Just as that day their eyes met in her family's parlor in Wickhurst months ago, Cole felt his entire being stiffen and his brain freeze while the rest of his senses went berserk altogether.

The very sight of her transported his mind into a place somewhere in time. The feeling was undeniably familiar that he almost believed he was back in a life before Leah's death, a time when his days were filled with fun, his future planned with Margaret Everard present in every facet of it.

The look in her green eyes reminded him of what he did not choose, of the pain they suffered but did not share.

"Lord Ashmore," his companion said, snapping Cole back to what now became the future of his past.

He tore his eyes off the only woman whose very presence could make any future seem horrible because she was not in it.

"Let us resume this talk at another time," he said. "We have passed the time necessary for a casual greeting." Without another word, he turned his back to the young man and walked away. He stole a glance and found that Margaret was already gone.

***

Margaret hurried down the corridor while her feet would still allow it. Her heart was beating hard against her chest as though she ran the entire day.

Seconds. It had merely been seconds yet it felt like an eternity.

When she rounded into an empty corridor, she staggered to the wall and leaned against it to catch her breath. She brushed some stray strands off her face and swallowed.

She ran her damp palms down the skirts of her dress. "Master yourself, Maggie," she murmured. "Focus and stop being pathetic."

Pushing away from the wall, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders, cleared her throat.

He blamed your brother over his sister's demise. He nearly killed Ben. He scarred his face. He left you. There are too many reasons to hate him now.

She willed her mind to work, recounting what she had to do first.

Tori.

Of course. Tori needed her help.

***

"Tori, are you alright?" Levi asked. Margaret turned to find Tori's face turn as pale as her hair. Mayhap she had tightened Tori's stays too much earlier. But it was part of their plan. After Lord Chattoway forgot Tori in the maze garden earlier, it was apparent that they had to move to the next man on Levi's list: Wittlock.

"I am sorry, but I feel I am about to faint," Tori replied, gripping Levi's upper arm.

Wittlock's eyes widened with alarm, and told Tori what everyone already knew. She did not look well. Wittlock turned to Levi and added, "Perhaps she needs to—" which Margaret thought was the perfect time to interrupt by saying, "Please, get her to a room while I get her stepmother."

She then turned to Levi, gaze filled with meaning. Her brother's eyes narrowed, understanding her wicked plan. His eyes flew back to Tori.

"She is certainly not all right," Wittlock said, catching Tori when she swayed.

"I will look for her stepmother," Margaret hastily said. "Allow him to help," she whispered to Levi. "And do not interfere."

"I do not like this, Margaret. This is foolish," he hissed.

"Loosen her stays and she will be alright," Margaret said before rushing away.

She walked around the ballroom to search for Tori's stepmother, Lady Clarice. She needed to distract the woman before Clarice could do anything to intervene with her stepdaughter's chances. Wittlock was a very good candidate. His gaze never left Tori since her friend entered the ball earlier. Not only was he well-traveled, he was also from a good family. He was the perfect husband her friend was looking for.

"Margaret, where have you been?" her mother's voice asked, stopping her parade with a hand.

She turned and feigned surprise. "Ah, Mother! Do forgive me. I was with Levi and Tori. Have you seen Lady Clarice?"

Her mother shook her head while Margaret's eyes scanned the entire ballroom. Then her eyes landed on him. He was standing in the back of the crowd talking to the same young man she saw earlier. Her mother was talking about the treasure hunt that had transpired earlier in the day.

"Yes, I knew of it," she absently answered, following Cole's movement with her gaze.

"And I was told the treasure was never revealed?"

"Yes. Lady Gedge did not reveal it."

"But the winner knew what it is? Rather curious, wouldn't you say? Lady Gedge keeping a secret? History tells me it would not be for long. That woman has a certain itch in her mouth that could only be eased by gossipmongering."

"Yes, I'm quite sure," she absently replied.

"You are distracted, dear. Are you feeling fine?"

"Headache, Mother," she lied, planting her fingers to her temple. "Would you excuse me? I would like to rest a while."

The way her mother's eyes narrowed told her Alice Everard did not believe her. "Well, whatever it is you're doing for Tori, it better be worth it."

She bit her lips to suppress a laugh. "Will you be fine alone?"

