“I hope you will be prepared to face the new moon alongside Phelan this upcoming week?” he asked as he guided me to the front door. “You lack experience, do you not, Miss Neven?”

I gritted my teeth but managed a smile. “This is my first new moon, yes, Your Grace. But I have been studying and preparing myself.”

Lord Deryn waved his frantic butler away. Alone, we stood in the foyer; I was keenly aware that the duke had positioned himself between me and the door. The cloying fragrance of his cologne washed over me again. Sweet and musty. My head started to ache.

“I am reassured to hear that, Miss Neven. But may I ask you a few questions before you depart?”

“Of course, Your Grace.” My fingernails dug into the strap of the satchel, marking the leather with crescents.

“If Phelan is wounded on the new moon . . . would you abandon him in the street to save yourself?”

“I would never abandon my partner.”

“Even if it meant your own pain or demise?”

My mouth was parched; I drew in a shaky breath, a medley of bergamot, old wet paper, and my intense desire to leave. “Even so, Your Grace. I’m not one to abandon my duties.”

The duke took a step closer to me. I resisted the urge to shift backward, but I had a spell ready. One that would freeze him to the floor if he so much as tried to touch or threaten me.

“Are you aware that Phelan was wounded a few months ago, Miss Neven?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you what wounded him?”

“No.”

“Perhaps you should discover it, then. As you are his partner, he should confide in you.”

“You don’t know what happened, either?”

“He hails from a very secretive family. But I have no doubt that you will soon be privy to the truth. Or perhaps encounter it on the new moon. If you learn of anything, Miss Neven, you will inform me, won’t you? I pay well for information—riches, jewels, prestige. Position. If you wanted to be warden elsewhere, I could make it happen for you.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace,” I said, and the words were thick as thistledown in my mouth. I felt numb as I sorted through the tumble of what he was asking of me, what he was offering me.

Did he know who I was? But how would he? I had never met or spoken to him before, when I was Clementine. And then I realized . . . he thought I was trying to climb the social ladder among wardens. Becoming Phelan’s partner was a swift way to do so, in particular for a homely girl with meager beginnings.

At last, the duke unlocked and opened the front door for me.