Three pairs of eyes searched his, then all three boys smiled.
“Good!” Harry said. “It might be exciting, but they weren’t nice.”
“And they worry Alicia and Adriana,” David whispered.
Both his younger brothers nodded solemnly.
Smiling, Tony rose, ruffling Matthew’s hair. “You’ll do.” He exchanged a fleeting glance with Alicia; with her eyes, she indicated upstairs. He looked back at the boys. “Now you’d better go and see if they searched your rooms.” He lowered his voice. “You could help Jenkins and Maggs make sure there’s nothing around to upset your sisters.”
The boys exchanged glances. Solemnly nodded again.
They looked at Alicia. “We’re going upstairs,” David said.
She smiled encouragingly. “You can come down for tea.”
Everyone waited while the three boys filed out and closed the door behind them.
“Thank heavens,” Kit said. She looked at the men, still standing in a loose gathering in the center of the room.
“Now! We need to move quickly on this. The damage has to be contained—better yet, turned around.”
Jack and Tristan strolled forward.
Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know that it’s all that serious.” He glanced at the other men. “I can’t see that A. C. is likely to gain much from this—”
“Not your investigation!” Leonora glared at him. “That isn’t what we’re concerned about.”
Tristan blinked at her. “What, then?”
“Why the potential social disaster, of course!”
They were right—that was the most urgent threat arising from Sprigs’s visit; this time, Bow Street had come calling in daylight, and there’d been considerable activity visible from the street. Luckily, their counterstrategy was easy to devise and quickly set in train. Aside from Alicia and Adriana, there were seven of them in the room; each had multiple contacts among the grandes dames, contacts they normally avoided, yet contacts who, in this instance, once they were apprised of the situation, were very ready to come to their collective aid.
By the time that evening’s entertainments commenced, all was in place, the cannons primed.
Tony, accompanied by Geoffrey, made privy to the latest developments, escorted the ravishing Mrs. Carrington and her even more ravishing sister to a formal dinner, followed by three major balls.
They’d barely entered the first ballroom, Lady Selwyn’s, when he overheard his godmother spreading the word.
“It is quite beyond the pale!” Lady Amery’s tones were hushed yet outraged. “This secretive gentleman seeks to manipulate us, those of the haut ton, with rumors and sly tricks, to make us turn on Mrs. Carrington and drive her from town so that her fleeing our wrath will appear an admission of guilt, and so confuse the authorities and hide his infamous deeds.”
Lady Amery twitched her shawl straight, both the action and her expression indicating absolute disgust. “It is beyond anything that a gentleman should seek to use us thus.”
Wide-eyed, the Countess of Hereford had been drinking in her eloquence. “So none of the rumors is true?”
“Pshaw!” Lady Amery flicked her fingers. “Nothing more than artful lies. The reason he has focused on Mrs. Carrington is purely because she had the ill fortune to be the last person poor Ruskin spoke with before going to his death—at this very man’s hands, no less! She was attending a soirée—I ask you, what is one supposed to do at a soirée if not talk to other guests? But now the devil seeks to deceive and deflect the authorities, and to use us to accomplish his evil ends.”
“How diabolical!” The countess looked shocked.
“Indeed.” Lady Amery nodded significantly. “You can see why we—those of us who know the truth—must be vigilant in ensuring these lies are quashed.”
“Unquestionably.” Transparently horrified, Lady Hereford laid a hand on Lady Amery’s arm. “Why, if the ton could be used so easily as an instrument of harm…”
Her thoughts were easy to follow: no one would be safe.
Lifting her head, the countess patted Lady Amery’s arm. “You may rest assured, Felicité, that I’ll correct any idle talk I hear.” She gathered her skirts. “Poor Mrs. Carrington—she must be quite prostrate.”
Lady Amery waved. “As to that, she is one of us and knows how to behave—she will be here this evening, I make no doubt, and with her head high.”
“I sincerely wish her well.” Lady Hereford stood. “And will do all I can to aid her and bring this dastardly plot to nought.”
With a regal nod, which Lady Amery graciously returned, Lady Hereford stepped into the crowd.
From where he’d halted, two paces behind the chaise where his godmother sat, Tony moved quickly forward, drawing Alicia, another fascinated observer, with him. Courtesy of the dense crowd, neither recent occupant of the chaise had noticed them. Now he rounded the chaise and bowed to his godmother, then bent and kissed her cheek.
“You were superb,” he murmured as he straightened.
Lady Amery humphed. “It’s hardly difficult to act outraged when I am.” She held out her hands to Alicia, and when she took them drew her down to the chaise. “But you, chérie—I vow it is unconscionable.” She looked at Tony. “You will find him soon, yes? And then this nonsense will be over.”
“There’s a crew of us pursuing him—we’ll unmask him, never fear.”
“Bon!” Lady Amery turned to Alicia. “And now you must tell me how that lovely sister of yours is faring. Has Geoffrey Manningham truly turned her head?”
Standing beside the chaise, Tony scanned the company. A number of senior hostesses had nodded pointedly their way, their acknowledgment marked and openly so. Others less prominent had stopped by to assure Alicia of their support. The tide was already turning.
He saw Leonora and Tristan arrive, and promptly start circulating. Deeming Lady Selwyn’s event well covered, he summoned Geoffrey and Adriana with a glance, and they moved on through the crowded streets to the next major event.
The Countess of Gosford’s ball was in full swing by the time they arrived. There, they met more hostesses, more grandes dames, all supportive. Lady Osbaldestone summoned them with an imperious wave of her cane; she gave them to understand that she hadn’t had so much fun in years, and fully intended to make “the blackguard’s” attempt to use the ton against Alicia a cause célèbre.
“A judgment of sorts on our malicious ways—we’d be fools not to see it.” Her black eyes locked on the golden green of Alicia’s, she nodded curtly. “So you needn’t think to thank us—any of us. Do us the world of good to realize we’ve created a system so amenable to such dastardly manipulation. Help keep us honest.” She grimaced.
“Well, more honest.”
Switching to Tony, she fixed him with a basilisk gaze. “And how long do you expect to take to lay this villain by the heels?”
“We’re doing all we can—some things take time.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just as long as you don’t at the last seek to sweep this blackguard’s name under any rug.” Her expression was a warning. “Rest assured we—none of us—will stand for that.”
Tony smiled urbanely. “Rest assured,” he returned, “no matter who else might think otherwise, I won’t be a party to protecting him.”
His answer gave Lady Osbaldestone pause; she searched his face, then humphed, apparently appeased. “Very good. You may now take yourselves off. Indeed, I suggest a waltz—that ought to be one starting up now. Last thing you want to appear is too concerned to enjoy yourselves.”
Tony bowed; Alicia curtsied, and he led her away. To the dance floor.