He escorted me onto the dance floor, and once again his masterful hold on me negated my waltzing inadequacies. “What happened?” he whispered in my ear.
This was to be a working dance.
“Sir Henry was attacked. He’s still alive.”
“Why Stanford?”
“If I knew who, I could tell you why. The plans were not in evidence.” How I wished they had been.
“You think Stanford, and not the baron, was to retrieve the drawings from Snelling?”
“Possibly. He did convince Gattenger to take a set home to work on them the night Snelling broke in.” And everything he told me could have been a lie.
“The attack on Stanford could be a screen for handing off the plans to someone else,” Blackford said.
“Or Sir Henry saw something and had to be stopped from raising the alarm. I met Sir Jonah Denby here. He says he’s really Lord Porthollow, interested in whether Sir Henry stole the blueprints, because if so, Sir Henry would be eliminated from the bidding and then he, Lord Porthollow, would win. He was outside when Sir Henry was carried in.”
“Blast. There are too many possibilities. Too many suspects. I’ve been watching von Steubfeld all night and he hasn’t gone far.” The duke swung me around with a flourish and we waltzed in the opposite direction.
I managed to keep my feet under me as I considered our next move. “Maybe he knows Snelling won’t be back until the supper is served. With everyone eating and drinking, he might think it’ll be easier for him to slip away. Particularly since he must know he’s under surveillance.”
The duke raised his eyebrows before pulling me closer and speaking directly into my ear. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on von Steubfeld during supper. Afterward, the guests from the other house parties will be leaving. Lots of activity by the front entrance, and no one near the terrace.”
I struggled to keep waltzing and think about the handoff of the ship blueprints, but the way Blackford’s breath brushed my skin was claiming all my attention. “Except us.”
“And Sir William, Mr. Nobles, Emma, the Archivists—”
Now I felt as useful as a horse pushing a cart from behind. “All right. Where should we be?”
His dark eyes were the color of a gloomy sky. “I don’t know.”
“Surely you must have some idea.” I thought the duke always had an idea. Whether it was a good one was another matter.
“None.”
“Then we must keep an eye on everyone, especially the baron, and go with our instincts.”
“That’s not logical.”
I forced myself to sound more positive than I felt. I knew how important rescuing those naval blueprints was to the duke. “Sometimes we have to throw logic out the window and observe what is happening right in front of us.”
The waltz ended and everyone moved toward the dining room. Including the baron.
We followed at the end of the laughing, colorful crowd like a sorrowful tail. I was frustrated at our lack of progress. I could only imagine what was going through the duke’s mind.
Now that the music had ended, partiers found they had much to say to each other and stayed clustered in the dining room. Perhaps knowledge of the attack on Sir Henry had spread, keeping them together. When carriages began to arrive, the guests left in groups. They laughed, called farewells, and made a joyous racket. But they clung together for safety, and I saw several look over their shoulders.
As the last group left, Lord Harwin gave his butler orders to lock all the doors and wait for the doctor and the policeman to arrive about Sir Henry. Then he led the guests upstairs. Only a few men lingered in the smoking parlor. Von Steubfeld was one. Blackford was another.
Lady Harwin stopped me in the upstairs hall and asked if I was all right after the shock of finding Sir Henry unconscious in the shrubbery. I couldn’t tell her I’d seen much worse, so I told her I hoped Sir Henry recovered quickly from his accident and walked off toward our rooms with Phyllida.
Emma was waiting when Phyllida and I entered my room. “Did you see Snelling?” I asked her.
“Only the once, early on. He’s not come back, and none of the valets or maids left the house. Fogarty and some of the other Archivists are patrolling the grounds, but there are too few of them. Do you think the burglar will return as soon as the house is quiet?”
“I would. Did you see what happened to Sir Henry?” I asked.
“I didn’t know anything had happened until Lady Peters ran past toward the house. Sir William and I walked in your direction, but by that time you had everything under control,” Emma said.
“When had you seen Sir Henry before we discovered him attacked?” I took off my necklace and set it in the jewelry box.
A moment later, the duke walked in without knocking. I gave him a quick glance as Emma replied, “Earlier, deep in conversation with Lady Peters.”
“Is that what they call it now?” Blackford asked.
I shot a look at him, and the edge of his mouth quirked up. He continued to stare at me, and I couldn’t look away. Something about the look in his eyes sent a tremor through my veins.
“Yes. They seemed to be arguing. Sir Henry walked away and Lady Peters gave a deep sigh and ran after him. I didn’t see any more,” Emma said. She and Phyllida stepped behind a painted cloth screen, and a moment later Emma’s ball gown was draped over the top.
Had Rosamond Peters caught up with Sir Henry? And what were they arguing about? Sir Henry’s letter or Lady Peters’s son?
“The doctor’s arrived. Sir Henry hasn’t regained consciousness, so the doctor is having him watched during the night. He has every hope Sir Henry will be with us in the morning,” the duke said.
“Will he know who hit him when he awakes?” I asked.
“Probably not. Not unusual in cases of head injury to have no memory of the attack,” Blackford told me.
“If Snelling comes back tonight to meet with Sir Henry, he’ll be walking around outside with the plans and no one to give them to,” I said. “Emma, are you in your lady’s maid costume?”
“Yes.” She came out from the screen transformed into a servant.
“Help Phyllida get ready for bed and then slip down to the servants’ entrance to see if anyone leaves that way. I’m going to hide behind the curtains and watch the rooms on this corridor.”
Emma and Phyllida left my room, but Blackford blocked my path. “I’ll watch the men’s wing from the alcove with the suit of armor. Come and get me if you see anyone leave.”
I looked up at him, my arms crossed. “Only if you promise to get me if anyone leaves from your wing.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t pass up the chance to sneak around in a dark garden with you.” He smiled too broadly, and I discovered I didn’t believe a word he said. Then he slipped his arms around my waist as his expression turned serious. “We’re finally alone.”
I smiled up at him, unsure what to expect. No matter what roles we were playing, he was still a duke.
He bent down, his eyes focused on my suddenly dry lips. I licked them in an effort to make them feel normal and watched his eyes darken. My insides twitched in response and my lips baked despite the cool evening air.
I slid my hands up the sleeves of his jacket, reveling in the softness. He shifted me against his chest and my hands snaked around his shoulders. Great heavens. Blackford was going to kiss me.
He never got the chance. I moved forward and pressed my lips against his in a rush of desire. I held the back of his head so I could get that last fraction of an inch closer to him. I might never get another chance to kiss him, and I wanted to know what his skin felt like against mine.
And then Blackford took charge. The kiss softened and gained electricity that shot down my spine and made my toes curl. For a moment, we were a pirate-raider and a princess, and the world stood still.
Then he pulled away and said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time. Now I’ve discovered this might become habit-forming.”