Cass stood on tiptoe. Not that she needed to, when the thick rug was soundless. But have Devorlane Hawley coming in here and finding her, raking about in his belongings, when she was supposed to be pinning her hair after the accident with the fan? She couldn't risk it. Imagine the slat getting caught in it like that? How very inconvenient. And just as the coach clattered up to the door to take them to the dance too.
No. Having gained the advantage, she fully intended to keep it. There was the time she'd caught him in her bedroom in the monk's cell. Why let him feel that same smugness? It was why she hadn't even brought a candle, trusting only to the pale beam of light shafting through the adjoining door.
Hearing a burst of laughter beneath the window, she paused. The ghost of memories-to
