"You look piqued," Blanche said when Nicola returned to her companions.

The lingering rays of dusk cast the area in a dim molten hue and servants scuttled to light the multitudinous candles and lamps littering the grounds of the estate.

She was indeed piqued. Nicola placed a hand against her abdomen to quell the nerves stirring restlessly within and frowned. "I am feeling out of sorts," she explained and suddenly the fib came to her easily, how she would justify her disappearance. "I'll adjoin for a bit to freshen up and return shortly." Blanche's expression was concerned, but after querying after her wellbeing, acquiesced easily to allow Nicola the time she needed to meet with her brother in secret. The deception was relatively easy, but then why wouldn't it be? Nicola had never given her companion reason to suspect she was partaking in behaviour that was decidedly risqué... it was not something she had ever indulged before.

She didn't like keeping secrets from Blanche... but the idea of her ever discovering about her secret longings for her roguish brother was laughable. She was sure Blanche would find it as such, in any event, and she couldn't stand to endure the torment of her closest friend thinking she a fool.

Her next obstacle was to move unnoticed through the party and follow Jason's route. If she didn't know the Northwick grounds, she would be problematically lost, but she did so Nicola climbed the steps to the topmost terrace and veered to her right, the same way she had ventured the day of the Dowager Marchioness's visit. The trail that sloped from the stairs at the side of the manor house would fork and the right would link with the route Jason had taken if she had deduced correctly.

She had to move carefully in the foliage, mindful of her skirts as they gathered debris from the ground. Light was dimmer inside the woodlands, her eyes taking some time to adjust to the darkness, while the twinkling lights from hundreds of tiny candles and lanterns blinked and flickered through the leaves of the trees, which was why she did not see him at first.

"Gather your skirts, darling," Jason drawled from somewhere to her side, causing her to start and squeak in surprise.

Heart hammering with the fright he'd given her, Nicola scowled at him. He emerged from the shadows of a pine tree, his teeth white amid a sultry grin as he stalked her. "The sounds you make when you are startled," he mused aloud, his eyes glowing in the dark, "are positively adorable."

"If you continue to sneak up on me, I'll surely perish from fright," she admonished.

His eyes with glinting with mirth, but he simply held out his hand and repeated, "Gather your skirts, Nicki."

"Why?"

"I don't want to return you to the party with a soiled dress." He gestured to her train gathered in the soft mulch at their feet. "We don't have much time."

She snorted and hastily bundled the material in one hand, finding herself for the second time in two days exposing her stockinged legs to him, though it was decidedly darker this time with less for him to peruse. Once that was done, Jason grasped her free hand, his fingers clasping hers intimately, and with a look full of promise, he began to run.

Her protest died on her lips with a gasp, because too soon she was smiling and tripping into step behind him. It was a light trot, not too fast, but enough to ensure adequate ground was covered and he tugged her along, their feet light and sure over paths they had each taken plenty of times over, but never together. He stopped briefly to help guide her over a fallen log, holding her hand high and assisting her with her skirts, which made them both laugh, and then they were running again, deeper into the forest. The moment was magical and Nicola felt devilish and free, her feet flying underneath her and after his, while the world danced with shadows and twinkling ethereal lights, the ambient blue haze of dusk tinging the green world with its luminescence. The hushed laughter that they shared was natural, his hand squeezing hers with gentle encouragement.

Until he stopped and listened closely, and suddenly Nicola understood why he had insisted they run, insisted they head deeper into the forest. Sounds of people, couples mostly, drifted through the leaves and trees. It became very clear that they weren't the only guests seeking private refuge in the ample coverage of the Northwick forests.

Regardless, she had enjoyed the run, and she had enjoyed running with him. With their formal attire and wings, they must have flitted like two magical creatures through the bracken. The notion made her smile giddily.

He noticed it and smiled too.

"I have never noticed this wild spirit of yours before, Nicki," he admitted softly.

Her lungs were heaving slightly as they gradually recovered from their impromptu sprint through the forest, and she leaned against the trunk of a mossy tree. Shadows crept over them and she could hardly make him out before her. Carefully, she lowered her skirts over the bracken that blanketed the floor around them. "Perhaps that is a good thing," she said.

"No, I don't believe it is. Although I have a feeling that not many know these things about you."

"Blanche does."

"Blanche is a wild thing herself, so that is fitting." He studied her and came forward, leaning on the other side of the trunk, right beside her. "It is not a bad thing, you know."

"Not scandalous at all?" she laughed lightly.

"Not to me." He met her gaze, his grin wolfish. "We will be sure to exercise more caution in the future, however. I would hate for somebody to find you like this and put a stop to your wildness."

"They can certainly try."

His eyes widened at that, and he chuckled. "Vixen." He nudged her playfully with his shoulder.

"I believe, my lord, that you requested this secret rendezvous to discuss certain matters pertaining to your plan," she pressed, aware that they were on borrowed time. As much as she wanted to stay the night here with him, she knew well that her absence would be marked soon if she did not return.

"Ah, so we have regressed." Through the darkness, she felt his eyes flicker over her face. "And here I had thought that we were friends."

"We are," she said agreeably. "But that doesn't mean I should be improper."

"You've flown through the forest with me with your skirts raised above your knees, Nicki," he muttered dryly, "I rather think we are beyond that."

"Tell me of your plan and I will consider it."

He sighed, vexed. "Very well, woman. You drive a hard bargain but here it is. With your help, of course, I should very much like to decipher the author of the letters I have in my possession."

