This was proving to be an impossible situation. She wanted to run away—to what or from whom? Maybe after tonight, he could convince her to stay. Her passionate response to him made him realize it might be harder to let her go than he had originally planned. And now the new complication of the dagger. Alec had informed him that the dagger given to her by her uncle had been stolen from her while she stayed in London. How how it reappeared in a creek? He picked up the dagger lying by his side to examine it. When he returned to his room, he had retrieved it from a hidden spot behind a brick in the fireplace. The dagger many people sought. He turned it over in his hands, noticing the hilt’s silver shine in the candlelight, but the luster had worn off in places. Empty scrolled indentations marked where gems might have slept, long since nicked off. The dagger itself showed signs of rust, although the edge was still quite sharp. Rather unprepossessing, he thought. His fingers traced every hole, scroll, design, and pock, worn clean, on the hilt, until his finger nudged a tiny slivered button.
