Olivia nodded, though a boulder seemed to have lodged in her throat and a knot tied in the pit of her stomach. She knew her parents loved her. She knew they meant well, and what was worse, she knew they were right. If she had any hope of ensnaring Bradshaw, acting—being—herself was not the way to do it.
Jarvis looked out the window. The weather was gray and foggy. The rain beat an even staccato against the roof. The storm was over, and now it was a perfect, fresh night for his mission. He rubbed his palms in anticipation.
Jarvis needed to check on the orphan house. He also needed to find the thugs who were hunting him before they found him. He needed to force them to confess why in the world they were hunting him down. And, more importantly, how they knew that he was one of the Shadows.
He would likely get in trouble with Erebus for not following orders, but Jarvis was not the hiding type. The problems weren’t likely to go away on their own. He needed to find them and make them go away.
His mind made up, Jarvis walked briskly to his room, shouting for his valet all the way there. Besides, if Erebus wanted him locked up, he would have to come and do it himself.
“Elkins, my Shadows’ attire, please,” Jarvis said as he started shedding his clothing.
His valet didn’t say anything, but his silence was the loudest disapproval of all.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jarvis said as his servant helped him don his black tunic and handed him the dark-gray breeches.
“Of course, my lord,” said Elkins, and Jarvis scoffed at the meek reply.
“You are thinking that my shoulder is not healed properly, that the danger of discovery has not passed, and that I’ll be lucky not to break my neck on the slippery roofs tonight,” Jarvis said as he took the stockings and sat on the chair to tug them over his legs. “You probably think me an idiot for not taking heed of the warnings.”
He peeked a look at his servant, but Elkins simply stood there with the slippers and baldric in his hands. Jarvis pulled on the black slippers and stood to accept the baldric.
Jarvis took his domino mask and put it over his eyes. Then he tied the dark handkerchief over his nose and bottom of his face. Next came his hat, the cloak, and black leather gloves.
This ritual of donning his Shadow attire was so practiced between him and his servant that he didn’t have to think twice about any of the actions. He glanced into the looking glass and smirked at his own reflection.Finally, I am free again.
As Elkins put out all the candles in his room and took the remaining one with him out to the hall, Jarvis opened his bedroom window and stared out into the dark. He could see no one.
Of course, there’d be no one in his garden, but some sixth sense told him something was amiss. As if the air was thinner somehow. He scoffed at the thought and carefully climbed down the trellis outside the window and landed softly on the ground. The moment he turned his back to the house, he realized what his sixth sense tried to tell him.
“Damn and blast,” he muttered to himself when a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out of the shadows.
There was a rustle in the tree a few feet away from the spot where Jarvis and the other Shadow were standing. Jarvis was certain an archer was placed there, waiting for Jarvis’s move. Well, Jarvis was neither stupid nor suicidal. He got the message: he was under guard. His house was his prison cell, and there was no use fighting because, try as he might, he wasn’t going to overpower two Shadows and come away unscathed.
He cursed under his breath and climbed back up the trellis to his bedchamber window. So much for blowing off steam, he thought darkly as he landed back on the floor of his room.
Olivia sat at her friend Lavinia’s house the next day. It was a tradition with her friends to have a nuncheon on Tuesdays. But their little group had thinned since Annalise was on a wedding journey with her husband, and Caroline had withdrawn to her late uncle’s country seat to mourn.
“It is awfully quiet without Annalise and Caroline’s chattering,” Olivia said, starting to feel uncomfortable with the silence. “Those ladies always had something to say.”
“I am sorry I am dull company,” Lavinia said apologetically as she stroked the fur of a black kitten on her nap. “I just don’t feel quite well.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—that’s not what I… Oh, Lord. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re boring company. It’s just that I am not good with small talk, and I never know what to say, and obviously, I said something wrong again.” Olivia grimaced.
“Well, I am usually a lot livelier than this. Let’s try to rectify the situation,” Lavinia said, smiling. “Tell me, do you plan to go to the Roth house party?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Oh!” Lavinia’s eyes lit up as she scooted closer to Olivia. The kitten on her lap perked up her ears but otherwise didn’t react to the change in position. “You seem very excited about the prospect. So is your suitor going too?”
“He is not my suitor—at least not yet—but I truly hope he is going. Otherwise, all my preparations are in vain.”
“Preparations?”
“Yes, I have been practicing dancing, singing, playing the pianoforte, wearing all the gowns you helped pick out for me, and walking without falling on my face, which is quite difficult in all those contraptions.”
Lavinia snickered. “It is not all that bad.”
“Easy for you to say. I can’t sit still even when I do not have my ribs squished.” Olivia heaved a sigh, picked up a cup of tea, and took a sip. “In any case, I asked Jarvis to find out whether my beau is coming to the house party. And if he isn’t, I asked Jarvis to convince him to go.”