Neither of us ate much, we were both too nervous. I mostly pushed my food around with my fork, and Kiran ate a couple of mouthfuls of the thick stew and then proceeded to pace back and forth, going over the steps of the plan again.

“I’ve memorized it all now.” I broke off a hunk of bread and shoved it in my mouth, talking around it. “It’s not exactly complicated.” I leaned forward. “So, you’re going to be spotted intentionally just before you escape. You think that’s a good idea? Won’t he hunt you down?”

Kiran folded his arms over his chest. “It’s necessary so that you can get out of the building while Rook is pursuing me. And yes, he’ll hunt me. I’m not worried.” He glanced at his nails, feigning modesty. “I can vanish like smoke if need be.”

A million questions were still burning in me, one of them being about his sister. I was curious to know how she’d died. Had Rook killed her? But that was probably far too personal a question to ask him. Instead I settled on, “How did he know you were Lightfoot?”

“I told you, Rook has magic.” Kiran shrugged. “You’ve heard the saying ‘question not the ways of a magician?’”

“No.”

            He smirked. “Oh, that’s right. I shouldn’t have expected you to know it.”

            I glared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

            “Just that you don’t have as much education as I do.” His tone was light and mocking, and he leaned one shoulder against the bookshelf, giving me a wide, white grin. “You’re not to blame for that.”

            I was about to launch myself off the side of the bed at him, when I realized he’d completely distracted me from asking him further questions, or even answering the first one. I pushed my irritation down and stared at him evenly. “What did your sister have?”

            Kiran’s grin faded. “Scarlet fever,” he said reluctantly.

            For a moment I only stared at him, wishing I could ask what I really wanted to ask. Kiran seemed to guess what I was thinking, because he sighed and said, “She died the next month. Hit by a horse and cart in the middle of the market square.”

            My eyes widened. The market square in New England forbade carriages and motor cars, it was too jam-packed with stalls and vendors to leave room for anything else. “How…”

            Kiran’s face was blank. The only indication of his anger was the icy glitter in his blue eyes. “Nobody knows who the owner of the cart was. I searched for weeks. By all accounts…at least, those that were on the scene, said the cart and its owner seemed to just vanish.”

            My mouth was hanging open now, and I stuttered, “Do you think…he…”

            “Rook,” Kiran finished for me, nodding. “I think he has a sick sense of humor and delights in toying with people’s fates.”

            I curled my fingers around the fabric of the bed spread, feeling a pulse of anger in my breast, a taste of the pure rage that must be burning in Kiran. My voice was barely a whisper now. “If you had told me that story, all of it when you first met me…I would have helped you without question.”

            Kiran’s gaze shifted to my face, and there was a slight, sad smile on his lips. “I know that now.”

            The hackney cab (and it’s idiot driver) took us over great distances, it seemed all the way to the other end of London. Before we left, Kiran paid the man at the bar for our rooms and signed us out.

            Now my stomach was churning both in fright and anticipation. This was a dangerous game, but I was still looking forward to seeing the gambling house. To checking into a swanky hotel room and pretending to be a well-to-do fancy lady.

            Beside me, Kiran was reciting the plan for the hundredth time. “I’m to be your servant, so don’t forget that makes you a lady.” His brow creased suddenly. “Blast, I didn’t think to ask. Can you even take on the manner of one?”

            I scowled at him. “Of course I can. I’ve run into enough of the annoying little prisses. I know enough to copy their mannerisms.”

            He didn’t look convinced. “Show me.”

            I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Goodness, sir. I shall have my honor offended if you continue to insist upon proof of the matter.”

            Kiran’s jaw dropped, and I gave him a wide, triumphant grin. “Good enough for you?”

            “Uh, yes. That will do.”

            “That will do, will it? Oh jolly good. Lovely.” I mocked him, widening my eyes and fluttering my lashes outrageously at him.

            Kiran snorted. “Don’t overdo it, Cas.”

            “Not Cas,” I reminded him. “You’ve got to call me Miss now.” I rubbed my hands together gleefully. “Oh this will be fun!”

            Kiran muttered something to himself. No doubt it was unflattering, but before I had a chance to demand what he’d said the carriage gave another lurch and then ground to a halt.

            We both looked at one another with wide eyes, and Kiran breathed out a great gust of air and said, “Ready?”

            “I suppose I am.”

            Kiran waited for his driver to open the door, hopping down the stairs and turning back to help me down. This time it wasn’t just because of my wobbly shoes. I took his hand and descended the stair, darting a look around us to see if anyone was watching.

            The building we were parked in front of immediately distracted me, and I could feel my mouth gape open I stared up at it. The gambling house was at the center of a broad stone plaza, and it stretched up into the cold grey sky, at least ten stories high.

            The stones of the building were a rich sand color, and the windows were latticed and elegantly framed with gold. Briefly I wondered if it was real gold, then realized how foolish a thought it was.

            There was an arching sign over the entrance that proclaimed in scrolling gold script, “The Lucky Lady”, and I couldn’t help but grin a little at that.

