A Lily Among Thorns by Rose Lerner

between is locked, which defeats my first guess.”
    “Oh, I would only leave that door unlocked for someone I
really
trusted, like you,” Serena said poisonously. “Solomon is here on business. I’m recovering a family heirloom for him.”
    “What sort of heirloom?”
    “A pair of ruby earrings. A bit of doggerel has made them indispensable to family weddings and they’re needed rather urgently.”
    Solomon flushed at her dismissive tone. Admittedly, that was just how he had described it to her, but it still stung.
    “What sort of doggerel?”
    Solomon’s embarrassment increased as she recited it.
    “And they have gone missing?” the marquis said through his laughter. “How convenient for you—Monsieur Hundred-and-Twenty-Five-Pounds’ wedding is delayed, and he stays here with you while you search. Where have you hidden them, I should like to know?”
    To Solomon’s surprise, Serena didn’t seem to take offense. “It’s his sister’s wedding, you clunch. They were stolen by a highwayman on the road to Shropshire last week.”
    “Then once again I ask, why is he in
my
room? I know you have always had a romantic fancy about that boy, but—” The marquis broke off with a laugh. Solomon could imagine Serena’s glare. “My apologies.
Bien sûr
, you have never had a romantic fancy in your life. But I thought our friendship was stronger than that.”
    “I was stupid enough to think so, too, before you threatened to confiscate my rightful property,” she said bitterly. “You of all people ought to be ashamed, using the law’s injustice to further yourself. Lord knows you’ve committed hanging offenses enough, even setting aside your activities for the French crown.”
    There was a brief silence. “You would not have me hanged for that.”
    “No, I wouldn’t. But you would forge marriage lines to take away my right to own property. Now I find that ironic, don’t you?”
    “I am truly sorry,
sirène
. It is vile. You ought to take my offer to buy you out.”
    “Get out of my room, René,” Serena said wearily. A few seconds later, the hall door shut quietly.
    So. Apparently the ties of old friendship were too strong to be all loosed at once. Solomon sighed. He had been a little shocked at her ruthlessness, earlier, though her shock and misery had been plain enough beneath it. But now he had heard them talking familiarly together—even if it was about
him
—he understood how well they had known each other, and how hard the betrayal must have hit.
    Solomon felt abruptly guilty. In the midst of her first furious hurt, he had experienced nothing but relief. Relief that she wasn’t really married, as he’d believed for one brief but surprisingly awful moment. He was glad Serena didn’t know that.
    He knocked on the connecting door. “Yes?” she called.
    “Let me in.”
    After a few moments of silence, she turned the key and opened the door. She was still fully dressed, though it was past midnight; there were ink stains on her fingers. A woman of business, indeed. Solomon felt inexplicably pleased. “Are you all right?”
    She stared at him. “You knocked on my door after midnight to ask after my health?”
    They both knew he hadn’t meant her health. “Well,” he said mildly, “I was awakened by people talking about me loudly in the next room.”
    She froze. “René doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You know how the French are.”
    He blinked. “I do?”
    “Full of romantic notions about everything.”
    God, she was impossible. He came to see how she did, even after she’d laughed at him behind his back, and still her first priority was to show she’d never once thought fondly of him. His eyes narrowed. “Since finding my family heirloom is apparently so trivial, perhaps I ought to ask for something extra in return for my help with Sacreval.”
    Serena’s brows drew together. She had the most adorable frown. And she’d kill him if she knew he was thinking that. “Don’t