couldn’t tell him that. She didn’t like admitting it to herself, let alone him. Ever since she’d met him, all her ideas of what she wanted for herself had burned away like morning mist. Once, she’d wanted to eventually become a housekeeper in a grand house. But it had always been a struggle for her to hold her tongue when she’d run up against the walls that kept good people separated from what they truly deserved. When a male servant had privileges a female servant didn’t. Or the masters treated the help with cruelty and disdain.
She hadn’t been able to keep silent when a terrible wrong had been done, though. And it had felt exactly right to let her voice out. Finally.
After that, she’d become a shopgirl, with her family thinking she’d moved up in the world. Ada thought she’d join the ranks of young women who worked until they married, or perhaps continue to work in a shop owned by her husband.
But she’d gone silent again. And she’d felt herself choking—until she’d taken this job at Covington Hall.
Unaware of her thoughts, the tension in his expression eased. Slightly. “I’m searching the ruin tonight. After everyone goes to bed.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said at once. She saw that he was about to object, so she added hastily, “It’s got to be a two-person job. Someone needs to act as lookout in case any of the groundskeepers are on patrol, or if Larkfield and that damned cane of his show up. We already know the Larkfields’ titles don’t mean a thing when it comes to genteel behavior.”
“I don’t like it,” he muttered.
“If they’d partnered you with any other Nemesis agent, you’d expect them to go with you. In this case, I’m your partner.”
After a brief but tense pause, he nodded, though grudgingly.
“Where should we meet?” she asked. “You’re all the way by the stables, and I’m in the attic. I could try to sneak out—”
“Too risky. Meet me at the top of the servants’ stairs in the attic at midnight.”
She looked at him in bafflement. “How are you going to get back in the house without anyone seeing you? And how are we supposed to get out again?”
He flashed her his mischievous grin. “Leave all that to me. I’ve learned quite a few tricks since last we met.”
She didn’t doubt that at all.
* * *
Ada waited on the landing of the servants’ stairs, trying not to make the floorboards creak with her nervous shifting from foot to foot. Getting dressed in the dark while trying not to wake her roommates had been an exercise in careful, slow movement.
There was a window on the landing, letting in the ashen glow of a mist-shrouded moon. She stared at it, willing herself to be calm. But when a silhouette appeared in the window, blocking the moon, she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from yelping in fright.
The window slid open. A blast of cold air gusted in. Ada stepped back, alarmed, as a figure climbed through the window, like some predatory animal or mythical creature. The kind of being that spirited young maidens from their beds to live forever in an underworld kingdom.
Her breath left her in a rush when she saw that the figure was Michael. He stepped noiselessly onto the landing, stretching to his full height. Like her, he was dressed in warm, dark layers. A knit cap covered his head, and he wore fingerless gloves. He looked shadowed and dangerous. Good God, had he climbed up here?
“We’re three stories up,” she whispered in disbelief.
“Covington Hall’s got a brick facade. Makes for easier going.”
“I’d think the door would make for easier going.”
“My way’s safer. Less chance of anyone spotting me.”
She shook her head. It didn’t seem likely that before he’d joined Nemesis, he knew much about climbing up the sides of buildings. Clearly, their training was quite thorough.
She glanced down the hall, making sure no one was out and could see them. To other servants, it might look as though
She hadn’t been able to keep silent when a terrible wrong had been done, though. And it had felt exactly right to let her voice out. Finally.
After that, she’d become a shopgirl, with her family thinking she’d moved up in the world. Ada thought she’d join the ranks of young women who worked until they married, or perhaps continue to work in a shop owned by her husband.
But she’d gone silent again. And she’d felt herself choking—until she’d taken this job at Covington Hall.
Unaware of her thoughts, the tension in his expression eased. Slightly. “I’m searching the ruin tonight. After everyone goes to bed.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said at once. She saw that he was about to object, so she added hastily, “It’s got to be a two-person job. Someone needs to act as lookout in case any of the groundskeepers are on patrol, or if Larkfield and that damned cane of his show up. We already know the Larkfields’ titles don’t mean a thing when it comes to genteel behavior.”
“I don’t like it,” he muttered.
“If they’d partnered you with any other Nemesis agent, you’d expect them to go with you. In this case, I’m your partner.”
After a brief but tense pause, he nodded, though grudgingly.
“Where should we meet?” she asked. “You’re all the way by the stables, and I’m in the attic. I could try to sneak out—”
“Too risky. Meet me at the top of the servants’ stairs in the attic at midnight.”
She looked at him in bafflement. “How are you going to get back in the house without anyone seeing you? And how are we supposed to get out again?”
He flashed her his mischievous grin. “Leave all that to me. I’ve learned quite a few tricks since last we met.”
She didn’t doubt that at all.
* * *
Ada waited on the landing of the servants’ stairs, trying not to make the floorboards creak with her nervous shifting from foot to foot. Getting dressed in the dark while trying not to wake her roommates had been an exercise in careful, slow movement.
There was a window on the landing, letting in the ashen glow of a mist-shrouded moon. She stared at it, willing herself to be calm. But when a silhouette appeared in the window, blocking the moon, she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from yelping in fright.
The window slid open. A blast of cold air gusted in. Ada stepped back, alarmed, as a figure climbed through the window, like some predatory animal or mythical creature. The kind of being that spirited young maidens from their beds to live forever in an underworld kingdom.
Her breath left her in a rush when she saw that the figure was Michael. He stepped noiselessly onto the landing, stretching to his full height. Like her, he was dressed in warm, dark layers. A knit cap covered his head, and he wore fingerless gloves. He looked shadowed and dangerous. Good God, had he climbed up here?
“We’re three stories up,” she whispered in disbelief.
“Covington Hall’s got a brick facade. Makes for easier going.”
“I’d think the door would make for easier going.”
“My way’s safer. Less chance of anyone spotting me.”
She shook her head. It didn’t seem likely that before he’d joined Nemesis, he knew much about climbing up the sides of buildings. Clearly, their training was quite thorough.
She glanced down the hall, making sure no one was out and could see them. To other servants, it might look as though
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