The pale young girl bobbed her head in a near fit. “Yes, miss. She was h-heading down the other h-hall.”

Jasper’s private rooms were in that direction.

“Where?” Annabel grabbed the girl’s shoulders and shook her. “Explain.”

“She b-begged me not to tell. Sh-she said it was a surprise.”

Blast. “Pack everything but our night clothes and traveling dresses for tomorrow. Miss Spencer and I are leaving in the morning.”

Annabel raced from the room and across the landing. The candles sputtered in their holders, casting irregular shadows across the dark-paneled walls. The thick carpet muffled her steps.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, making it possible to see the glow under the door at the end of the hall. She lengthened her stride and pushed the door open with a whoosh that ended with a bang as the latch hit the wall.

Elizabeth stopped wrestling with the ribbons at her back and spun with a shriek.

“Get out of this room.” Anger and fear added an unfamiliar gravel to Annabel’s voice. “Now.”

“I will not.” Elizabeth tilted her chin at a stubborn angle. “Charlotte has done nothing but tease me for weeks, that I was too young for Ramsbury to notice me, that he only invited me so you would come. She said he wouldn’t even kiss me if he found me naked and waiting. I’m going to prove her wrong.”

Annabel couldn’t believe her ears. “You are going to ruin yourself to spite Charlotte Bainbridge?” She gathered Elizabeth’s slippers and shoved them into her hands. “Are you daft?”

She pushed Elizabeth’s shoulder, urging her to the door. The girl dug in her heels.

“You just want Ramsbury for yourself. You’ve spent the last two weeks turning his head, teasing him, and keeping him from us when we’re the ones he’s meant to choose from. He will never choose you for anything honorable.” Her eyes widened. “Is that why you’re here?”

“You foolish, foolish girl. I am here to keep you from making the worst mistake of your life.” Annabel shook Elizabeth until her curls trembled. “Do you really want to marry a man whom you’ve trapped? To have every woman in Polite Society either cut you directly or whisper behind your back? To walk into a ballroom and wonder how many of the women in attendance have warmed your husband’s bed?”

“They wouldn’t dare cut a marchioness.” Despite the tears in Elizabeth’s eyes, her mouth was still set in a stubborn line. “I would be—”

“A laughingstock? Married to a man who only takes you to bed because he needs a legitimate heir and exiles you to the country once you’ve given him one? Who spends his nights away from home because he doesn’t love you, will never love you because of what you forced him to do?”

Tears slid down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she shook her head, either in agreement or denial. Annabel wasn’t certain of which, but she took advantage of the weakness and shoved the girl toward the door. “Go to our room and have Ruth get you ready for bed. Wash your face. We’re leaving as soon as it’s light enough to travel.”

“No. There’s not a reason—”

Charlotte would make sure this tale was well known before breakfast began, and Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to fight it. “There is every reason, Elizabeth. Go to our room now. You were never here.”

The girl was halfway out the door when her hand flew to her ear. “I’ve lost an earring, Annabel.” Her eyes widened. “I don’t know where.”

She’d been wearing them both in the ballroom, and Annabel hadn’t seen one sparkling on the stairs or in the hallway. Granted, she hadn’t been looking. But now she’d have to search this room to make certain it wasn’t left behind.

“Go. I’ll find it.”

Annabel closed the door and dropped to her knees, sweeping her hands over the carpet and looking for the sparkle in the firelight. She found nothing where Elizabeth had been standing, but flattened herself to look under the bed to be certain the diamond hadn’t rolled there.

A dark box caught her eye. Her heart thumping in her ears, Annabel pulled it to her and out into the light. The metal was warm against her fingers, and the latch gave easily.

Guilt spread over her skin like ice on the Thames as she lifted a letter from the top of the papers and coins—francs and gold.

Dearest Jasper, Though I am nervous of my role in Cardiff, I will do as you ask and hope it makes a difference. Please tell Kit that his work has reaped rewards in Spain, and I look forward to sharing the tales with him. I hope your mission in London is bearing the fruit you hoped for. With all the love I can spare, Claudette

It was just enough of a love letter to make reading it embarrassing, and it contained enough hints of work and missions to be concerning.

Annabel rifled through the box. Hand-drawn maps were well creased and heavily marked with notes and runes. Were they really spies?

Tears clouded her vision. She would have wagered money she didn’t have that Jasper was more bored than treasonous. She would have lost everything because of a respectable title and a winning smile.

Just like her father had done.

“Kit, I’m not going to get lost going to my room,” Jasper grumbled. His voice was muted by the door and the long hallway.

“Lost is the last thing that worries me,” Yarwood grumbled back.

Annabel dithered, staring at the letter and the map, knowing they might be the proof Spencer needed, and that Jasper would go to ground if he found them missing. He’d also know who took them. There would be no hiding from him.

The floorboards creaked under their steps, growing louder with each word.

She put everything back the way she’d found them, shoved the box under the bed, and stood facing the door. She locked her trembling knees and straightened her spine as the latch turned.

“Given yesterday’s incident, you should have locked your door,” Yarwood said.

“I’m not locking my door in my own house.” Jasper’s voice grew clearer as the door opened. He glanced inside, and the eye she could see widened. “And I don’t need you anymore tonight.” He looked back for a moment, giving her a glimpse of his tense jaw and the way his hair curled around his ear. “Thank you, Kit.”

Annabel held her breath as he entered the room and the latch snicked behind him.

“There’s a rumor downstairs that a young lady is waiting in my room.” He stepped forward. “You aren’t who I expected.”

Annabel stepped back and gulped as the back of her knees struck the mattress. “I heard the same rumor.” She cleared her throat to rid it of the tremor. “I came to make sure Elizabeth wasn’t here.”

Jasper sipped his drink but kept his eyes on her. “That’s the only reason?”

Annabel refused to blink as she held his stare. Her neck ached from looking up at him. “What other reason would there be?”

He set the empty glass on the table near the door before stepping toward her. “Every other young lady in London wants something from me. Why would you be any different?”

He removed his tailcoat and loosened his cravat, his muscles moving under his shirt in a way that warmed her insides as much as the fire in the hearth warmed her skin. “Why are you undressing?” she asked.

A lazy smile spread across his face. “I always undress in my rooms, especially after an evening of being trussed up like a Christmas goose.” He removed his cuff links. “But you didn’t answer my question. What makes you different than any other lady in London?”

After two weeks of bantering and baiting, he’s learned nothing about me. He tormented me for nothing more than sport, and I’ve received nothing but empty words from a self-important rogue who believes himself special because of a title. Annabel shoved her disappointment and anger aside. Neither would do her any good. They never had. “I’m smart enough to know better.”

“Are you?” He loomed over her now, one hand on the bedpost, close enough she could see the shadowy stubble on his jaw and smell the spice of his cologne. For a man who’d had a drink in his hand all evening, his eyes were unusually sharp. His stare pricked her skin.

Or her conscience.

“I’m taking Elizabeth back to London tomorrow.” She stepped past him and walked to the door, willing herself not to run.

“That would be wise,” he murmured.