He traced a raindrop as it slid down the other side of the passenger window. “The rain’s subsiding already,” he said, then looked over at her. “Thanks for the ride, Princess Phoebe.”
She placed her hands on the steering wheel and stared straight out the windshield. “How long have you known?”
“Not long enough.”
“Since yesterday?”
“When I saw the flyer about the fashion show. I was suspicious before then, but not when we met here on Saturday.” He paused, then added, with a hint of humor, “The slugs threw me.”
“I’m not fond of slugs,” Phoebe said, then made herself breathe as she looked at him. “I recognized you yesterday, too. I didn’t want to say anything in case you didn’t recognize me, or in case you just wanted to forget the masquerade. It’s not as if it was that big a deal. We dressed up for a benefit. We danced.” She pried her fingers from the steering wheel. “I’m talking too much.”
“You’re fine,” he said. “Olivia and Maggie know?”
“Yes. Well, I know Maggie does, and that means Olivia does.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.” Phoebe remembered her brother-in-law and gave an inward groan. “Wait. Brandon, Maggie’s husband. He saw me and recognized me straight off.”
Noah smiled. “I’ve only met him briefly but I can see that he would. Do you two get along well?”
“We always have, but he knows Maggie’s my sister.”
“You’re on her side.”
“Always, but I hope there are no sides. He won’t say anything about seeing me at the ball.”
“Neither will I. I don’t want to disrupt your life, Phoebe. I enjoyed our dance. I’m glad you were there that night.”
She realized it was getting steamy in the car; the windows were fogging up. The worst of the brief downpour was over. She pushed open her door, welcoming the rush of air. She heard the water high in the stream across the road, tumbling toward the reservoir. Finally she said, “We were both playing a part.”
“What part were you playing?”
“A bold, daring princess who’d let a swashbuckler sweep her off her feet.”
“You played your part well, princess.”
She jumped out of the car, gulping in a breath as she leaned against the hood, ignoring that it was wet. She was vaguely aware of Noah getting out, shutting his door, walking around the hood to her. This would all be easier, she thought, if he didn’t play the role of a daring swashbuckler so well in real life.
He stood next to her but didn’t lean against the car and get himself wet. “Are you okay, Phoebe?”
She nodded. “I overheard that man talking about you.” She could feel the cool rainwater soaking into the back of her sundress. “I wrote the note Olivia gave you.”
“I’m sorry you had to run into him. I’d spotted him. That’s why I left you. I went to find him but I lost him. He must have slipped into the coatroom to make the call you overheard.”
“You don’t know who he is or what he wants?”
Noah hesitated, as if debating what to tell her. “His name is Julius Hartley. He’s a private investigator in Los Angeles. He does work for a prominent law firm there but that’s not his only client. I saw him on my tail a few times in San Diego. I didn’t expect him to show up in Boston.”
“He wasn’t in the mountains with you?”
“No. Do you recognize his name?”
She shook her head. “It’s new to me.”
She was aware of Noah watching her as she stood straight, brushed her wet backside with one hand. “Phoebe, tell me the rest. What wasn’t in the note?”
She didn’t meet his eye. “Hartley—if that’s who it was—told whoever was on the other end that you were with, quote, some woman dressed up like she’s about to board the Titanic, unquote. He said he didn’t know who she was but would find out. That it shouldn’t be hard.”
Noah was silent as she stepped into the middle of the quiet road and picked up a small stone. Everything was wet, dripping. Leaves, flowers, weeds, The Farm at Carriage Hill sign with its hand-painted signature clump of chives.
“It wasn’t unnerving.” Phoebe tossed the stone into the stream. “I’m not worried or afraid Hartley will find me. He didn’t see me, and he has no reason to think I was with Olivia or Maggie, or even that I’m from Knights Bridge. Only Brandon saw me and he was sneaking around himself.”
Noah stood with her on the edge of the road, in front of the stream. He brushed off a mosquito that had found him, then picked up another stone and pelted it into the water, the energy of his throw all that suggested he wasn’t calm, wasn’t unmoved by the prospect of an L.A. private investigator coming to find her. As he turned to her, Phoebe noticed the tension in the muscles in his forearms.
“I left right after I overheard the conversation,” she said. “I thought it could be a marital situation. I didn’t know… I knew he was talking about the swashbuckler I’d danced with but I didn’t know the swashbuckler was you. I was avoiding Dylan and Olivia. Maggie, too. Otherwise you and I might have met as—” As what? Phoebe smiled. “As ourselves.”