Lady Alice rolled her eyes. "I should be. Lady Theobald has requested for my presence." Her mother leaned closer and whispered, "Lady Lettice has found the pianoforte in the music room. I was hoping you'd accompany me for the ear-splitting experience."

Margaret chuckled. "I'm afraid you would have to suffer alone tonight, Mother," she said, walking away.

"Do have a good rest—or whatever it is you children are up to!" her mother said after her.

Margaret was approaching a group of ladies she barely knew, waiting until her mother found a friend and both ladies walked out of the ballroom. Tori's stepmother was not in sight, which was a convenience. Wherever the woman was now, she was missing Tori's initial success. If Levi was doing his job, of course.

"Cole Devitt, yes?" one woman in the group asked as Margaret sauntered away. She paused and slowly joined the group with a smile. The other ladies were too immersed in their chat to notice her intrusion.

"Yes, I heard he transferred to Wickhurst," another lady said under her breath as she sighed. "Why does Wickhurst have the best bachelors? They already have the Everards," another whined, looking around the group, even at Margaret.

Margaret joined the mournful nodding of heads.

"I had a chance to dance with an Everard. It was the highlight of my first season," one woman bragged.

"Who?"

"Benedict Everard, Lord of Devonshire."

"He's married now, dear."

"Yes. It was on the Herald."

"He's not particularly handsome, is he? Not like the rest of his brothers?"

"My cousin swears that Benedict Everard was the best-looking Everard before his scars. And them Wickhurst people dare refer to him as the beast! Can you believe it?"

"I'm afraid I have not seen him without the scars. How did he get them?"

"No one dares talk about it, but I heard rumors. They said it was from a fight over a woman."

"Is he not the new head of the Men of Courts in Wickhurst?" Margaret finally asked. "Cole Devitt, I mean."

"He is now, is he not?" said another lady, her voice dreamy. "If I should say, he is rather handsome. Not like Nicholas Everard, of course. But he has a certain charm about him. I cannot quite point it out."

"Oh, I know what you mean," answered one lady with a giggle.

The ladies turned their heads to stare at Cole's back, the topic of Benedict completely forgotten. "Who is that young man he is with?" she asked.

"I do not know and I do not care," answered one of them.

"He is rather too young. Barely out of the schoolroom. Is he a younger brother?"

"Lord Ashmore, as I recall, is an only son," Margaret found herself saying before she could stop herself.

The ladies snapped their heads at her with interest.

"You are familiar with him personally?" one wide-eyed girl asked.

"No," she lied. "I might have read it on the Herald. He was featured weeks ago, I believe."

"Ah, yes. It was the same article that drew my attention to him. Good of him to have given that poor woman in Wickhurst a pardon." She turned to her friend to explain, "That same woman is Benedict Everard's wife. Benedict, the Everard I once danced with."

"You mean Agatha Everard?" Margaret asked.

"Yes, but she was not an Everard yet by that time, yes?"

The other ladies nodded. "They were affianced."

"Was she not the Everard sisters' governess?"

"I heard she was a servant before she became a governess," another added.

Margaret slowly backed away from the group. Cole was heading out of the ballroom with the young man.

They were an unlikely pair. Why would Cole be spending time with such company?

She traced their steps and waited until they entered a room in haste, giving Margaret even more reason to reach the door. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was about. The corridor was empty; the distant noise from the ballroom the only sound. She was not going to linger for long, she thought, as she leaned her ear to the door. She just had to know who the young man was.

"Margaret!"

Margaret jumped to her feet and whirled around, heart leaping to her throat. And she was quite certain it stopped beating when she realized who was standing in front of her.

William Wakefield.

"Good heavens! You startled me," she shakily said, catching her breath.

The handsome, blond lord laughed, his blue eyes alight with amusement. Levi's infamous rake of a friend caught her snooping around an empty corridor. No—he caught her with her ear pressed against a door!

"I did not mean to cause you alarm, but I was meaning to enter through the very door your head has been resting on," he said with a wide grin.

Margaret forced out a chuckle. "I was looking for Levi," she said, "and I was not certain if I could barge inside without notice."

"Well, of course, you could," Wakefield said, walking over to the door, hand extended. "Whyever could you not?"

Margaret opened her mouth to stop him but it was too late. Her eyes were wide even before the door swung open.

"It is a gaming hall, see?" Wakefield said, his arm spread out to present to her the room.

