Kendra was playing with her black lace fan when Lucas joined her. He also wore black tonight, which set off his blond hair splendidly. A dark prince touched with gold.

“Everything is in readiness,” he said. “The stage curtains are pale gold so our black garments will show up well in front of them. The tables are all set up in front of the stage and servants are bringing trays of delicious tidbits to each table.”

She smiled a little. “How do you know the food is delicious?”

“I sampled a few pieces, of course. In the interests of ascertaining the quality.” His tone was light and he took hold of her hand to calm her restless fingers. “Our special guest witnesses are dining splendidly in the breakfast room, which is small and secluded from the ball. They’ll be ready when their turn comes.”

She gave him an unsteady smile. “I hope they enjoy their meal. I couldn’t eat a bite myself.”

“Don’t you want to feed those butterflies in your stomach?” he asked with mock surprise.

She laughed and her tension eased a little. “They can wait to be fed.”

After that, they spoke little as they waited in the room behind the small theater. Kendra could hear the music playing in the ballroom, which was just beyond the private theater. Mariah Ashton sent a note saying that Denshire had arrived, along with the friends who’d borne witness against her in the parliamentary divorce trial. Mariah said she’d personally escort them to a table in the front row by the stage.

Then another trumpet fanfare rang out. It was the signal for their performance. In the ballroom, the hostesses were explaining that the mystery entertainment was about to begin so guests should move into the theater and find a table. Shuffling feet and light chatter were heard as people entered and found places. The number of guests at the event matched the seating in the theater, so the ball was not “a sad crush,” but an exclusive entertainment.

Kendra donned her black mask with numb fingers. “Is this on straight?”

Lucas adjusted the mask slightly. “There. You look splendid and compelling.”

“Mariah said that I look like the Angel of Death.”

“Not the Angel of Death. The Angel of Justice.” Lucas rose and moved to the slit in the back of the curtains to wait for his cue. Kendra joined him and peered out.

In the theater, the Duke of Ashton was giving the three hostesses a gentlemanly hand up the steps to the low stage. Kendra had only met him once, but she liked his obvious intelligence and quiet humor. He had been very willing to volunteer the resources of his house to the night’s performance.