A twinge in my heart. “Not even you,” I say, smiling to cover it.
He clears his throat and looks away. “So you still think that man from the catacombs is the way to go?”
“I do,” I whisper, realizing that in saying so, I’m halfway to committing to my insane scheme.
“But how will you pay for it?” His face splits into a grin and he chuckles wryly. “Please don’t ask me to help you steal the Zhào jewels again. I’m not sure I’d survive.”
I laugh. “That was quite a night, wasn’t it?”
In addition to titles, pensions, and room and board at one of the world’s premier architectural landmarks, the first Sonoman King—Kevin Wyndham—persuaded board members to participate in his unusual endeavor by making gifts of historic jewels that came as part and parcel of his purchase of the palace. The particular piece Lord Aaron and I purloined—a cluster of glittering sapphires on a golden chain—is rumored to have belonged to King Louis XV’s mistress, the famous Madame de Pompadour. The Zhào family displays it rather garishly, right in the front atrium of their apartments. Lady Mei is always complaining of how gauche it is, but her comments over the years gave Lord Aaron and me just enough information—on top of our hacking skills—to steal the necklace from her family in the dead of night.
“Taking it wasn’t half so bad as having to put it back three hours later,” I say wryly. I remember the tingling of my fingers, the sweat rolling down my back as the horizon grew pinker and we were still crouched in front of the elaborate jewel case, trying to break through that final firewall before the household awoke.
“Indeed,” Lord Aaron said, chuckling. “If I’d known you were going to be such a failure, I’d have left a few back doors open.”
I ignore his faux rebuke. “You must have been furious—me bursting in on you at sunrise, demanding your assistance.”
“I wasn’t pleased to see you at that hour, I do confess.”
“I was so stupid,” I say, sobering now. “I thought I could have everything.”
We stroll through the orchard, veering away from a rowdy group of young ladies who’ve been edging closer to us. “What’s your plan now?” he asks.
“I haven’t decided for sure. But I have…potential.”
“Spill.”
“It’s illegal,” I whisper.
“So is killing the lady you’re trysting with.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“Sometimes I think perhaps they do,” he says, stopping and looking at me gravely. “I’d do something illegal to save your life; I hope you’d do the same for me.”
I let out a short, skeptical laugh. “That’s the beginning and end of your standards? What if it hurts people?” I don’t want to think too hard about that, so I clear my throat and continue. “Or the kingdom? What if it brings down the kingdom?”
“Then you leave, I leave—I imagine a goodly number of others leave—and to the devil with the kingdom,” he adds with a little more heat. “At its heart it’s only a corporation full of massively wealthy people.”
But I focus on his first statement. “You leave? How will you leave?”
“The Foundation,” he says. “I still fund it, you know.”
I stop, my slippered feet crunching on the gravel walk. “Really?”
“Ever ready with plan B.”
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get caught?”
“What would they punish me for? It’s not against the law.”
“It’s socially unacceptable. Which is practically the same thing.”
He shrugs. “I’d survive such a relatively small scandal. But if the Foundation is contacted by someone less able to afford its services than I was, I want them to be able to get what they need. That’s all.”
“I didn’t peg you as a philanthropist.”
“It’s possible I have ulterior motives.”
“Such as?”
He swings his walking stick and raises an eyebrow at me. “If I should one day find myself wanting to leave with a terribly handsome lad in tow, who’s tired of being a puppet in his father-in-law’s machinations, it would be most fortuitous to have an organization such as this one indebted to me.”
“Touché,” I say, tapping his shoulder with my fan. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you have such plans.”
“No, you should not,” he says with a vaguely condescending smile. After several paces in silence, he remarks, “I can’t believe he moved you into the Queen’s Rooms. He’s such a pompous ass.”
“Oh, that’s the least of what he is.” I mean for the words to sound playful, but they don’t, and a lump catches in my throat. I bend and toss a handful of pebbles into the pond. Lord Aaron stoops and grabs his own handful, though he throws his one at a time, and for a while the only sound is the gentle plop they make as they break the surface of the water.
“Are you sorry you stayed?” I ask.
“I wish I could be.”
I glance over at him, an eyebrow raised in question.
“The only thing worse than not being able to be with the one you love is not being able to even see him.”