Everyone in the room paused and turned their heads to stare at her, Cole Devitt and his young dark-haired companion included.

He was sitting around a card table with an old man while the young man was standing not far away, talking to someone else.

This time, however, Margaret was more overwhelmed by relief than anxiety. She may not be as prepared as she had hoped, but she was not alone. She did not meet Cole's eyes as she composed herself and pretended to scan the room with her gaze.

She swallowed. "Well, I'm afraid my brother is not here," she told Wakefield.

"Margaret!" A man she recognized as her late father's friend greeted, jumping to his feet. "Come, dear. Join us for a game!" To his friends, he added, "The late Harold Everard and his wife used to play in Grey's! Are you aware of that?"

"You mean Lady Alice?" someone asked.

"You did not hear that from me!" the man said with a laugh.

"Do join us, Margaret," Wakefield said, his hand coming to rest under her elbow while the rest of the room waited for her to step inside. "And fret not for I am here. As my friend's dear sister, you are safe with me. And from me," he said with a chuckle.

Margaret was aware of Cole's gaze, but she ignored it.

Bloody hell, she silently cursed.

As Cole was to Benedict before, Wakefield was also like a brother to Levi and she was comfortable with him, having been a witness to many of their drunken nights back when Levi was still living in Wickhurst. She smiled and squared her shoulders. "Very well," she said, taking a step forward into the gaming hall. "But I shall not be long," she added to Wakefield.

"Come here, child," said her father's old friend.

"Would you be doing the honor of making introductions, Lord Humphrey?" she braved to ask in a voice that was surprisingly not shaking, although her senses were highly aware of just one presence in the room.

Lord Humphrey laughed loudly. "Of course! Of course!"

Margaret was grateful that Wakefield did not leave her side as she walked around the room, passing by card tables and a large table where a Faro game was being held. The men had once again resumed their games, pausing only as she passed by to offer a small smile. Noise began to fill the room once again.

Lord Humphrey took her gloved hand in his and hooked it in the crook of his arm, taking her away from Wakefield. He took her from one acquaintance to another, stopping games for introductions, their names barely brushing her consciousness, most of them awed by the mere mention of the Everard name.

"The family that can rob us of our riches and still make my wife happy," quipped one man. "You make wonderful pieces, dear."

"I do not, my lord. I lack the talent to design jewelries like my brother."

"Maxwell, of course. He makes the best, doesn't he?"

"He does."

"The last piece my daughter got, I had to pay with my soul!"

With a laugh, Humphrey took her away and toward the card table where Cole Devitt had been sitting. During the short journey, her heart was uncontrollable. Blood rushed to her ears and she fought for composure with each step.

As she was introduced to the old man he was playing with, Margaret could feel his gaze seeping into her skin. And as the old man took his seat and Margaret turned to face him, Cole slowly stood up.

Her eyes finally met his brown ones. His face was bare of any emotion, save for an expectant look. Where in the bloody hell was Wakefield? Had he not said he would not leave—Ah, the bastard was talking and laughing with a friend!

"And this is—" Lord Humphrey began, but Margaret decided to take the matter into her own hands. "Lord Ashmore," she interjected with a smile. Cole's eyebrow twitched, but nothing more, and he offered a small bow in her direction. "I know him quite well," she added, realizing this was the closest they had been since that day she begged him to spare Benedict's life.

"You do?" Lord Humphrey asked, surprised. Cole was the same, but he did not show it. However, his jaw tightened as they waited for her reply.

Her gaze locked with Cole's. Or mayhap he held hers prisoner because she certainly had not yet mastered the power to do it herself. "Yes. Lord Ashmore is the new head of the Men of Courts in Wickhurst. If you must know, he visited our estate due to one big misunderstanding."

She could not help the pang in her chest when she saw the relief in his face. Did he fear she would reveal their history?

She blinked away and smiled at Lord Humphrey. "But that's all settled now. You must have read it on the Herald."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady," Cole said before Humphrey could utter a reply.

Margaret managed a curt nod without sparing him another look. "The pleasure is all mine, my lord," she murmured, proud that she was able to smile and turn away. She did not lose control and she handled it quite well. Now, all she needed was for Humphrey to introduce her to the mysterious young man.

Her eyes searched the room and she frowned.

The young man was gone.