“You look ravishing, Georgia,” the duke murmured, and I almost missed a step.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“I will claim my waltz if I personally have to stop von Steubfeld from interfering. If he tries to grab those plans during the ball, I will shoot him.” Blackford stared at me, his eyes darkening.
His words made my heart hammer against my corset. “I’ll load the gun.”
He grinned as he led me to the parlor where the guests were to meet before going in to dinner. As soon as we entered the room, Lady Harwin stole the duke away to introduce him to some local notable. My fantasy ended too quickly, but his words, I will claim my waltz, rang in my brain.
“The duke appears quite smitten,” Phyllida said.
“He’s playing his role well.”
“No. He wasn’t acting. There was no audience except me. And I do not count.”
I glanced at Phyllida. She smiled serenely.
Time to get my mind back on business. “I’d introduce you to Sir William and Mr. Nobles, but I don’t think they’ll be here until the ball.”
“There will be plenty of time, then, but what do we do if Snelling brings the plans while we’re all eating pigeon or pheasant or some such?”
“We’ll have to trust our friends. Scotland Yard has failed us.” I knew we could handle this. The Archivist Society had to stop the sale of the naval designs and prove Gattenger’s innocence.
“Scotland Yard has failed us?” Lady Rosamond Peters asked. “Whatever are you discussing?”
I jumped. “That young man who tried to steal Lady Phyllida’s hatbox. If anyone is going to stop crimes like that against ladies while they’re shopping, it has to be Scotland Yard. So far they’ve failed us.” I hoped it sounded believable. I didn’t have any better ideas, and I still had no idea what would happen tonight.
“Stealing a hatbox is such a strange crime. I doubt we’ll hear of anyone else threatened in that manner,” Lady Peters said. “I’m glad to see you on your feet again.”
Good. She appeared to buy my excuse for mentioning Scotland Yard. “Either I heal very quickly or the blow was not as bad as first thought. Of course, my recovery could be aided by my desire to waltz with the duke.” I gave Lady Peters a cheery smile and she laughed.
“You can hardly be blamed. I see the way he looks at you.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Not at all. I think he regrets letting you get away in India all those years ago.”
I felt the heat rush up my face. Trying to deflect my wish that it were so, I said, “All those years ago? You make us sound ancient.”
“You ladies look lovely,” Sir Henry said as he came up behind Lady Peters. Thus began a round of mutual congratulations on our outfits that ended with us agreeing Phyllida would be the loveliest lady at the ball.
“Where are Lady Bennett and Baron von Steubfeld?” I asked as soon as I could steer the conversation in another direction.
“They’re in Lord Harwin’s study with him and a guest from Whitehall. Apparently there’s supposed to be a bit of diplomacy carried out this weekend, away from London and all the usual formalities,” Sir Henry said.
“I’ve heard the baron carries a message for Her Majesty,” Lady Peters added.
“Then we’re in exalted company this weekend,” Lady Phyllida said as we all stared at the closed doorway that stood between the parlor and the study.
At that moment, the door opened. Lady Harwin, seeing that as her cue, told us to line up to go into dinner. She was escorted in by the duke, who sat next to her. I found myself near the middle of a very long table between a friend of the Harwins’ son who was visiting from Oxford and an elderly barrister who’d been invited to even the numbers. Both men seemed interested only in eating and looking down my bodice.
In the long pauses between conversations, I was able to look out the windows into the sunset-lit garden. No one wandered into my view. This was fortunate, because I had no idea what the rules of etiquette said about the proper way to leap up from a banquet and dash after a criminal carrying stolen warship designs. Neither, apparently, did the baron, because he stayed seated throughout dinner.
Dinner was tasty, but I ate sparingly, afraid that at any moment I’d be called into action. Later, I couldn’t recall a single dish served.
Somehow we managed to finish dinner without a hue and cry outdoors, and the guests for the ball began to arrive. Two of the first were Sir William Darby and Mr. Frederick Nobles.
With Phyllida trailing behind, I walked up to where they were handing over their top hats and canes. “Lady Phyllida, I’d like to introduce Sir William Darby and Mr. Frederick Nobles. I believe they’re friends of the duke’s,” I added quietly.
“I’m so pleased to meet you. I’ll be in the card room or the library during the ball, but if I have need of you, I’ll be sure to call upon you gentlemen,” Phyllida said quietly.
Merciful heavens. Phyllida was developing a taste for clandestine action. Perhaps she’d prefer a more active role in the Archivist Society.
“I would be honored to assist you,” Sir William said as he bowed over Phyllida’s hand. Then he looked at her and winked. Mr. Nobles bowed in the same manner, the edges of his mouth curling up under his mustache as he rose.
We headed into the ballroom at the back of the house. Blackford escorted Lady Harwin. “He’ll have to have the first waltz with her,” Phyllida whispered.
“I’d suspect there are any number of ladies he’ll need to partner,” I responded with what I hoped sounded like complete indifference.
She raised her eyebrows as she looked at me. I couldn’t fool Phyllida.
The first dance was a country dance I had never seen before and begged off. Phyllida walked off with some older attendees to the card room, and I began to circle the room. Lady Bennett and Baron von Steubfeld took part in the dance, and I saw no activity outside in the terrace, so I felt I could relax my guard.
Lady Peters came up to me. “You’re not dancing?”
“I didn’t think I should risk my ankle on anything but a waltz. And you?”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I find country dances tedious. You can’t carry on a decent conversation with anyone.”
“While you can have discussions on the edge of the room without a soul overhearing.”
“You’re never so alone as you are in a crowded ballroom,” Lady Peters agreed.
I looked at the lines of dancers. “Sir Henry seems to be enjoying himself.”
“Sir Henry enjoys himself everywhere.”
“I never learned the country dances. Did you?”
“Yes. It was always part of the harvest celebration.” Then she turned to look at me. “My parents liked to visit the countryside for the holidays. They found the city too somber.”
“That would be a nice tradition to pass on to your son.” I was waltzing around the topic I wanted to raise with her, not certain how to proceed.
“Did you and Mr. Monthalf have children?”
“No. Not being part of the aristocracy, failing to produce an heir didn’t matter.”
“Sir Henry told me what you admitted about your late husband. And how he made you search my room for the letter. You found it, didn’t you?” Amazingly, Rosamond Peters watched the dancers with a pleasant expression.
I copied her mild behavior so that no one who glanced our way would see anything but two ladies discussing trivial matters. “Neither Sir Henry nor I have possession of the letter. On that, I give you my word.”
“Not quite the same, but I’m content if Sir Henry doesn’t have it. He can be overbearing.”
I stopped myself from bursting out laughing. “Yes,” I managed to say quietly. I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why does Lady Bennett want the ship blueprints?”
“I don’t know. I’d give her the crown jewels if it would keep her quiet, for the sake of my child.”