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Alan De’Ath made her feel more than any Botticelli, more than any batch of shortbread. And she’d disappeared, without a word of explanation.

But then, there was so much she hadn’t explained.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Her first, foolish instinct was to duck behind the pile. But the tread was delicate. No police constable had such a light step.

Ruby swept into the studio with a tray, on which she’d balanced a teapot, two cups, and the biscuit tin.

“Lor’,” said Ruby, eyes climbing the pile. “You’ve been busy. Laddie says the plaster’s shaking down on his head. Keep this up and you’ll collapse the floor.”

“I’m going to haul it all out.”

“Then what?” Ruby set the tea tray on a paint-smeared table that stood by the upholstered chair, big and battered, Jack’s throne.

Nina bit her lip. “Toss it in the river?”

“You need a cart, then. Have you asked Laddie?”

“No.” Nina was hit with a wave of exhaustion. She dropped into the chair. Ruby put a cup of tea in her hand.

“I’ll see to the cart,” Ruby said. “Could be Jack’ll turn up, though. He usually does.” She frowned. “Like a bad penny.”

Nina shifted in the chair. Jack’s throne had lumps.

“He might turn up,” Nina acknowledged. “But either way, we’re done. I’ve told him.” Her voice dwindled. “I’ve told him and told him and told him.”

Ruby nodded, her sympathy plain.

“You sit,” said Ruby. “You ain’t eaten a thing, I can tell. Fritz neither.” She opened the biscuit tin and handed a pastry to the marmoset. He was nestled in a smock Nina had left wadded by her easel. “And what do we have here?” She stooped and picked up a sheaf of papers, unsalable sketches in the style of Veronese.

Nina let out a helpless groan.

“Right,” said Ruby smartly. “Might as well burn what we can.”

She bustled to the fireplace.

Nina sipped the overdrawn tea and felt herself calm. She lacked a Sisterhood, sure. But she had Ruby Ladbrooke, and that was something. She watched Ruby pitch the papers into the fire. Her auburn hair seemed threaded with flames.

Ruby was fiery and fast. She kissed men, and had done more, and never minded much about it.

What would Ruby say if Nina confessed that De’Ath had gotten under her skin, and that his tongue had been inside her mouth?

“Birdie!”

Jack’s bellow made her jump. Tea sloshed onto her hand.

He strode through the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“About time you blew in.” Ruby slapped at the smoke. “Poor Nina was worried sick.”

“Is that so?” Jack smiled, a flinty-eyed, dimpled smile that made Nina’s stomach drop. “She wouldn’t be worried if she was where she was supposed to be.”

“And where were you?” asked Ruby.

“Jealous, my treasure?” Jack knocked his hair back, revealing red-threaded eyes. Stubble gritted his jawline. “I missed you sorely meself. Now, get out.”

Ruby’s shoulders went up around her ears. She curled her hand. She looked ready to strike.