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She pursed her lips, her cheeks flooding with color. “Yes. I have never been to London, you see.”

Richard’s frown deepened as his heart squeezed. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I just wanted to make certain I understood your request correctly. Consider it done. What else?”

“The second condition is that I decide when and how I break our engagement. And when I do, I do not want you to question it. In fact, I do not want your interference after that at all.”

This sounded vaguely ominous. “You need to tell me a bit more of your plan before I agree to this,” Richard protested.

She smiled. “I shall not harm anybody, I promise you that.”

“And your reputation, your person, shall be unharmed as well?”

She swallowed. “I promise.”

He studied her carefully. “Miss Fowley, I might not wish to marry you, but I do not want any harm to you or your family. I would rather be apprised of the—”

“Would you rather be apprised of my plans, or would you rather break our engagement?” She raised a brow. “You can’t have it both ways.”

Well, his bride was not the timid young thing he’d thought her to be. He studied the woman he’d promised to marry, thinking how he hadn’t even bothered to learn anything about her.

She’d turned out to be strong-willed and rather brave. They would have made an amicable match if things were different, he supposed. “Very well,” he agreed. “As you wish.”

* * *

A frantic knock at her door woke Jo from a fretful slumber. Was the knocking a part of the terrible dream? Or was it real?

Ever since her encounter with Mick, Jo was having nightmares every night. He hadn’t returned to the theater since then. Probably still licking his wounds and healing his broken pride. Or perhaps doing something more ominous.

Jo couldn’t work with him anymore after what had happened. She wondered how Selena was able to do it all this time. Jo needed to leave the theater and take Selena with her.

That wasn’t the only problem that was bothering her. Recently, Jo had noticed a man watching her from behind the shadows of the theater. At first, she’d thought that he must have been a new guard, or someone the manager had hired. But lately, she had a feeling that he was following her.

She tried to dismiss her fears. And perhaps she was just getting paranoid from fear. But a woman in her position did not have the luxury of being unaware of the men around her.

The constant fear had pushed her to collect her courage and send her plays to Covent Garden. Her theater manager didn’t want them, but perhaps, someone else would.

She’d thought she’d feel better after this, freer. But it only got worse.

Now she was anxious and every little noise frightened her.

And the incessant knocking in the middle of the night didn’t help at all. She threw a glance toward the window trying to ascertain the time. Moonlight spilled into the room, indicating that it was past midnight, but not yet morning.

Jo slid her hand beneath her pillow and palmed a small dagger with her hand. She always had it with her, and she kept it by her side at all times. She grabbed it now and tiptoed toward her door.

“Jo, open up, it’s me,” came Selena’s frantic voice.

A breath of relief left Jo’s lungs. She opened the door and Selena rushed inside.

“Is something amiss?” Jo asked as she placed the dagger on the bedside table.

“Everything is amiss,” Selena whispered furiously as she tried to untie her cloak with shaking hands.

“Let me.” Jo walked toward Selena and covered her cold hands with hers.

Selena raised her frantic eyes, gave a tiny nod, and released the cloak. Jo untied it easily and then guided Selena toward the small sitting area by the hearth. When both settled into the armchairs across from each other, she asked, “Would you like some tea?”

“No, I don’t want tea.” Selena looked up at Jo, and she finally saw Selena’s face in the light of the dying fire. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks streaked with tears.

“Tell me,” Jo prompted.