“And what about Hammond? He has been a colleague of the Rook, yes? Is it possible that he will not let your brother leave these shores?”

She shook her head. “He won’t risk twenty gendarmes. He can’t call the militia without Mr. Halflife or the sheriff, and the Commonwealth would say it’s your own business to make sure you can’t be carted off, anyway. So says our doctrine of self-reliance.” She smiled slightly. “A convenient excuse for Parliament to be weak, that’s what Tom says about the doctrines.”

“Tom was militia?”

“Until he broke his leg. He still is, officially.”

“And is that where you got your training, Mademoiselle?”

“He brought most of it home, yes.” Tom had been training her regularly since she was twelve years old. And if LeBlanc thought she had worked her parry on the Bellamy beach for the last time, he was sorely mistaken. She looked back over her shoulder. “How do you know I have training?” Waving that sword around in the north wing definitely did not count.

“I notice things. That is all.”

Sophia ran a hand through her hair, which was sticking out in all directions. What else had René Hasard seen that she was unaware of? “So, is it canceled, then?”

“What? Our wedding?” His face took on an expression of mock hurt. “How could you think me so ungallant?”

“You don’t consider lying ungallant?”

“But I am so good at it, Mademoiselle.”

“And you wonder why no one trusts you.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you have a dagger in the inside pocket of your jacket.” He smiled with that same corner of his mouth, the corner she really shouldn’t find so interesting. She’d forgotten she wasn’t supposed to be looking. “And I would hate to suffer and die from that curiosity you warned me of.”

René leaned his tousled head back against the wall, fire-blue eyes a little sly. “You are curious, Mademoiselle? Tell me what you are curious about.”

She was curious about why he had really come to Bellamy House. She was curious about what they were doing right now, alone in this room. She wanted to know about this game he’d been playing, why his hands were rough, what red hair felt like, and what would have happened in the sanctuary if she had turned her head. No, Sophia thought, her curiosities were one thing she definitely would not be sharing with him.

Then all at once René was on his feet without a rustle, cocking his head toward the candle. Someone was coming down the corridor. She pretended not to know what he wanted for a moment, then sighed and stepped around the flame, shielding the candlelight with her body and the blanket. René took one of the pillows from the bed, its rotting case leaving a trail of gray feathers, and pushed it along the crack below the door, so their light would not show.

“… can’t have lost the both of them. That is very careless …”

Sophia’s eyes darted up. Mrs. Rathbone. Was the entire county running about Bellamy House today? René met her gaze and put a finger to his lips.

“… and I have something very delicate to say to her. It’s no use asking me what.”

“Mrs. Rathbone, Sophie is resting. She isn’t well …”

Spear, and he sounded tired.

“And so where is she, then?” said Mrs. Rathbone, her voice quite close. They must have been standing on the back staircase, just outside the door. “And where is he, and what have they been up to? Tell me that! You’ll have to keep a much better eye on her from now on. Could she be up here? And when are you going to stop being such a coward? Stand up for yourself, young man! Why don’t you just ask and be done?”

“I don’t know. I will! Just … Leave it alone!” Those last words from Spear had been a shout, coming from a distance as they moved to the upper floor. Sophia bit her lip. Spear usually kept his emotions under tight command. Not today. She closed her eyes. If Spear was back, then Tom was on the Channel Sea, sailing in chains to the Sunken City.

René turned from the door. “Your neighbor seems to believe that you are now Hammond’s responsibility. That is interesting. I think she has also assumed that our wedding is canceled.”

Sophia lifted her gaze. “How could she think you so ungallant?”

“I cannot imagine.” The grin tugged again at his mouth.

Sophia looked away and pulled the blanket tighter, wincing at the pain from her side as she went back to the safety of her tower corner. Dusk had come. Their candle was already brighter in the room than it had been. She said, “You asked what I was curious about. I want to know why you didn’t tell him. You came here to help him. You knew where I’d been the night before. But then you didn’t tell him.”

“I assume you are referring to my cousin. And if that is so, Mademoiselle, I will tell you that I came here to help him do nothing.”

Sophia turned to him again, ready to protest, thinking of the half-finished letter. But then she held her peace. LeBlanc had left that letter to be found, of course, just like he’d left a man to watch his room. What better way to bait Tom than insinuate his sister was being used? Perhaps she had been. Perhaps she was.

René had settled into his place on the floor, open collar hanging loose, hair untied, elbows back on the knees of his breeches, but now his expression was thoughtful. “It is time to speak plainly, I think, Mademoiselle. I came to the Commonwealth for two reasons. First, because I had been ordered by the head of my family to marry a young woman named Sophia Bellamy. And since I am being truthful I will tell you that this was not any more agreeable to me than I think it was to you. But the head of my family happens to be my maman, and she is a woman … difficult to refuse.”

Sophia could not tell if he meant that as an insult or a compliment. His gaze was on the carpet.

“And then my cousin comes to me, a man I have never seen in my life …” Sophia raised a brow at this. “… but high in the Allemande government, and he says, ‘I have been told you go to the Commonwealth to be married to the daughter of the Bellamys. Then I will offer you a bargain. The Red Rook is on the coast; perhaps he is on the Bellamy land. Find this Rook for me, and I will let your maman out of prison.’ ”

Sophia felt her mouth open. “Your mother is in the Tombs?”

“I am the last of my father’s line. Without me, the Hasard fortune goes to LeBlanc. But, like a miracle, Maman’s freedom will be restored just as soon as she signs away my claim and makes Albert LeBlanc her heir. Which she will never do. Or, like a miracle, if I bring him the Red Rook, then my reward shall be Maman’s release, and LeBlanc will allow the Hasard fortune to stay with the Hasards. Which, you can be assured, Mademoiselle, he will never do.”

Sophia watched René closely, her vow to keep her eyes elsewhere once again forgotten. She doubted her ability to catch him lying, but she did know anger when she saw it. His fingers were clenched together, jaw tight.

“He ought to challenge me for it, if he wants my inheritance. The laws of dueling are not so hard to understand. But perhaps my cousin does not like his odds. So he takes the easy way, thinking to use me in the Commonwealth while he waits out Maman. That she will crack in the Tombs like underfired glass. LeBlanc is an idiot about women. As if Adèle Hasard has not run the business of our family for the past eleven years …”

“Your mother runs Hasard Glass?” Sophia asked. “Herself?” She’d assumed it was one of René’s uncles, or a manager, since René’s father had died. Such a thing was unheard of in the Commonwealth, and must be nearly so in the Sunken City.

“Yes, she runs the glass factory. Some of her brothers are part owners, but we all know that Maman has the head for money. But … we have other interests as well.” René’s blue gaze finally lifted to find hers. “As we are laying our cards on the table, Mademoiselle …” He shrugged. “Mostly, the business Adèle runs is smuggling.”