“I’m sorry,” she said.
He moved as if to reach for her. Arista turned and ran blindly into an opening between the tall hedges. He shouted behind her, and her street instincts kicked in. She ran down a short path to where the maze broke off into two directions. She didn’t think, just chose one and then another as the path split again and again.
The maze grew darker as she made her way deeper into it. There were only a few lanterns placed sparingly, with just enough light to illuminate a specific pathway. Probably the one leading the way out. Arista chose the opposite way and the trail soon opened into a round garden. A single lantern sat atop a stone column. Most likely, she was at the center of the maze. She listened behind her, searched for signs of pursuit, but heard nothing louder than the whisper of her own skirt.
Only then, when she was finally alone, did she exhale. She stood, gasping for air. All the carefully constructed walls that allowed her to live, to exist in this godforsaken life, started to crumble. Twice now, she’d run from her very own glimpse of freedom.
It had been years since she’d really believed her life could change. Hope had given way to despair. No one would save her. No one cared about her at all.
Damn that highwayman to hell. Damn his touch that lit a spark of hope inside her again. She didn’t want to feel anything. Numbness was safe. It was the only thing that got her through the horror of each day. Arista sank onto a stone bench and clenched her hands together in her lap.
Forget him. Forget tonight.
“A nice evening for a stroll, is it not?” Arista bolted upright. She had not heard anyone approach. The shadowy figure of a man stood next to an ivory-colored statue. The red tip of a cheroot cigar glowed in the low light. Not the highwayman. There had been no smell of tobacco on him either time they’d met.
Arista was entirely too rattled and exposed to have any further conversations tonight. Bones be damned. Lady A could not properly do her job in this state.
“Pardon me for interrupting. I’ll leave you to yourself,” Arista said. She started to back away, when the man stepped into a small pool of light. He wore a simple lion’s mask over his eyes.
“Please, stay—if you don’t mind, Lady A.” She could not move, even as he stepped closer. Arista sensed nothing hostile or dangerous in his movements. No telltale signs that he meant to hurt her. Still, she could feel the authority surrounding him, even when he stood at a distance. A man clearly used to getting his way. And he knew who she was. He held all the advantage.
“I don’t care much for social niceties when getting to the point works so much better, don’t you agree?” He waved his cheroot in the air as he spoke. “Now, why don’t you have a seat and we can talk business?” Arista looked around, but realized that the hedge maze had been designed for a single purpose: to hide anyone inside. She lowered her hand to her side, where she could feel the knife’s handle. If he thought to harm her in any way, she would fight to the end.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. You seem to know me, but I don’t know you.” He was not a former client, because Arista would have remembered dealing with someone like him before. He must be the person she’d been sent to meet tonight. It was the only logical explanation, but still it was little comfort.
“We have a mutual friend,” he said, as if that explained everything.
So he was the client. Usually, the people she met with were nervous or angry, but this man seemed overconfident. He looked quite relaxed, in fact, for someone about to barter away a secret. The sweet fragrance of roses and gardenias filled her lungs.
Arista had no patience for games tonight. “Payment is required first. Along with the information you wish to trade.” She held out her hand and waited. “And I’ll take your contact information, to set up the second meeting, should your secret be of value.”
He studied her intently for several long seconds before straightening to his full height. When he stepped closer, Arista saw how he towered over her. He was taller than Nic, even. His shoulders were broad, as if he were accustomed to hard work, yet his perfectly tailored clothing spoke of money. She fought the urge to take a step back. That would only show weakness. There were no sounds from the party this deep into the garden.
“I’ve not come to make a deal with your boss. I’m much more interested in dealing directly with you, Lady A.” He was crazy. Or Bones had set her up, was testing her.
She started to move past him, but he grabbed her arm. Arista stiffened and fought the urge to reach for her knife. Nic would have had the man backed up against the wall for even touching her. Where the hell was he tonight?