“Yes, there is that,” she said, looking to the right. Thom was marching down the stairs with a martyred look on her face that almost identically matched Plum’s grim smile. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the two of them — two of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and both looked like they were being sent to their own executions.
Harry had no qualms about the evening’s outcome — he had done a little investigating on his own regarding Plum’s first husband (as he then thought of the bastard) when Plum and he were first married, and had found that the man had drowned in a boating accident off the coast of a small Greek island where he had been living the past ten years. Harry had enough experience with the collective mind of the ton to know that without the stimulus of de Spenser, no one would recognize Plum, let alone remember the scandal. He also knew, however, that despite assurances to the otherwise, Plum believed with every morsel of her being that she would be the tool of his destruction.
Harry did his duty. He strolled around the crowded, overheated rooms, introducing his wife to every person he knew, and quite a few he hadn’t met, not even flinching when her grip on his arm turned painful. He dragged her around to every single person he could find, and only when they had met and had a few polite words with everyone present did she begin to relax. He coaxed her into a waltz, a dance that normally Harry loathed, but one that afforded him the possibility of holding his wife in his arms. He pulled her tighter than was polite, grinning at her mock-scandalized look in response. “You no longer look as if hot pokers are being inserted under your fingernails, so I assume that means you are beginning to enjoy yourself?”
The smile that had been teasing her lips faded as guilt flashed in her lovely eyes. “Oh, Harry, how selfish I have been! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for ruining your evening.”
“My evening hasn’t been ruined. Well, it will be if you don’t accompany me out into a dark corner of the garden where I can kiss you silly, but assuming you have no objections to that plan, I will survive an evening in society.”
The delicate blush he was delighted to see touch her cheeks grew darker as her eyes flashed a challenge he felt obliged to meet. “You can certainly try, my lord. As for the other — you were right, no one remembers who I am, not one person! Harry, truly you have my humblest apology for not believing in you. You’ve performed a miracle!”
Harry held her for a few seconds after the dance ended, wishing more than ever he was at home where he could receive her — unnecessary — gratitude in a much more tangible form. He took her hand in his as he led her to the next room, his eyes alighting on a familiar — and very welcome — figure. “Much as I would like to be worthy of such an appealing look in your luscious eyes, I can’t claim the responsibility for a miracle. The ton is notoriously fickle, and voracious where gossip and scandal are concerned. They no sooner consume one, then they’re on the prowl for their next source of entertainment. Now, if you can stand one more introduction, I’ve just seen a man whom I’d very much like you and Thom to meet.”
Plum looked around as Harry led her through the throng toward a group of men near the card room. “Where has Thom gone to?”
“No doubt she’s made her escape while we were distracted. My dear, may I present to you Lord Wessex? Noble, this is my wife, Plum.”
The tall, dark-haired man spun around at his voice. “Harry! What the devil are you doing here?”
Harry allowed himself to be enveloped in a hug of such enthusiasm that his wife’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He grinned and thumped his old friend on the back. “We had a little business in town. I thought you were in the north?”
“Came back for Parliament. It is a pleasure, madam. I had no idea you’d married again until I saw the notice in The Times.”
Plum’s hand twitched. He patted it. That announcement had been a sore point with her, but he’d be damned if he hid the existence of his wife as if he were ashamed of her. “Is Gillian here? I’d like her to meet Plum.”
Noble’s brows pulled together in a scowl. “She’s home with the children. The two youngest are down with chicken pox — you must come for a visit if you’ve had ‘em. Nick’s due to meet me here in a bit. He’ll be delighted to see you as well — it’s been how long? A year? Too long.”
Harry agreed, and spent an enjoyable ten minutes catching up with all of his friend’s doings, aware the whole while that Plum was distracted, nervously looking around herself. He took the opportunity of an acquaintance drawing Noble’s attention away to ask her what was wrong. “You’re not still worried, are you?”
Plum’s gaze swept the room. “Not about myself, but where do you think Thom has disappeared to?”
“Probably dancing. She’s a good girl, Plum. She won’t do anything to shame you.”
“Shame me?” Plum gave him a disgruntled look. “I’m not worried about her shaming me, I’m concerned that she was so bored she left without telling me. I think I’ll go look for her…”
Plum hurried off. Harry mingled with the gentlemen lounging inside the card room, pulling Noble aside when he was free.
“I like your wife,” Noble said to him as they strolled to the far end of the room. “And you look happy with her. I’m glad you remarried, Harry. It was time.”
“It was beyond time, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”
“Aha!” Noble said, his grey eyes alight with humor. “I knew it. You didn’t just come to town to introduce your lady, did you?”
“Hardly. You know I have no love for society. I’m here because the new head of the HO wants my advice concerning the Stanford situation.”
“Stanford?” Noble frowned, shaking his head when Harry offered him a cigar. “Wasn’t he responsible for bringing you up on charges of treason?”
“That’s the man. Lord Briceland had heard some disturbing rumors that Stanford wasn’t acting alone. He asked me to look into it. I’ve spent the last six weeks combing my records looking for a clue to the identity of the man who might be involved.”
“And now you’re here to report in?”
“I’m here to find proof.” Harry lit a spill and waved it under the end of his cigar until it glowed red. “It shouldn’t be too diffi cult.”
“Who is it you suspect?” Noble asked, his voice dropped so no one would overhear.
Harry smiled a wry smile. “The last person you’d imagine. I believe it’s—”
“Harry!” Plum pushed her way through the room, oblivious to the curious glances she was receiving. She grabbed his arm and started tugging him toward the door. “Forgive me for interrupting you, Lord Wessex, but this is a grave emergency. Harry, you have to help me find Thom. She’s disappeared! No one has seen her for the longest time. You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you? She’s never been to London before. I’ll never forgive myself if someone said something cruel to her, and she ran away…”
Harry threw his cigar into the fireplace, casting an apologetic glance at his friend as Plum dragged him out in search of his errant niece-by-marriage.
CHAPTER Eleven
Thom was bored. She was more than bored, she was nigh on moronic with the insipidness of the ton. She had heard much of them from her aunt, and although Plum seemed to recall her pre-Charles days of dancing and flirting with much fondness, Thom had no desire to waste her life in such frivolousness. It wasn’t that she was serious, per se, nor a bluestocking, it’s just that she felt there was more to be had out of life than talking about nothing but gowns, babies, the latest rake to hit town, and the hundreds of other meaningless things that caught the attention of the upper class.