Page 49 of A Lady’s Guide to Witchcraft

“Hell no.”

It was a logical reason. One she could trust more than whatever was burning between them. Her body might want to lean toward him like a sunflower following the sun, but that was no reason to trust him with her sister’s life. Even if she did, somehow.

His own self-interest was a smarter thing to trust.

“But we should trust you?” she asked softly, regardless.

“Hell no,” he said again. “But I don’t mean your sister any harm.”

“You held a dagger to my throat.” And why had it given her a secret thrill? She clearly needed a cleansing. A bucket of salt. Iron shavings on her breakfast oats.

“I did.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” She was outraged all over again. There had not been even a hint of apology.

“It was necessary.”

“Necessary?” No one had ever made her screech in quite this manner before.

His mouth twitched as if he were aware of it, as if it might amuse him.

She began to contemplate murder.

He looked as though he was aware of that too.

“Twyla would have killed you on the spot if she thought there was any kindness between us.”

Was that what was between them? Kindness? She didn’t think so. It was too hungry for that, untamed and more tempting than sonnets and courtship rituals and kisses on the back of her hand. The pull made her limbs feel shivery and hot.

Ethan grunted. “And then you went and released her Black Shuck and all my efforts were wasted.”

“Oh.” She thought she might believe him. When she glanced at Bramble, she only shrugged.

“But we’ll never get her out of here unseen,” Briar said, back to the matter at hand. Back to what truly mattered. Petal. “Even if we take the cliff path, there’s bound to be a Keeper lurking back there. And who knows where Lord Coventry is hiding.”

“Coventry is too honorable to hide outside the house of a woman alone,” Ethan said. “And you’ve got the very earth beneath our feet answering to you,” he added. “I’ve got the sky and the sea. They can’t see through the green and the storm. Not all at once.”

It could work.

It had to work.

It was all they had.

Briar glanced again at Bramble, who watched him quietly. “And my sisters will help.”

“They will?” Briar asked.

“As they can. Petal stole the moon to prove herself to them. To be my betrothed. She is one of us now.”

Briar sighed. “That’s all very romantic, but I do rather wish she had written you a sonnet instead.”

But no one, not villager, not Keeper, not museum curator, would ever expect Petal Foxglove to be on the Dragon’s ship.

Briar could not think of any place safer.

Which was odd.

She nodded. “It’s nearly twilight. That will help as well.”