The Conspiracy of Us (The Conspiracy of Us 1)

My gaze lingered on the cut of the tuxedo jacket hugging his shoulders and tapering to his waist. How was it possible that he got better looking every time I saw him, and that, as much as I tried not to, I still noticed? And still couldn’t stop remembering the feel of his hands cupping my face, me running my fingers through his hair.

The only thing that feels right is as wrong as it can get, he’d said.

It drove me crazy that I wasn’t angry. That half of me wanted to slip my hand into his and face everything together, as a we again. But the other half wanted to forget anything could ever possibly happen between us. The wanting—and not having—hurt too much, and that was exactly why I’d always tried to avoid it.

I made my way toward Jack, the music getting louder as I came up beside him.

He whipped around, and his eyes, behind his mask, went from high alert to relief—and what I could swear was something more as he took in my dress.

It stabbed into my gut. “Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” His voice was nearly drowned out by the swell of the violins.

I waited for the music to sink back to a normal volume and glanced back at the dance floor. Jack had chosen this spot well—nobody seemed to be watching us at the moment. “Madame Dauphin wants Stellan to hide me away and interrogate me.”

“What?” Jack pushed his mask to the top of his head and led me to a small bar table in a dark corner.

I took my own mask off, carefully detangling the strap from my hair. “I don’t know exactly what she suspects, but she knows something’s going on.”

Jack tapped his mask against the table and frowned. “Well, now that you’ve told me, they won’t be able to get away with it, but I’d rather they not even try. Do you want me to talk to Stellan about Fitz by myself? I’ll get one of our security staff to watch out for you until I get back.”

The orchestra struck up a waltz. I tucked a curl behind my ear, looking behind me again. “No,” I said. “I want to hear what he says. I think we talk to him, you stay with me so he can’t do anything, and then I get out of here.”

“You don’t want to try to find your father?” The candles in the center of the table cast flickering shadows on Jack’s face.

I frowned. I didn’t realize he knew that was my plan. Besides, that was looking like a dead end, too, unless everyone took their masks off. “I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight.”

Jack took a breath. “Avery, I should tell you—”

“Jack Bishop,” a girl’s voice said teasingly. Jack whipped around.

A girl about my age sashayed toward us in a red dress with a cascade of ruffles that ended in a mermaid hem. She pushed sideswept dark bangs off a feathered red mask. Jack locked his hands behind his back.

“What are you doing back here?” she asked, in a pretty, proper British accent.

Jack glanced back at me. “Lydia,” he said. “I was . . . Lydia, this is Avery West. Avery, meet Lydia Saxon.”

My fingers tightened on the mask in my hand. Lydia Saxon. Alistair Saxon’s daughter, I assumed.

“Avery West? As in, the cousin we’ve heard about but not yet seen? Where have you been hiding her?” She gave Jack a playful shove and turned to me. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” There was something disconcerting about this girl. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I could swear she was looking at me funny, too.

“Jack,” Lydia said. She looked me up and down so quickly, I would have missed it if I hadn’t been watching her. “My father wants to speak with you. I’m sure he and Cole will want to meet Avery, too.”

“Thanks, Lydia.” Jack gave her a tight smile. Unlike Stellan and Elodie with Luc, Jack seemed to actually treat Lydia as his employer. “We’ll be just one second.”

Lydia waved her fingers and headed back onto the dance floor. When she was far enough away that I shouldn’t have been watching her anymore, she shot one last glance over her shoulder and frowned.

“Let’s find Stellan quickly, then,” Jack said. He was all efficiency, but I could sense the tension in his face. “It sounds like the Saxons are looking for me. Cole is Lydia’s twin brother. They’re Alistair Saxon’s children.”

Jack seemed to only ramble like this when he was nervous. I watched Lydia go. “You didn’t tell her anything about me, did you?”

Jack looked around the dance floor distractedly. “What?”

“Did you see the way she looked at me?”

“Avery.” Jack slipped his mask inside his jacket and turned to me. “No. I did not tell her anything.”

I let out a breath through my teeth as the orchestra started a fast song. I pointed to where I’d seen Stellan disappear and slipped my own mask back on. “Last time I saw him, he was over there. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it.”

Jack left a few seconds ahead of me so we wouldn’t be seen together again. I followed his back toward the other side of the dance floor when a man stepped in front of me. He was middle-aged, with a red face, a blue mask, and a shock of blond curls, and he grabbed my hand with a grin and pulled me toward the dance floor.

“Oh,” I said, resisting. “No, I—”

“What?” the man yelled, yanking us into place at the end of a line of couples. Three couples down, an older lady with snow-white hair and a bird mask held both of Jack’s hands. I met his eyes, but then everyone around me clapped twice, and the blond man spun me and I lost Jack in the crowd.

I gave a silent thanks to my mom for forcing me to take ballroom-dance classes years ago, and foxtrotted across the floor. All the couples ended up in a circle, and then the whole crowd clapped again and my partner released me down the line. I tried to find Jack, but all the twirling tuxedos looked the same. The next guy in the circle, with smiling eyes behind a sky-blue mask, was already holding out his hand, and I took it reluctantly, searching the crowd over his shoulder as the dance continued.

And then another new partner, and another, one in dark robes rather than a suit, squeezing my hand so hard, I was afraid he’d break my fingers, the next younger than me, and stepping on the hem of my dress as we ran through an arch made of everyone’s hands. I tried to escape every time we changed partners, but kept getting swept back up. How much longer could this dance go on?