She suddenly pulled in a trembling breath and saved me from courting my own murder by stepping away. She dropped the dagger as if it had burned her hand, then wrapped her arms around her body, bent her head, and turned away. A curl of dark hair shook loose and fell against the graceful curve of her neck, and I ached to ease it back . . . no, to take out the pins that held her hair, see it tumble loose and silky around her white shoulders.

“Why are you here?” she whispered. “Jesu, Benvolio, do you not know they will cut you to pieces?”

I snapped back to my purpose, but it was an effort; I had gone a great distance away, it seemed, and what I’d come to do had faded in proportion. I turned away from her, stared hard at a candle’s flame, and tried to clear my mind. “Your cousin,” I said. “She slipped her escorts this afternoon. She’s exchanged vows with Romeo.”

“What?” Rosaline whirled. “How? How could she— What folly is that? Does he not know my family would destroy them both?”

“Mine too,” I said. “My grandmother would sooner see them dead.”

“But . . . married? Oh, this is a disaster! I thought it only a flattery, a fantasy to sustain her before the reality of her coming wedding; I never thought . . . I thought she might act improperly, never with such recklessness!”

“We can still stop it,” I said. “But I need your help.”

“How?”

“I think Romeo is here,” I said, and I saw her press her hands to her mouth in horror. “In her room. Perhaps readying to be in her bed. I dare not go in; she’ll shriek the house down, and Romeo and I would both be food for the dogs. If you interrupt them . . .”

“Then I am only the concerned convent-bound cousin, shocked to find them contemplating such sin,” she finished, and flashed me a shaking smile. “Yes. I will go.”

It was a risk, even so; she was supposed to be locked in, though I supposed that they would see that as a minor enough rebellion if she was caught. I doubted Juliet would care.

“Make him leave quietly,” I cautioned her. “Any betrayal would cost him his life. Please.”

That woke a silvery flash in her eyes, and I knew she was remembering that Romeo’s sword had taken her brother’s life this day. It would be so simple, so easy to gain the revenge her family desired so much. Nothing but a raised voice, a shocked cry . . . and it would cost her nothing but my own regard.

I caught her hand as she moved past me, and for just a moment, our fingers curled in on one another, sealed in pain and urgency . . . and then she opened the door of her room, and was gone.