She swallowed, ignoring the dread that swarmed through her. "And you have no idea who could have written them?" she hedged, scrutinising him carefully as best she could.

"Not a clue."

"Why not ask Blanche to help you?"

He gave her a pained look. "She would never let me hear the end of it, and you know it."

That was true. Blanche and Jason would be ribbing each other until the day one of them died. He hardly needed to give his incorrigible sister ammunition to fuel the fire. "Fair enough," Nicola assented. "So that leaves us where exactly?"

"The content of the letters are unnervingly specific," he explained neutrally. "The girl knows me and knows events I have attended in the past, so that leads me to believe she is somebody who would be in attendance at events like this one, and this is a perfect place to start."

"You wish to start now?" Nicola hated how coils of something ugly twisted in her chest at the thought of Jason looking and potentially courting another girl that was presently here, at Lady Blackwood's picnic.

"Of course," he said. "It only makes sense. If the letters have been elaborating on events that the girl saw me at, then she could very well be in attendance."

"How can you be so sure that the author is indeed a girl?" Nicola said archly. The look he gave her was exceedingly dry.

"It's a girl."

"Alright, so how do you propose to begin today then?"

He studied her carefully. "With the help of your list, of course, and attending two more events, with you. So from your list, we can deduce the likelihood of the author by the ladies who are similarly in attendance at the events we attend."

"In order to be sure of her identity, wouldn't you then need more letters pertaining to this event and the other events that you wish to attend?"

He tapped the side of his nose and gave her a cocky grin. "I am sure, from how my secret admirer writes, that in all likelihood she will be, or contrive to be, at any and every event I attend."

Nicola swallowed, trying not to let her misery reflect in her voice when she spoke. "So other than this one, which other events will you require my presence?"

"I was thinking the opera, the night after next. Our private box seats will allow for an intimate view over all the attendees."

"And the third?" Nicola pressed.

His eyes were shining like starlight as his lips formed the words, "The masquerade at the Henley Rooms."

She stirred at that, wondering what he was about. The patronesses at the Henley Rooms were staunch about admissions and procuring one for herself and for Blanche would require some excessive needling and preening on Lady Blackwood's part... and that is only if she deigned it appropriate for her youngest daughter and her best friend to attend. "The last may pose... obstacles," she told him.

"I have already written and requested permission for the Marquis of Northwick and his guests to attend," Jason explained. "It's done."

Nicola had only ever been to one masquerade ball and it had been a small, tame affair compared to what she had heard of the Henley Rooms.

"Don't look so worried," Jason chuckled, touching her chin lightly with his forefinger. "I'll protect you."

From what? "I am not worried."

"Liar." His voice was light and cajoling. Around them, voices drifted through the forest from a distance, the sounds of music and chatter on the lawns far away. "Now, suppose you have that list I requested?"

Ah, of course. Fighting off a wave of nausea, Nicola sighed and crossed her arms testily. "I did not write anything down, but I can name a few from the top of my head," she told him.

"Let's hear it, then. From the ladies in attendance here."

He waited patiently and Nicola pursed her lips. Bitterness wasn't something she entertained often but if he agreed to a name that she was about to recite to him, she might throw her head back and howl at the moon. "Well, there is Miss Abigail Venables-"

"No."

"No?" Nicola repeated, raising her brow at him. "Why not?"

"Does it matter why not? I said no. Besides, she wasn't in attendance at the Crosthwaite ball. There is a letter that specifically references that event not so long ago."

"Well then, Miss Jane Lambert wouldn't be applicable as well."

"Certainly not."

"Miss Maria Payne."

"No."

"Miss Anastasia Abbot-"

"No."

"Jason, are you going to say yes to any of the names I give you?"

His eyes glistened at the use of his name. "When you give me a name I wish to hear, then I will do so."

She sighed and rattled off another ten names of women who were present at the picnic today, all dismissed without any consideration or second thought. Finally, she harrumphed and gave him a glare. "I can't think of anyone else here that you'd approve of considering you have dismissed all of the fine and pretty young ladies so far," she grumbled, but his head had cocked suddenly to the side and his body tensed, alert.

"What-"

Her words were cut off abruptly, his hand against her mouth to silence her. His face leaned in close to hers, her vision consumed with the intensity of his eyes that were bright like the stars, hooded in the shadows of his brow. He stepped in close to her body, pushing her shoulders back against the bark of the tree she was leaning against, her wings bending and meshing flat, and Nicola felt her eyes go wide with question, her body stiffen in response to his proximity.

But then she heard it, the voices drifting closer, so very close already. Two gentlemen, by the sound of it, talking loudly over each other as they stumbled along the path Jason and Nicola had run down, their footsteps heavy and thrashing the bracken fronds without consideration. They were so close there was no way they would be able to sneak off or run away without being identified, and should she be seen alone with Jason Blackwood in the dark recesses of the Northwick forest...

Jason understood this, let her know with his eyes as he angled and shifted his large body to cover hers, to shield her from sight. It was alright for him to be seen like this, almost anybody would expect the rakish Marquis of Northwick to be found in an amorous embrace, but Nicola would be ruined wholly and completely.

There was a thunder in her ears, her heart, and frantic terror she felt at the situation couldn't even be dispelled by how hot she was feeling, his body a fiery and hard length against hers.

"I say, is that you, Blackwood?" one voice called out, closer now than before. Nicola sucked in a hard breath against Jason's hand, and he cursed with quiet vehemence.

Suddenly, his hand dropped from her mouth.

And then the unthinkable happened and life as she knew it came to an end.

Jason Blackwood kissed her.