Emily stood by the dance floor, watching even as she felt watched. Priscilla moved confidently through the elegant turns, smiling so winningly that her partner, the elder son of Lord Fishborne, missed his cue watching her and stumbled. Daphne was more stilted, as if she feared no lady showed exuberance.
Still the feeling persisted, as if Emily were being hunted. She glanced around, but no gaze met hers among the courtly guests. Where was Lord Robert? Not among the dancers. Nor could she spot him by the sofas. The hermit was surrounded by giggling ladies; more laughter came from the maze. Wait – was that a russet head by the buffet? Her heartbeat was as unsteady as her steps as she started forward.
Suddenly, the door to the kitchens opened, and out danced children dressed like fairies in fluttering gowns, with gossamer wings on their backs. They darted through the group, making bows, dipping curtseys, and handing out little packages of comfits. The guests exclaimed in delight.
And she lost sight of him, if she’d ever had him at all.
This was getting her nowhere! Priscilla could tell her where a gentleman might hide. As the second dance ended, Emily parted the beaus besieging her friend and begged a moment.
“Of course,” Priscilla said, then clapped her hands again. The statues twisted into more elaborate poses.
Before Emily could talk to Priscilla, a gentleman pushed his way forward. He had brown hair and was only of average height, but his gaze was keen and bright behind his spectacles. He inclined his head to Emily before turning to Priscilla.
“I doubt you remember me, Miss Tate,” he said. “We met at Lady Baminger’s musicale when you were in town last Christmas. I’m Nathan Kent.”
Emily had no time for this, but Priscilla smiled politely. “A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Kent.” Her gaze returned to Emily, as if she had already dismissed him from her thoughts.
Emily would have liked to do the same, but he was entirely too persistent. “Forgive the interruption,” he continued with another smile to Emily, “but I came to beseech a favor.”
He was doomed. Emily was here first, and, by the way her friend lowered her gaze, Priscilla was going to refuse.
Until he added, “For my employer, the Duke of Rottenford.”
Priscilla’s head snapped up, and Emily felt her own doom approaching. It wouldn’t matter what she said. She would never get Priscilla’s attention now!
“The Duke of Rottenford?” Priscilla said breathlessly.
“Yes, Rottenford,” Mr. Kent agreed with an amused smile. “I serve as his personal secretary.”
“Priscilla,” Emily tried.
Priscilla fluttered her lashes and laid a hand on the arm of his black evening coat. “I would do anything for His Grace.”
Mr. Kent detached her hand from his arm. “Then tell me the way through the maze. It’s blocking the stairs to the retiring rooms and, after six glasses of your excellent punch, it’s become rather urgent for His Grace to find his way through.”
Priscilla’s smile remained on her face, disguising any disappoint she must have felt that His Grace was not requesting a dance. “I’d be delighted to tell His Grace, but I cannot spoil the fun for my other guests. If you’d bring him to me, I’ll whisper it in his ear.”
Now why couldn’t Emily have been born with such cunning!
“Alas,” Mr. Kent said with a bit of steel in his voice. “Crossing the room to your side might pose a difficulty. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to whisper it in my ear.”
“No, Miss Tate,” another young man nearby called. “Whisper it in my ear, and I’ll be happy to tell His Grace for you.”
They all jostled to get closer, and Priscilla held up a hand. “Gentlemen, gentlemen. We must have mercy. Mr. Kent?”
Mr. Kent eyed Priscilla as if expecting some trap, but he leaned closer, resting his hand on her elbow as softly as a caress. Priscilla pressed her lips to his ear and murmured low. He straightened and walked away, steps decidedly crooked. But what amazed Emily was that Priscilla smiled dreamily.
“Priscilla, you must help me find Lord Robert!” Emily begged.
“Who?” Priscilla asked, blinking.
Emily gave up. When she needed action, she should have known who to ask. She dodged around the dance floor once more and finally located Daphne and Ariadne near the far wall. Ariadne was pale, but Daphne was deep in conversation with an elderly gentleman, train over one arm. Had she found Lord Snedley at last?
“Excuse us,” Emily said to the fellow, seizing her friends’ arms and dragging them to the side. She met their gazes and hoped she didn’t look as desperate as she felt. “I need your help to find Lord Robert. I know he’s here somewhere.”
“Of course,” Daphne said. “I was merely trying to locate Lord Snedley. My night will not be complete unless he pronounces me a success.”
Ariadne rolled her eyes.
“Once I deal with Lord Robert, I’ll be happy to help you find him,” Emily promised her.
They started about the circuit again, peering around, under, and over people. Ariadne kept silent, one hand around her waist. It seemed even her emerald gown had not emboldened her to converse with strangers. Even to the lady leading her wolfhound.
