I risked a glance at him.

He met the glance with raised brows. Damn.

“I have no doubt your experience was terrifying, Lady Augusta,” he said. “However—” He reached over and picked up the cloth-wrapped packet at his side. With a flick he unfolded its edges and held out the item to me upon the flat of his hand. A silver dagger, set with a ruby. “I found it in the clearing. Not the usual weapon of a thieftaker. Is it yours, by chance?”

The engraved cartouche was face down. Was it mine? Or was it Evan’s? Either way, I wanted it back with a violence I had not expected. Yet, if I claimed it, what would this sharp mind before me glean from such an admission?

By all rights I should deny it. And yet…

“Indeed,” I said, “it is mine.”

The captain smiled and turned the dagger over. “Why, then, is it engraved with the initials EB?” He ran his forefinger over the letters. “Does it stand for Evan Belford, by chance? I saw him run to you in the clearing, call you by the name Gus, and embrace you. Moreover, you called him Evan and returned the embrace quite fervently.”

I cleared my throat. “I have no recollection of such familiarity,” I said.

“It is not a B,” Julia said abruptly. “It is a D. It stands for Ex Deo. From God.”

Both the captain and I stared at her, nonplussed.

“It is a D?” Morland said, peering at the cartouche. He frowned. “No, it is a B.”

Julia leaned over, her fingertip tracing the engraved letters. “It is all the flourish around it. It is a D. I gave it to my sister as a gift.”

I managed to nod. “And I will have it back, please.” I held out my hand.

He hesitated, then flipped the cloth back over the blade and passed it to me. I felt the weight of it across my palm, an image of Evan’s delight as he balanced it upon his fingers warring with the memory of its cold metal against my throat. If I had a chance, I would return it to Evan. But would I have that chance?

“Something is awry here; I know it.” Morland’s voice drew me back into the room. “Something unlawful, I think.”

“But you are not the law, Captain Morland, are you? You are a soldier, and a very good one,” my sister said, rising from her seat. The captain, bound by his sense of etiquette, stood too. “I thank you for coming to the aid of my sister. Without your gallant intervention, I cannot conceive of what would have happened. In our eyes you are a hero. We cannot add to our reports of the evening. It was a most disturbing time and our memories are clouded by the agitation to our delicate womanly nerves. Perhaps that is what should be reported to your superiors.”