It hadn’t been without purpose. With every introduction made to her, every conversation she had and every dance she shared, Effie was gaining a greater and greater foothold into London society. People were beginning to see her as one of them. To accept her and—more importantly—to include her.

This was why Miss Corvus had summoned her back from Paris. Not because Effie was the most impressive of the girls at searching rooms or breaking into locked desks, but because Effie knew how to be a lady. She could blend in with the fashionable elite, move among them, be one of them.

For now, it was as much her job as it had been being lady’s companion to Madame Dalhousie. Effie consoled herself that at least this position had a worthy prize at the end of it—her complete independence. It was no minor thing. On the contrary. It was everything.

She gave Franc a consoling scratch on the head. “One day soon,” she promised him, “you and I will be at liberty to do as we please.”

But not today.

Smoothing her cherry red caraco jacket and giving her black poplin skirts a shake, she departed her bedchamber and descended the stairs to the drawing room.

Miss Compton was seated on the tufted settee, clad in a berry-colored silk dress trimmed with a staggering amount of pink chenille fringe. She stood when Effie entered.

“Miss Compton,” Effie said, exchanging a curtsy with the girl. “This is a surprise.”

Miss Compton’s beautiful face was unsmiling. She opened her fringe-trimmed reticule. “I came to return this to you.” She extracted Effie’s dragonfly pin.

Effie affected a look of relief, even as her senses sharpened with alertness. “You found it? How splendid.” Taking the pin from Miss Compton, Effie blithely tucked it into one of the side rolls of her upswept coiffure, placing it alongside the dragonfly hairpin that was already there. She was never without one. “Thank you for returning it to me.” She gestured for Miss Compton to sit. “But you needn’t have brought it yourself, surely.”

Miss Compton resumed her seat on the settee. “I presumed it was something of value to you, else you wouldn’t have been searching my rooms for it during the musicale.”

Effie smiled. She had nothing to hide in that regard. It was the whole reason she’d left the hairpin behind. Its presence had given her an excuse to poke about upstairs during the musicale. “It’s of great value to me.” She sat down across from her. “I was quite distressed when I couldn’t find it.”

“Sentimental value, I expect you mean. For it’s only cut glass.” Miss Compton’s eyes took on a spiteful gleam. “Or perhaps you weren’t aware?”

Effie’s smile remained, undimmed. Of course, she knew it was glass. All of her hairpins, brooches, and ornaments were similarly made. She could afford nothing else.