“Gorgeous gown, my dear,” she said to Ariadne as they paused near her. The beast at her side rubbed his jaw along the floor as if trying to free himself. His mistress held out the chain to Ariadne. “Be a love and hold my pet while I find my partner to dance.”
Ariadne gasped, but she could not seem to find the words as the lady pressed the leash into her hand.
“Actually,” Emily tried, nudging Ariadne, “we were trying to find Lord Robert Townsend.”
“Look in Lady Skelcroft’s circle,” the lady advised as she sailed onto the floor. The wolfhound and Ariadne regarded each other. Only the wolfhound looked amused.
“Go on,” Ariadne said, so still she might have been frozen in place. “Find him. I’ll be all right. Very likely the creature is tame.”
“I could stay,” Daphne volunteered, but Ariadne shook her head. In the end, they left her and hurried for the dowagers’ circle, not far from the hermit’s grotto. Lady Skelcroft sat beside Lady Minerva among the silver- and gray-haired ladies.
Emily dipped a curtsey in front of her. “Pardon me, your ladyship, but I’m trying to find my fiancé.”
Lady Skelcroft clutched her lace shawl closer, the ruby brooch flashing. “I have not had the pleasure of seeing Lord Robert this evening.” She convulsed suddenly, sneezing three times in sharp puffs. Lady Minerva slid a little farther away on the sofa.
“Pardon me,” Lady Skelcroft said with a sniff. “It’s these horrid plants. Whatever possessed Miss Tate to drag in the entire countryside?”
“I believe she was trying to portray an enchanted garden,” Daphne said helpfully. “Gardens do have plants.”
Lady Skelcroft sneezed again in bursts so violent they apparently propelled her to her feet. “That is quite enough! I’m sorry, Minerva dearest, but I’m going home.” Before Emily or her aunt could say a word, she stormed for the door.
Emily stiffened. If Lady Skelcroft left, how was Emily to confront Lord Robert with it?
“Go after her,” she told Daphne. “Convince her to stay. I’ll find Lord Robert.”
With a nod, Daphne ran.
Around the room Emily went again, tighter and tenser each moment.
Where was Lord Robert? How had he disappeared so well?
Where was Jamie? Had she so demeaned herself in his eyes that he could not bear to keep his promise and come?
Priscilla met her beside the dance floor. “Sorry, Emily, but this is not going as I’d planned. Rottenford is lost in the maze, despite my precise instructions, and I have no idea when he’ll escape. I’d find him, but I’m supposed to be the hostess!” She clapped her hands. The statues twisted about again, and two ended up on their rears. “Oh, for pity’s sake!”
Daphne hurried up as well. “This is not going as I planned. I never did locate Lord Snedley, and Lady Skelcroft won’t listen to reason. She’s being helped into her cloak as we speak.”
Ariadne puffed up. “The wolfhound is playing with the fairies, but this is not what I’d planned for tonight. I go to all the trouble of procuring a decent gown, and I still cannot find a single word to say to a gentleman!”
“Lord Snedley advises letting the young man initiate the conversation,” Daphne offered. “And to keep the topics to the weather, your horses, and your grandmother’s snuff recipe.”
“Sorry, Daphne,” Emily said, “but now is no time for Lord Snedley.”
“Agreed,” Ariadne said with a nod. “The fellow’s ridiculous.”
Daphne sucked in a breath. “You take that back. You know nothing about him.”
“Yes I do,” Ariadne snapped. “I am Lord Snedley!”
Emily stared, and Daphne turned as white as the statues.
Priscilla rubbed her ear. “I am truly going mad tonight. I thought you said you’re Lord Snedley.”
“I am,” Ariadne insisted. “I wanted to dress well for the Ball, and my allowance wasn’t enough for a gown. I may not be able to speak my mind, but I can certainly write. So I gathered up all Mother’s platitudes into an etiquette book. I was afraid no publisher would want something written by a girl not even out, so Lord Snedley was born.”
She turned to her sister. “I never thought he’d go over so well, or that you’d become a devotee. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to be myself for once, with a gown I liked, and writing the etiquette book was the only way I knew.”
Daphne stared at her, jaw working, then she turned and stalked off, heading for the maze. Deep inside it came another scream.
“Is that the peacock or one of my guests?” Priscilla asked. “I simply cannot tell the difference.”
Ariadne sighed. “She had such high hopes for tonight. I’ve ruined it for her, haven’t I?”
“Nonsense,” Emily said. “We’ll speak to Daphne. Right now, I could use some of your creativity. I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find Lord Robert.”
Ariadne frowned. “Have you tried the veranda?”
