It's not too late to turn back.

John stared out the window at the shadowy landscape passing by outside the carriage carrying him and Mary towards the estate of Archibald Hayes. They had been travelling for most of the day, exchanging only a few words before she brought out a book to read. He didn't mind; he had little interest in conversing. Why had he agreed to this? If anyone recognised them, Mary would be ruined. But she'd be ruined if anyone found out about her sister, too. He sighed. That was why he was doing this.

While he might not be particularly fond of Mary, she was still a friend—of sorts. And she deserved better than to have her family's reputation ruined because her younger sister had made an impulsive, foolish decision. Olivia would never forgive him if she discovered he could have done something to save her best friend, and he had chosen not to. He would do anything for Olivia, fool that he was.

Turning his head to look at his travelling companion, he found her watching him with a thoughtful expression on her face; the book folded away on the seat beside her.

"What?" It came out a little testier than intended, but she didn't flinch. A shadow of the smirk that always irked him so tugged at her lips.

"Are you always this brooding?"

He scowled. "I don't brood."

"The way you're pensively staring out of that window begs to differ." She leaned forward slightly, her eyebrows raised in mock sympathy. "Are you sad to leave Olivia? Worried that she will find someone else in your absence?"

"It's not the first time I leave London." He didn't want to admit that he worried about that very thing every time he left. That their friend Dash would finally realise that Olivia loved him and claim her as his. Or that Olivia would finally give up on Dash and accept another suitor without John ever telling her how he felt. But he could never quite bring himself to declare himself. He was a bloody coward, and he knew it. So did Mary, judging from her smirk.

"You should just tell her." She leaned back in her seat again.

"So you've said," he muttered. "It's not quite that simple."

"It is that simple. And that hard."

"So when you fall in love, you will simply tell the gentleman in question?" He watched her as she considered his question. She was wearing the same large cloak she'd worn at the agency a few days ago, and it covered most of her dress, only showing the white muslin at the bottom. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face and arranged into a bun at the top of her head, a few loose tendrils left to frame her face. With the receding light outside, the carriage was getting darker too, and her expressions harder to read.

"I don't know," she finally admitted with a shrug. "I would like to think I would be forthcoming, but I have never been in such a situation, so how can I know how I'd react? Observing you lot and your unwitting love triangle does not bring me much hope. Maybe love makes one stupid."

Her directness forced a wry smile to his lips. "Not quite a triangle."

She chuckled. "Maybe more of a never-ending maze. You love Olivia. Olivia loves Dash. Dash loves R—" Her eyes widened, and she cut herself short as he sat up straighter.

"Dash loves who?" he said, trying to tamp down his excitement at the idea of their friend loving someone else since it made it more unlikely that he would want Olivia.

"I've said too much. It is not my secret to tell." Mary pulled absently on a curl by her temple. "And I do not know for certain. He's never told me. It's only an assumption based on my observations."

Judging from how she had surmised John's feelings for Olivia, he was rather inclined to trust her judgement on these things. Who did they know with a name starting with R? He frowned. No, surely not. "He's in love with Rain? His sister-in-law?"

She let out an explosive sigh. "I think so. But he can never act on it. She is happily married now."

He nodded slowly. On some level, he felt sorry for Dash. It was difficult to love someone so clearly out of your reach. But on another level, he was disappointed that it wasn't someone that could trap their friend's heart forever. To keep him from Olivia. The thought caused a flash of guilt. If he truly loved Olivia, he should want her to be happy, no matter who she was with. And he did want her happy. He just rather wished it would be with him.

"Don't make Dash's mistake." Mary's words made him jerk back. "He was Rain's friend and never told her how he felt. Then his brother swooped in and stole her right in front of him. If you love Olivia, tell her."

"Maybe I will."

They were silent for a moment before Mary spoke again. "I know you don't want to be here," she said. "And I appreciate that you are willing to help despite your misgivings. When this case is over, I will help you charm Olivia. I know her better than my sister, and I'm certain I can open her eyes to you."

His cheeks heated. Was he truly that hopeless? "Thank you, but that's not necessary. I'm not doing this for you to offer me something in return."

"I know." She shrugged. "But it's the least I can do. If I get out of this with my reputation still intact."

"You will," he promised, even if he wasn't as certain of it as he'd like to be. "We will find your sister and bring her home before anyone realises she's been gone. If everyone at this party wears a mask, no one will know who she is."

