She hesitated. "You dance?"
"I was taught."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because you look frightened."
"I am not frightened."
"Then prove it."
She took his hand. The music began. Nathaniel moved easily; Evelyn followed.
"You're good."
"I told you."
"You tell me many things."
"Most of them are true."
"You're still arrogant."
"You're still talking."
She smiled. They turned through the dancers. For a few minutes, London disappeared: there was no gossip, no inheritance, no contract—only music. When the dance ended, Evelyn did not immediately release his hand. Nathaniel noticed.
"So did I pass?"
"You did. Barely."
"Very barely," he smiled.
Then a voice interrupted them: "Your Grace."
Nathaniel turned. Sebastian Vale stood behind them. Evelyn's expression changed.
Sebastian bowed. "I wondered when you would return to London."
"I had no intention of staying."
"Pity." His gaze shifted to Evelyn. "You must be enjoying your new position."
Evelyn smiled. "I am."
Sebastian leaned closer. "I hope you understand how temporary these things can be."
Nathaniel stepped between them. "Choose your next words carefully."
Sebastian smiled. "I merely meant that society can be unpredictable."
"Then predict this." Nathaniel's voice was quiet. "If you insult my wife again, you will discover exactly how predictable I can be."
Sebastian walked away. Evelyn watched him.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did."
"You promised to let me fight my own battles."
"I did, and I said I would let you."
She looked at him. "That sounds suspiciously like you are planning to fight yours beside mine."
"I am."
She smiled. "That's different."
"Yes."
The next morning, Nathaniel discovered something worse than gossip: someone had stolen papers from his London office. The missing documents concerned the Blackwood succession.
Evelyn read the list. "Sebastian, most likely."
"What did he take?"
"Copies of the original estate trust."
"Can he use them?"
"Not alone."
"Then he needs something else." Nathaniel looked at her. "What?"
She pointed to the list. "Your father's private correspondence."
Nathaniel went still. Those letters were not supposed to exist outside Blackwood Hall. If Sebastian had them, he could distort the history of the succession.
They returned to Blackwood immediately. Nathaniel searched the family archive; Evelyn helped. They spent hours going through old boxes. At midnight, she found a hidden compartment beneath a drawer. Inside was a bundle of letters.
Nathaniel took them carefully. "My father wrote these about Sebastian?"
"No."