The veranda? Why would he be on the veranda? She needed him in the ballroom, where she could accuse him before witnesses. Where Jamie, when he arrived, could see that she knew Robert for what he was. Where she could hand him to Jamie and say, “Arrest him, my love.” That is, if Jamie ever showed up.
Well, if Lord Robert was on the veranda, she’d simply have to bring him back inside. “I’ll look,” she said to Ariadne. “Perhaps you should rescue Daphne from the peacock.”
“Or vice versa,” Ariadne agreed, hurrying away.
Emily slipped outside. Moonlight shone on the stone terrace, frosted the plants below with silver. Another white peacock strutted past, like a dandy’s ghost in his finery.
“Good evening, Emily,” Lord Robert said, moving out of the shadows. “It’s about time you showed up.”
Her heart started pounding as he walked toward her. Her hand came up to her chest and met the hard stones of her necklace. She’d finally discovered him, yet she found herself completely unready for the confrontation.
“Robert, you startled me,” she said, hoping he would take her breathlessness as nothing more.
“How very bad of me,” he said. He didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “Walk with me and let me apologize.”
With him in this strange mood, she didn’t dare. “Come back inside with me,” she tried, “and you can apologize there.”
“Ah, no,” he said. “Jewel thieves prefer the night.”
Something was wrong. He shouldn’t be confessing. She edged away from him along the balustrade, feeling the stones snag on her gloves. “A jewel thief?” she asked.
“Oh, come now, Emily. You know I stole Lady Minerva’s pearls, Acantha Dalrymple’s sapphires, and Lady Skelcroft’s brooch and replaced the stones with paste so no one would be any wiser. You wanted to call me out on it tonight, before all my friends. Is taking a few jewels so wicked? Those ladies surely won’t miss them.”
If she agreed, would he let her get away? He was watching her every movement; she could see her gown outlined in the dark of his eyes. She took a step toward him, ready to run. “And what of Lavinia Haversham? Her family is not so fortunate.”
His face twisted. “They should be honored I would even notice their daughter. What were a few baubles compared with acceptance in Good Society? But would she be silent when she caught me with my hand in her jewel case? Oh, no.”
The emeralds felt as tight as a noose. She could not move. She’d thought she knew his secret, but this was much worse than she’d ever imagined. “Oh, no,” she gasped. “You killed her!”
“It was an accident,” Robert spat out. “I struck her once, to keep her quiet. I can’t help it if the stupid chit fell into the sharp point of the dressing table. I was lucky to escape before anyone knew I’d been higher than the sitting room.”
“You’ll hang,” Emily said, trying to determine how to escape. If she ran, would he catch her? If she could get past him, she knew help was waiting inside. Surely he’d do nothing before witnesses. “If I were you, I’d take a ship for the Continent, tonight.”
He drew himself up. “Are you mad? I’m a Townsend. I have a reputation to protect. Besides, the only one who suspects anything is Cropper. And you.” He lunged for her.
“Priscilla!” Emily cried, darting around him for the door. “Daphne! Ariadne! Help!”
One hand came down on her shoulder, jerking her to a stop and slamming her back against him. The other hand came over her mouth, pressing her lips against her teeth. She could taste the silk of his glove.
“Silence!” His shake rattled her bones.
Never! She wiggled against him, turning her head this way and that, but his grip was too sure, his arms too strong. He dragged her toward the stairs to the garden below.
“I heard what Cropper said to you that night at dinner,” he said against her hair. “I knew you conspired against me. So I thought, why not let you have your ball? I knew you’d invite him here too. I wanted everyone to see you cavorting with him. Only Mother knew I was here, and she’d never speak a word against me. And when you were found dead in the garden and the emeralds missing, I could throw the suspicion on Cropper. He’d investigated each case, after all. Who better to slip in paste copies than an impoverished lackey of the court? Any accusations against me would be taken as the ravings of a desperate criminal. And I would play the grieving lover.”
He gave her another shake. “As if I would grieve for you.”
Panic crushed the breath from her, made her heart jerk in her chest, threatened to swamp all reason. No, no, she could not give in to it. He didn’t realize Jamie hadn’t come. He’d kill her, and no one would know what had happened.
She had to do something. As Lord Robert started down the stairs, she wedged a leg between his.
He stumbled, and for a moment she thought she’d killed them both. Cursing, he righted himself, but she could feel his hold slipping. She sank her teeth into his hand.
He jerked away from her, and she fell onto the ground at the bottom of the stone steps, landing on both feet with her gown beneath her. She ran anyway, pulling it up as she moved, dragging the silk through the graveled path. Her only coherent thought was that she mustn’t damage her gown or Priscilla would kill her.
If Lord Robert didn’t catch her first.