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improvements extend to the grounds?”
    “The gardens were in a shocking state when I came to Covington Hall, but I’ve had them entirely redone.”
    “Including that faux ruin near the eastern pond? I imagine you’ve razed that old eyesore.”
    Michael’s attention sharpened further.
    Lady Cowan, however, blushed. “Alas, no. It’s so far away from the main house, and no one visits there any longer. I never let the children go.”
    “But it’s still there,” Larkfield pressed.
    “In truth, I’d forgotten about that ruin for years until just now. Perhaps it’s time for a change.”
    “Certainly not until the weather warms,” Larkfield said.
    Lady Cowan agreed, but then conversation died between her and Larkfield. Then the ladies retired, and the gentlemen were left to their cigars and brandy. Some of the footmen also left to attend the women, though Michael remained behind.
    If he’d hoped that drink and tobacco would loosen Larkfield’s tongue, he was out of luck. Lord Cowan had as much success drawing his cousin out as his wife did. Michael hovered close, waiting for the smallest hint about Larkfield’s crime, but the damn toff kept himself closed tight.
    Once the men rose and left to join the ladies, Michael and the others cleaned and made the room ready for the next day. Then everyone retreated back below stairs. Michael wanted to look for Ada immediately. To tell her about what he’d learned. And to learn more about her. He had to attend to the rest of his duties first, but when this was finally done, he went to the servants’ hall.
    She was mending a tear at the cuff of a shirt. He made his tread heavier than normal, so that she glanced up when he entered the room. A few other servants sat at the table. When he was certain that no one but Ada looked at him, he mouthed the words broom cupboard . Her response was to tap her finger once on the table, then she returned to her work.
    With everyone busy with their own tasks, Michael slipped into the broom cupboard. He’d examined it earlier and found it a decent enough place to meet, though small. The closet couldn’t have been more than three by three feet, and lined with brushes, brooms, and pails. It had no window and no lamps. Which he wouldn’t have lit anyway, unless he wanted to blare a message: secret meeting here .
    He shut the door behind him and waited in the dark.
    Minutes later, the door open and shut. He had a quick image of Ada’s shape before the cupboard plunged back into darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but the closet’s size forced them to stand with barely any room between them. He felt her skirts against his legs, the warmth of her body. As she shifted to get more comfortable, her chest rubbed against his, and he bit back a groan. It was an agony to suppress his own wants when he didn’t know hers. When he had no idea what they were to each other besides partners for Nemesis. She tensed at the contact, but there wasn’t anywhere for her to retreat.
    Was this pleasure or punishment?
    “You picked this spot on purpose,” she whispered. Her breath glided over his chin.
    “This hour of the night,” he said quietly, “the housemaids don’t need this gear. Nobody will poke their heads in and interrupt us.”
    “Answers come awful easy to you.”
    “When they’re the truth—yes.”
    “Nemesis taught you how to lie,” she countered.
    “When necessary. Otherwise, I’m as plainspoken as a carpenter.”
    “Then speak plainly now,” she said. “But I’ll start first. If you try to kiss me again, I’ll find a very cozy, snug place for my knee. Right between your legs.”
    He winced. And decided not to tell her that part of his training with Nemesis included combat practice. He’d be able to easily deflect a blow from an unskilled fighter like Ada. But the feeling behind her words was the verbal equivalent of a hit to his stones.
    “I won’t kiss you,” he said. “Not until you ask for it.”
    She gave a cutting