you call it, when I’m surprised by the inability to escort her to a ball.”
Does he dislike monsters after all?
Enid hated the sense of disappointment that threatened to crush her at the thought. He’d seemed so easy with her, so human. She clicked her tongue and searched his face. “Not a fan of the Ball?”
“Not a fan of my sister’s hand being forced,” he snapped, and his arm flexed beneath her fingers.
“It has nothing to do with the monsters in attendance?” she prodded.
“No.” His tone was hard, and the harsh angles of his jaw could have cut stone. “Our father forced her. I am determined that she has someone watching out for whatshewants.”
How utterly wonderful.
Enid and her sister had only had each other when their parents had passed, and too often their needs had been buried beneath the opinions and wants of the uncle charged with their care. It was technically possible that Theo Essex was imposing his views on his sister, but Enid found she couldn’t quite credit it.
He struck her as too honorable for such petty foolery.
“I am very glad I happened upon you, Theo.” She hopped into the air and spun around him. Landing, she smiled up at him. “And even more glad to be of service to your sister.”
“I…” He drew in a breath. “Thank you.”