"I hope so." She tugged on the curl at her temple again, pulling it straight, then letting it go with a frustrated little huff, and it bounced back into shape. "Jane has always been spontaneous, but this time she's really done it. Foolish, selfish girl."

He agreed but didn't want to say so out loud, as it would be rude. "It will be all right. We've got this."

Mary flashed him a grateful smile. She probably knew his concerns but appreciated the encouragement nonetheless. Picking up her book again, she fingered the pages but didn't attempt to read in the encroaching darkness. They fell into a companionable silence as they waited.

Not much later, the carriage finally pulled up in front of a tall mansion built from honey-coloured stone, and a footman helped them down. Fishing the peculiar calling card out from his pocket, John offered Mary his arm before they put on their masks and ascended the stairs to the large front door. A butler let them inside after a quick glance at the piece of paper and showed them to a room upstairs.

"The guests are still arriving, and those already here are resting. This evening's ball will begin at nine, and we will serve supper at midnight." The butler bowed before closing the door behind him, leaving them alone in the bedroom.

John took in their surroundings as he untied his mask, noting the pale yellow wallpaper and rich creme fabrics decorating the room. A small writing desk and a chair stood in front of a large window overlooking the dusky gardens at the back of the house. His eyes fell on the bed. The one bed. He cursed silently.

"I expected us to have separate rooms," Mary admitted from the other side of the room, where she absently trailed her fingers over the armrest of an upholstered chair.

"So did I. We—" He faltered as they heard a knock on the door and two footmen came inside with their luggage. Thanking them, he told them they would unpack themselves, and the servants disappeared again.

"We will have to make do." Mary motioned towards the bed. "It's only sleeping. I am certain we can share a bed without coming to blows about who is taking up the most space."

He nodded slowly. They were already pretending to be lovers, so their reputation would be ruined no matter what if someone found out. Platonic sharing of a bed behind closed doors was the least of their worries.

"I suspect every couple in attendance is sharing a room," he said. "It allows for more guests."

Mary pressed her lips together for a moment. "Does that mean Jane is already sharing a room with Hayes?"

"Possibly." He didn't want to lie to her. If her sister had run away to be with this man, it was likely he had already compromised her. They could only hope to get her away before she was with child. Mary seemed to have realised the same.

"Bloody perfect," she muttered as she undid the clasps of her cloak and shrugged out of it. John nearly choked when she turned around after throwing it on the chair. The dress had looked perfectly demure from the back, but the front was something else entirely. The bodice was so low cut it looked as if she might spill out of the decolletage at any moment, and the fabric appeared thinner than he could remember seeing a ball gown before.

Noticing him staring, Mary made a wry face. "Lord Winter had the agency's seamstress supply me with some dresses. Apparently, the style at these parties is not quite the one we're used to."

"I'd say." He tried very hard not to gawk. Which was easier said than done. It was quite a shock to see Mary wearing something so... revealing. Her dresses were usually fashionable enough, but they were often quite demure. This... abomination of a dress was definitely not that. The swell of her breasts pushed above the thin fabric as she sighed, and he forced himself to focus on unpacking their luggage resting at the foot of the bed.

"Would you believe this is one of the less revealing ones?"

He could hear the rustling of fabric as she moved but refused to look up. Which was ridiculous. He would have to look at her eventually. It wasn't as if he was attracted to her. He barely even liked her. The bags bounced slightly when Mary threw herself backwards onto the bed.

"I'm so glad we will wear masks," she said. "If anyone was to recognise me dressed like this, it would mortify me." She twisted her head to look at him, and he realised he'd been standing still for a full minute, holding on to one of his shirts. "It's unfair that the men appear to be wearing regular clothes. I don't see you walking around with your shirt half undone."

"Maybe they'll surprise us and you'll get to see a lot of half-naked men tonight."

Her green eyes lit up, and she scrambled into a sitting position. "Do you think so? It might almost make this all worth it. My life is rather dull. This is the most excitement I will ever experience, I suspect."

"I honestly don't know." He smiled wryly. "This is new to me as well."

"Oh right, you said." She let out a little sigh, and he tried not to notice the way it made her breasts push against the low-cut fabric.

Swallowing with some difficulty, he raked a hand through his hair. So maybe he was a little attracted to her. He was only a man, and he was not blind. It meant nothing. A purely physical reaction to visual stimuli. But the sooner they could find her sister and he could conclude his investigation on Hayes, the better.

~~~~~~