These Vicious Masks: A Swoon Novel(52)

“I don’t find him particularly unique,” I cheerfully lied.

He waved his folded program as if it contained his proof, and he almost hit a passing couple. “I doubt you’ll find anyone in London who is better.”

“I especially liked his Hamlet,” Laura proclaimed. “And last year’s King Lear.”

“Oh yes, I saw King Lear four times!”

“How unfortunate for you,” I said, finding my role as a cynical baiter rather easy and enjoyable.

“I find it an unfortunate shame that you feel that way. You are missing out,” he returned, straining to remain polite.

“Yes, honestly. You should be more agreeable.” Laura’s voice had a sickening shade of honey in it when she turned back to Mr. Edwards.

“Did you know that they originally planned to stage The Merchant of Verona last year?” Mr. Edwards asked, looking at Laura with a speculative glint in his eye.

“Truly?” Laura asked, looking utterly shocked—and not at his error. Heavens. Who would have thought this would actually work? She didn’t even need my help. The two blathered on, both agreeing that Mr. Edwards was deeply fascinating, while I just stood and watched, silently amused, until someone brushed by my back and a familiar tremor ran up my spine.

“Pardon me.”

Mr. Braddock. I spun around to see him slinking away from me, while awkwardly keeping a safe distance from others. His slow gait was enough to fool almost everyone else, but I could see the attempts to hide his pain in every step. Why had he come in this condition?

“Excuse me, Laura, Mr. Edwards,” I said and stepped away before there was an objection.

I marched across the room toward him, keeping my eyes on his feet, struggling not to make a scene with the hundreds of people surrounding us. I seized his jacket and pulled him into an alcove. We were a snug fit, and I couldn’t help but be acutely aware of him and the few inches of breath that separated us. The bitter scent of medicinal herbs seemed to sharpen all my senses.

“What is it? What are you doing here?” I hissed.

He leveled his gaze, chin up, and when he spoke it was determined, as if he had been waiting all day to tell me. “This morning, you said guilt can be effective motivation . . . and, well, I’m feeling too motivated to sit by idly. I’ve made terrible decisions that I regret to no end, and you have every right to distrust me, but I can only apologize and try to do some good by finding Miss Rosamund before any harm or pain comes to her.” His eyes refused to drop mine.

“And what? You decided Rose was probably an actress in Much Ado About Nothing? Or are you simply here for your own fun?”

“Is this outing with Mr. Kent part of your search?” His eyes flashed with something that looked suspiciously like jealousy as he drained a glass of liquor in his hand.

“Don’t be absurd. We can’t all just mysteriously vanish from society for a year. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“And I am upholding our bargain. I am following a man connected to Dr. Beck.”

I stiffened. “What? Do you have more information? Why did you not inform me?”

“I am informing you now. It is a delicate situation, so I must handle it myself.”

“What is it?” I whispered, pitching my voice low. “You cannot keep something like this from—”

“When Dr. Beck was trying to convince me to join him, he wanted me to meet this man. I never did, but Camille’s mention of Dr. Beck’s funding last night made me consider their relationship. I believe he may be the benefactor or part of a society funding Dr. Beck’s research.”

It seemed we had the same thought. “Who is he? What is his name? What society?” The words tumbled from my mouth as I looked around for this man I knew nothing about.

“I’ll spare you the details,” he said with an infuriatingly condescending glint to his eyes. “We can’t startle him. If he is funding Dr. Beck’s work, he will undoubtedly be secretive about it.”

“And you think he is in attendance?”

“He is.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Absolutely not. This is far too dangerous.” I thought he was about to take my hand, but he pulled his own back and stuffed it in his pocket, looking uncomfortable.

“It’s dangerous to everyone around you if I don’t come,” I persisted. “You’ll be sitting in a row of sick, unconscious people, or is that part of your testing—” He paled so much that I immediately regretted the words.

“I purchased seats in different parts of the theater and will move every hour. But by all means, continue. The guiltier I feel, the less likely I’ll be to give you life-endangering information.”

“Ah, so that’s what you’re doing? Protecting me by neglecting to mention this mysterious man’s name? Like you kept the fact that Dr. Beck has a power from me? Ha!”

At those words, he fixed me with such an intense stare, it seemed as if the rest of his world lost all significance. “What did you say?”

It was strange to see him so perturbed. “You did not know?”

He shook his head urgently. As quickly as I could pour out the information, I explained Miss Grey’s sudden arrival, her abilities, and her visions of Dr. Beck.

“And she has no idea of what the power may be?” he asked at the end of it.