Cecilia almost said yes. It lay like a sugared rose petal on her tongue, small yet delicious. She opened her mouth to speak it aloud.

But in that moment she realized they were halfway across the footbridge, with the river tossing glints like sharp blades beneath and the pirate watching her with an alarming stillness in his eyes. Her heart leaped, and she closed her mouth, swallowing what felt now like a thorn.

He must have tossed a coin to the tollbooth attendant when she was not looking. It worried her that she’d been so inattentive. And it proved he was a dangerous man to be around. Not that she needed proof further than the fact that he was intending to murder her, but the flaws of others could be more readily excused than her own. Cecilia did not like making mistakes. And she had made a bad one in almost relenting to this man.

“I beg your pardon, Captain Lightbourne, but I’m afraid I cannot be diverted from my schedule. Thank you for your consideration, however, and if you’ll just return my bracelet I’ll bid you good day.”

“What bracelet?” he asked, all innocence. Cecilia pursed her lips and held out her hand, and he grinned as he laid the loop of gold and pearl in her gloved palm.

“Thank you,” she said. “Please do pass on my compliments to Lady Armitage.”

She turned to depart, but he took a large step alongside, and it was clear he would stop her if necessary. So she paused and looked at him impatiently.

“My fountain pen, if you don’t mind,” he said.

Cecilia sighed. She tipped the pen out of her sleeve, handed it over.

For a moment he just looked at her, his smile still and his eyes intense, making the whole world seem to stop even while her heart fluttered as if he was thieving something from beneath it. Her blood began to race—

And then he blinked. “Thank you,” he said, bowing. “Tell your aunt I send my best wishes.”

“I shall,” Cecilia replied calmly, as if tiny bombs weren’t exploding inside her body. “Farewell, Captain Lightbourne.”

“See you next time, Miss Bassingthwaite.”

No you won’t, she thought as she left the footbridge and proceeded into the city center: I shall be nothing more overt than a silence, a shifting of the air perhaps gently scented with lilacs, when I come again into your presence. You will see only the knife I leave in your rib cage. Just who shall assassinate whom, Captain Charming Ned Flirting Lightbourne?

Smiling at this thought, she nodded to a passing woman, veered away from some children scampering with a puppy, and called briefly in to Sally Lunn’s for an iced bun before continuing on to the library.