            Well, Rook, your “lucky lady” has arrived.

            Kiran had loaded himself up with several boxes and bags from the roof of the carriage, since it had to look like I was bringing lots of luggage with me. I turned, realizing that he was standing there waiting for me.

            Right. I’m in charge now. Or at least, I have to appear to be.

            I couldn’t help myself. I shot him a wicked grin, turned for the door and sang out loudly, “Come along, Conrad. Don’t stand there staring all day like a slack-jawed fool, bring the parcels in.” I bit back a grin as I strode forward, passing under the doorway of the place, I could swear I felt “Conrad’s” glare burning between my shoulder blades.

            This was going to be way too much fun.

            The first stop was at the desk, where I demanded a room for the night in the haughtiest manner I could drum up. The man behind the desk, a waifish blonde thing with beady grey eyes, looked Kiran and I over. If he was shocked that a lady was checking in on her own, aside from one servant, he didn’t let on.

            “Very good, ma’am. Room twenty-three is available. With an attached bedroom for your man servant.”

            I narrowed my eyes at him. I was fairly certain that he was implying something with the “attached bedroom” since he hadn’t offered me two bedrooms, as you would a proper lady. But then again, I sure as hell wasn’t a proper lady.

            I gave him smile and said sweetly, “That would be lovely.”

            We exchanged a handful of silver for a room key and a pass for the gambling hall, and I turned abruptly, skirts rustling, and made my way to the elevators, hearing Kiran hurry after me. When we were safe in the elevator – and my stomach was doing back flips with the strange sensation. Kiran muttered that we would stow the baggage and then I should go straight down. He was to wait in the room and then go when I was working up a distraction.

            “Wait ten minutes,” I said firmly. “That’s all I’ll need. I’ll attract his attention by then. You’re sure he’ll be watching?”

            “He does little else,” Kiran said. “He is forever watching his floor, watching those that lose their money over and over. He enjoys people’s misery.”

            “Well then he won’t enjoy me,” I said.

            Kiran looked like he was about to make some reply to that, when the elevator doors swished open, revealing a couple of men standing together, obviously waiting to get on.

            They were finely dressed gentlemen, and both of them made surprised little bows to me as I swept out of the elevator. I gave them what I hoped was a friendly smile, and we exchanged murmured “Goodays” to one another.

            I swept away down the hallway, very aware that they were probably staring, and gossip would ensue once they got on the elevator. They had no way of knowing about the on suite, but I did appear to be a single woman alone in a gambling house, regardless of how classy the place was.

            “Already distracting people,” I muttered.

            “It’s not just that,” Kiran said softly. “You’re very…eye-catching in that dress.”

            My stride faltered, and by coincidence I found myself outside room twenty-three. I turned to look up Kiran and caught him still staring at me.

            “What an insolent thing to say for a servant,” I snapped, but I could feel myself flushing red.

            Kiran chewed on his lower lip for a moment, looking like he badly wanted to say something. He glanced both ways down the hall, saw there was no one and took the key from my hand, unlocking the door and shoving me inside.

            The door slammed behind us, and then Kiran was there, startlingly close, shoving me against the wall, one hand pressed over my throat with just enough pressure to make me gasp. He lowered his lips teasingly over mine, brushing his mouth against mine and then drawing back a little each time.

            “Is this insolent as well?”

            “Oh very. I should have you arrested.” My voice wavered, and my stomach sank when he pulled away.

            Kiran looked highly amused. “Don’t think you can have too much fun calling me ‘servant’, I’ll arrange for payback you know.”

            My shoulders slumped, and I let myself lean back against the wall again. “You won’t get the chance, since the plan means you’ll be running. You’ll have to get out of the city.”

            The plan means I’ll probably never see him again. A few days ago that thought wouldn’t have made me feel like it did now. Like a heavy black cloak had settled over my shoulders. I wouldn’t have cared a few days ago. And a week ago I would have welcomed it.

            But now…now I felt an ache in my chest at the thought of it.

            Kiran looked down at his feet, nodding silently. I wished his expression wasn’t so blank, that he wasn’t so good at keeping his emotions in check. What was he thinking? Could he possibly feel the same way I did?

            I was about to say something, to open my mouth and blurt out a confession, but he turned away quickly, before I could utter a word. My fingers curled inwards, nails biting into the flesh of my palm, clenching my fists to stop myself from…what? Hitting him? Pulling him in to kiss him?

            Confusion was warring inside me, but Kiran was already across the room, examining the hotel room, checking all the windows.

            “It will be easiest to slip back down the hallway,” he muttered to himself. “Yes. He’ll be in the observation room.” He stooped down and yanked the lid off one of the boxes we’d carried inside with us, a circular, blue and white checkered hat box. Instead of fancy hats I knew it contained an assortment of glass vials, packed in tightly with strips of cloth. Kiran had showed me the vials before we left,  glass bottles of every color. Some were filled with clear liquid, others with murky brown or green substances. Poisons and chloroforms, things he claimed he usually didn’t have to use.