“Well now,” he murmured to himself. “Isn’t that interesting.”
A few clicks confirmed that the GPS tracker he’d had planted in Hugh Argent’s car hadn’t moved for several hours. A few more clicks revealed further information about their final destination. Some very interesting information.
He idly turned his mirrored sunglasses over in his hands, thinking. A slow smile spread over his face.
Picking up his cellphone, he dialed his personal assistant, the one that he used for his legitimate work under a squeaky clean fake identity. He’d talk to his other assistants later.
But first…he needed tickets to a ball.
Chapter 17
The problem with being whisked away to a life of luxury in a fabulous ancient mansion was, Ivy had decided, the bathrooms. Namely, how long they took to reach. Even with Hugh showing her the way, the nearest one to her bedroom was a good five minute hike.
On her own, in the middle of the night, it was a lot longer than that. And now she’d taken a wrong turn on the way back, and had been wandering in increasingly confused circles for what felt like hours. She was pretty sure she’d somehow ended up in an entirely different wing of the house, and possibly on a different floor too.
“Crud,” she muttered to herself, swinging her cellphone flashlight around. She’d definitely already walked through this portrait gallery before. Generations of disapproving unicorns glowered down at her from the oak-paneled walls.
Next time I’m bringing a ball of string. Or possibly a trail of breadcrumbs.
Picking what was hopefully a new direction, she set off again. The house was silent around her, her every breath echoing in her own ears. She half-expected a headless ghost to come drifting down the corridor any second.
I wish one would. Then I could ask it for directions.
She turned a corner, and her heart lifted at the sight of a faint yellow glow, shining like a lighthouse beacon from a half-open door. Despite the late hour, someone was still up.
“Uh, hello?” she called as she approached. “Sorry, I’m a guest. I got lost. Could you tell me-“
She froze in the doorway, the words dying in her throat.
A man sat reading in a wingback armchair, his hair gleaming pure silver in the w
arm light of the single lamp. She knew those pale blue eyes, those finely-modeled features, those cheekbones sharp enough to cut. For a breathtaking second, it was like she looked through time, and saw Hugh as he would be decades from now.
But then the man turned his head, meeting her eyes, and he was nothing like Hugh at all.
It was like the difference between a living animal and one stuffed and mounted behind glass. The same general shape, the same colors, but stiff and frozen in a parody of itself. The coldness that she’d occasionally seen in Hugh’s eyes was nothing compared to the glacier-thick ice in this man’s gaze.
“You are the wyvern,” said Hugh’s father, the Earl of Hereford.
Venom slicked her palms, seeping into her gloves. Her inner beast was snarling, recoiling in fear and revulsion, every spine bristling. Every instinct screamed at her that this man was wrong, wrong, a black void where a person should be.
Caught between fight and flight reflexes, Ivy could only freeze as Hugh’s father rose. His empty stare swept over her, examining her from head to toe. His expression never changed, but he nodded slightly, as if he’d come to a decision.
“I will pay you ten thousand pounds to sleep with my son,” the Earl said.
Sheer outrage broke her paralysis. “You think I’d betray Hugh for money?”
“Land, then. Or position.” The Earl turned away as if bored, absently running a long finger over the leather-bound books lining the wall. “What is it that you want?”
“I’ll tell you what I want.” Ivy took a step toward him, clenching her gloved fists. “I want you to back off and leave Hugh alone. He’s told me about you. I’m not some pawn you can use against him, you jealous bastard. Mess with him again and you’ll be messing with me. And I’m not nearly as good a person as he is.”
“Ah.” The Earl’s thin lips curved slightly in a humorless smile. “So you love him.”
“Yeah, I do,” Ivy spat. “And I won’t ever let you hurt him.”
The Earl’s shoulders rose and fell in a long sigh. “I am not trying to hurt him. I am trying to save him.”
“Well, you sure have a funny way of going about it.”