I winced. “So the baron’s valet could be—”
“Anywhere the baron needs him,” Emma finished.
But if von Steubfeld planned to meet Snelling, rather than trust the task to his valet, we could end up following the wrong man. I told them what I’d learned from Lady Bennett about the baron’s nocturnal activities for that night.
“How can I help?” Phyllida asked.
“Where would you normally be?” My knowledge of balls was extremely thin. There wasn’t much need for a middle-class bookshop owner to be aware of the protocol for a country house ball, and it was limiting my effectiveness.
“I could watch the dancing. I’m sure there will be a card room set up in a parlor. I could read in the library if there isn’t a young couple using it.”
“We have the ballroom covered. Too well covered. Could you move between the library and the card room? I don’t expect the baron’s valet or the baron to slip out from either of those rooms, but it will give you a clear view of the hallway.”
“With a side door at the end of it,” Emma added.
“And if I see one of them leave? What do you want me to do?” Phyllida sounded half-thrilled and half-terrified.
“Find me or the duke or Sir William immediately. I’ll introduce you to Sir William as soon as he arrives. He’s a handy young man who works for the Foreign Office,” I added at Phyllida’s confused expression when I mentioned Sir William.
“And I’m to wait up here?” Emma asked.
We needed a better use of Emma’s talents. “How would you like to be Cinderella? You can’t come into the house from the garden until after the ball starts, but there will be so many people there, you should be able to blend into the crowd.” I gave her a wide smile.
“Nonsense. Emma could never blend in. Not with her good looks,” Phyllida said.
“But what red-blooded man is going to question Emma’s right to be at the ball? Especially if she’s dressed the part,” I asked.
Phyllida nodded in agreement. “You two are about the same size. Let’s see what you have in your wardrobe that will suit our mystery guest.”
“Do you have your good corset with you?” I asked as I looked at the gowns I’d brought with me. Phyllida had counseled me to pack everything I could because there was no way of knowing what I’d need. In retrospect, she was brilliant.
“Of course. I wear it with the plum-colored day dress that is supposed to be a castoff from you.” Emma studied my gowns and selected the light blue. “You can’t call me Emma, since someone will likely put two and two together.”
“Eugenie,” Phyllida said. “It sounds exotic. And I should be able to remember that, since it’s close.”
Not as close as Georgia and Georgina, and she’d had trouble remembering my false name. Still, if she felt comfortable calling Emma by Eugenie, I wouldn’t complain. “Get anything you might need from your room and come back here. Once you’re dressed for the ball, you’ll have to stay here until dinner is nearly over and then you can slip into the garden undetected.”
Emma nodded. “I’ll float between the gardens and indoors?”
“Yes. There will be guests from other house parties and local gentry. Try to deflect any questions on which group you’re with. Play mysterious.”
“Any man who is spending all his energy trying to find out who you are is not involved in espionage. Ignore him,” Phyllida added.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA left to get what she needed from her room while I went next door with Phyllida to assist her with her corset. When Emma returned, bread and an apple stolen from the kitchen tucked into her bundle, Phyllida was ready to have her hair dressed.
By the time we moved into my room, Phyllida was ready in a matronly wine-colored gown liberally decorated with black lace and ropes of pearls. She helped both of us into our ball gowns, mine dark green and Emma’s the light blue. Both of the dresses were off the shoulder and showing a great deal of cleavage.
“Remember, there’s a man in your life. You couldn’t wear that dress if you were shopping for your first husband,” Phyllida warned Emma.
“Perhaps I’m a merry widow,” Emma said with a smile as she looked at her reflection in the full-length glass.
I thought of Rosamond Peters and Clara Gattenger and their secret. No one was merry in those events. “You’d better make up your mind on your story. You’re going to be drawing men like moths to a flame.”
Looking in the glass, I decided I looked nice. Maybe even pretty. However, Emma was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Maybe I’ll avoid notice,” Emma said as she began to work on my hair.
“I doubt it. Do you know where Sumner is supposed to be?”
Emma yanked on my hair. “He’s gone.”
“But why? He should get to see you in that gown,” Phyllida said.
“Well, he won’t.” She gave a loud sniff.
I knew I’d risk being bald by the time we finished this conversation, but I had to find out. “What has happened? Where did he go?”
“Sumner’s gone back to town. Blackford’s orders. Jacob’s going to approach the clerk he thinks is the leak in the Admiralty records room with new evidence the Archivist Society’s uncovered. Jacob’s going to try to force the clerk to confess. Sumner has been ordered to shadow them while members of the Archivist Society are watching the garden here.”
“Far be it from me to correct a duke, but why didn’t he have Fogarty or one of our other Archivist Society members tail Jacob?”
“He sent Sumner because he doesn’t trust Fogarty to do the job properly.” Emma made a face but didn’t say another word. She finished my hair, did her own in a simple upsweep that Phyllida decorated with a few jewels, and pointedly stared at us, waiting for our departure.
I answered a knock on my door to find the duke, elegantly attired in evening clothes, waiting for me. I made a small gesture with my head and he entered my room, his eyes widening when he saw Emma.
“This is Eugenie, a mysterious guest. She’ll enter the gardens while we’re having dinner,” I told him.
“She won’t be the only one. The higher-ups in government refuse to believe any of this. Scotland Yard is overburdened with the arrival of the Russians and the anarchists. The local police refuse to get involved. So we have Archivist Society members watching the grounds.” He strode over to where Emma stood. “You have your knife? Good. I’ll have Sir William escort you around the gardens. At least we have Sir William and Mr. Nobles assisting us.”
Then the duke turned to me. “Where did you get that bruise?”
Both my shoulder and wrist showed the results of Sir Henry’s persuasion. At least I had covered my wrists with my twenty-button gloves. “Let me get my lacy shawl.”
“Georgia.”
“I think you can guess.”
“When this is over, Sir Henry and I will have words.” His tone made me think more than talking would be involved. I’d suffered worse during investigations before. Never had anyone threatened to avenge my injuries.
I put my hand on his shiny black jacket sleeve and marched out of the room, Phyllida following us.
The fantasy of every young girl is to walk down a grand staircase on the arm of a handsome, virile duke to attend a ball. I was nearly thirty and pretending to be someone I wasn’t to stop an espionage plot, but I was living that fantasy.
The staircase was carpeted in acres of red with a carved banister. The Duke of Blackford was tall, dark, and manly. His formal evening attire was the deepest black with a blazing white bow tie and shirt. My dress, dark green with swirls of silk and satin, made me look like an alluring, elegant woman. I would carry the thrill of sweeping down those stairs like a princess until the day I died.