Page 63 of The Notorious Lady

Ford blinked and shook his head, trying to dispel the image from his mind, but it had permanently etched itself to the back of his eyes. Curious what other treasures were buried within those papers, Ford grabbed another sheet to inspect—

A floorboard creaked in the hallway.

Ford instantly stilled, the paper clamped between his fingers, straining to hear more. There… the barest whisper of movement, a soft scuff of leather on wood.

He glanced out the window onto the quiet street. No horses were waiting for their owners, no carriage had brought any visitors. The silence with which the intruder managed to enter the house told Ford that the person was most likely alone.

Good news. He could overpower a single assailant.

Ford dropped the piece of paper and gripped the handle of his dagger as he pulled it out of the sheath and moved silently toward the exit. Flattening his back against the wall beside the door frame, he glanced up and down the corridor only to see nothing.

There had to be someone out there. He could’ve sworn he’d heard the movement. Ford’s fingers tightened around the reassuring weight of his dagger, holding it close to his side when—

Crash!

A blur of motion exploded from the other room into the hallway, all whirling limbs and flashing steel. Ford blocked the wild knife thrust with his own dagger, dodging one blow after another as he attempted to move out of the narrow corridor. In the pitch-black darkness, the fight quickly devolved into a maelstrom of grunts and the sharp clink of blades whickering together.

The mysterious assailant fought ferociously. He wasn’t big and his strength was inferior to Ford’s. What he lacked in power, however, he more than compensated for in speed and precision. There was no movement out of place. Every cut and thrust of the blade was calculated and exact. Ford could not see the attacker in the darkness, but there was something… familiar in his movements.

A lithe, predatory grace that he’d seen before. The movement that flowed seamlessly as if in a dance was almost feminine.

Triss?

An odd thought flicked through his mind. And it was enough to distract him. In the next moment, the assailant pushed Ford against the wall and pressed the cool steel blade of his— her?—dagger against Ford’s neck.

There was a pause with no sound but the heavy breathing of both Ford and the person pressing a blade to his throat.

Then a soft voice cut through the tense silence, “Ford?”

Ford blinked and squinted at the dark figure before him. “Grace?”

* * *

Grace instantly pulled the dagger away and took a step back. “What are you doing here?” A part of her hummed in happiness from seeing him again.

“I could be asking you the same question,” Ford grumbled and rubbed his neck where the blade had rested a moment ago.

“I live here.”

“It can’t be safe for you to be here.” He looked around the dark house. “I thought you fled. Thomas said you collected your belongings and left.”

She huffed a breath. “I dare you to show me a place that is safe for me at the moment.” A pause. “I came here to see if I could figure out who took Harmony. I noticed an intruder and decided I could confront him—you.”

“By yourself?” Ford’s lips twisted in anger.

What did it matter to him? “What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have come to me!” He ran a hand through his hair, irritation obvious on his face.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously.” He snorted.

“You don’t think I can?”

“I think you’re incredibly foolish if you think you can deal with this on your own.”

She reared back. Foolish? “Did you just call me foolish and incompetent?”