Lizbeth's eyes cut to mine as if she was trying to figure out if I was lying or trying to trap her. "I have met Lord Drighton, yes," she murmured, watching me warily.
"Is he going to be around much? Because I think he's gross."
Her eyes bulged and she gave a little cough that I suspected was to cover her shock. "He is… not pleasant, I agree," she whispered, then her eyes darted around as if she was afraid of who might have heard her say it.
"I had a thought that we could make a pact together," I said, because I had been thinking about her, though not as much as I should have, between David's confessions and my own thirst for him. "I was thinking that we could… have a signal. Or maybe a plan. If he comes back—or anyone else like him. We could… be there for each other. Let each other know if we meet men who aren't… safe."
