Poor woman, she must have been overheating—ladies did wear a prodigious number of layers. Unusual that she was so muscular. Though it wasn’t uncommon for ladies to take up fencing practice in recent years.

“Of course.” He handed her his empty glass, leaving both his hands free, and heaved the window up.

Fresh, salty air swept in and Lady Lyons huffed a relieved sigh. She gulped deep breaths, then smiled, all confidence once again. She thrust both empty glasses at him so decisively, he accepted them without thought. Sitting on the windowsill, she peered down. “Not too far,” she muttered. “Oh, a creeper. Excellent.”

Gods, she wasn’t about to jump, was she? Staring left and right, he put the glasses on the windowsill.

Other blue and gold uniforms approached from all directions. The Governor’s daughter, Miss deLacy, strode towards them, delicate nostrils flaring.

“Madam,” Knigh said, taking half a step towards Lady Lyons, “are you—”

“Thank you so much, Captain Blackwood.” Lady Lyons flashed him a broad grin, all teeth and glittering eyes, before winking, gathering her skirts, and scooting off the windowsill and out.

“Lady Lyons!” He grabbed for her, but his fingertips just grazed smooth silk. When he thrust his head out the window, instead of finding her bleeding, broken on the ground, he spotted her just below. She clambered down the woody branches of a climbing plant, swift as any sailor on the shrouds.

What in the world was she doing?

“That’s my gown,” Miss deLacy cried, drawing up beside him.

Officers reached the other windows and flung them open, hands reaching for their sides where there were no pistols—this was a ball after all.

“Your gown?” He frowned at her, then back out the window. Lady Lyons had reached the ground and was sprinting away into the gardens, skirts pulled up around her knees. “I don’t—”

“Captain Blackwood,” the Governor’s low voice sounded from his other side, “I thought you were here to capture Lady Vice, not mind her punch glass for her.” Her blond eyebrows and full lips sat flat, the picture of displeasure.

“Lady Vice?” What was she talking about? That couldn’t be—

“That was a very expensive gown we ordered from Lunden,” Governor deLacy said, voice level and low like a bosun about to give a raw recruit a good dressing down. “The ship bringing it was due in at the beginning of the week, but never appeared. Its captain was brought in today after quite an ordeal.”

As Lady Lyons disappeared into the undergrowth, Miss deLacy glowered out the window, the expression out of place on her fine features. Once the pink satin had gone, she turned that glower upon him. Nothing about the look felt delicate. “He told a terrible tale about being marooned by Lady Vice.”

Her mother crossed her arms. “Whom you just helped escape.”

Knigh’s throat clenched as his stomach turned. His hands tightened into fists, knuckles aching.