Lord Markinson’s familiar smile allowed Theo to relax, and she ventured a grin of her own. He had been one of her brother’s closest friends despite his tendency for rakish behavior.
His large palm dwarfed hers just as it had when they were younger, learning the steps. “I was curious as to how long you would remain in hiding.”
They danced the quadrille and were momentarily separated. The blur of three dark figures entering through a side door caught Theo’s attention. She recognized Landon, but he was flanked by two strangers.
She craned her neck to observe the trio. The tallest was intently searching the room, surveying the refreshment table and the walls lined with ladies chatting in small groups rather than the main dance floor. Who was he looking for?
The handsome stranger to Landon’s left leaned to his side and spoke to the tall one, nodding in the direction of Lord Waterford, who was dancing with Lucy. Straightening to his full height, the man’s eyes shot daggers at Lord Waterford. He must be Lord Devonton. Lucy had described her husband as a giant. Theo couldn’t help but smile. She could practically see waves of heat and steam radiating from Lord Devonton as he eyed his pregnant wife in another man’s arms.
“I see your cousin has arrived.” Lord Markinson released her from the turn.
Theo snuck another glance at the trio. Lord Devonton was likely several inches taller than most. He was only slightly taller than Landon and the lighter-haired gentleman that her eyes kept wandering to. There was a familiarity about him.
“Do you know the others he arrived with? I don’t recall having been introduced to them before.”
“Lord Devonton and…” Lord Markinson did a double take. “Lord Archbroke.”
Lord Archbroke. It couldn’t be. The man’s clothing was garish, cravat tied with rolls and curves that reminded her of a turkey neck. What color was his waistcoat? Rose-pink. Theo’s gaze followed the trio as they made their way to the refreshments table.
Lord Devonton’s coat stretched taut, his muscles flexed, as Lucy slipped but fell into the competent arms of Lord Waterford. Lord Archbroke placed a hand to halt Lord Devonton’s advance. At something Archbroke said, Lord Devonton’s eyes softened, reflecting concern and… love.
Theo followed the line of Lord Devonton’s gaze to Lucy, who returned her husband’s stare with a wink. What would it feel like to be loved so passionately and with such fierceness?
Inexplicably, Theo’s gaze fell back to Lord Archbroke. The gentleman was of similar height to Landon, but he exuded strength and authority in stark contrast to his appearance. He was a dandy. From her papa’s notes, she was expecting a mature, intelligent, reserved gentleman. Not a peacock.
“Is anything the matter, Lady Theodora?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“You seem rather unsettled by the appearance of your cousin and his friends.”
“His…”
“I’m not one to brag, but this is the first time my dance partner wasn’t wholly focused on my devilishly handsome face.”
“I’m sorry…” Even as she spoke the apology, Theo’s gaze was pulled again to Lord Archbroke. The tingling on the back of her neck was a warning. The man’s posture appeared relaxed and idle, but the intensity of his gaze reflected an underlying layer of intelligence and raw power. Absurd. But her instincts were warning her to be on guard. His silly lopsided smile masked fine features that otherwise might have been described as handsome.
What was it about this man that had her nerves on high alert? Now that he was closer, she could see his eyes. She had seen those peculiar cool blue eyes before. As their gazes collided— Oh no. Lord Archbroke was the man at the jeweler’s shop. The disheveled lord she had accosted. Theo shuddered as if chilled by the night air.
Lord Markinson ran a hand down her arm. “Are you cold?”
Theo blinked and looked up at her partner as the other couples made their way off the dance floor. “Not at all. It’s rather warm with the crush of couples. But I’m a tad parched.”
He winged out his arm. “Would you care for some punch?”
“That would be lovely.” Theo followed his lead without thought of their destination.
When he stopped but did not leave, Theo turned in confusion. The slight movement under her hand reminded her that she still had not released him.
As her hand slid from his arm, he winked at her. “I’ll return with refreshments.”
An eerie feeling someone was watching her caused her skin to prickle. Theo subconsciously raised her hand over her coiffure and down her rose-colored gown, but her gaze caught Lord Archbroke’s eyes trailing her hand. His visual assessment brought about a sensation that quickened her pulse. She had never been affected by another with such intensity before. It was those blue eyes. How could she have mistaken the man for a dullard?
Theo started at her aunt’s voice. “Lord Markinson is a rather handsome gentleman—although, my dear, how are your toes?”
How was it that Aunt Henri was by her side?
“Is anything the matter?” Aunt Henri asked again.
What was her aunt’s first question? “My toes?”
“You made the most unusual faces. I assumed it was due to his lordship stepping on your toes.”
“Oh, no. Lord Markinson is a lovely dancer, Aunt Henri. I’m not used to wearing these horrid slippers, and they’re pinching.”
“You certainly cannot wear your boots to a ball.” Aunt Henrietta frowned down at her own feet. Theo was sure her aunt was suffering the same discomfort as neither of them was accustomed to being on their feet for long periods.
The shuffling of boots behind her alerted her to men approaching.
Aunt Henrietta clapped her hands with glee. “Thank goodness you have arrived!”
Landon stepped around Theo and leaned down to give his mama a kiss on the cheek.
Theo loved how affectionate her family members were with one another. Since taking up residence at Hadfield Hall, she had been showered with kisses and hugs that she eagerly returned, having not received them before.
“Mama.” He bussed Theo on the cheek before asking, “How are you enjoying the evening?”
Theo cataloged her various impressions of the night. They ranged from total boredom to highly intrigued upon the arrival of Lord Archbroke. Ultimately, she gave Landon a weak smile and said, “I’m ready to leave if you are.”
Disappointment flashed across Landon’s features. Theo’s attention was immediately drawn to the sight of Lucy storming toward them with her husband close on her heels.
Once Lucy was within speaking distance, she declared to the group, “I’m so sorry, but I cannot stay longer. My stodgy old husband…” She waved her hand toward Lord Devonton.
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh, Theo!”
Lucy drew in a deep calming breath and pierced Lord Devonton with a look that was a mixture of aggravation and affection. She placed a hand on her husband’s arm to steady her. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to my husband, Blake Gower, the Earl of Devonton.” Lucy continued to mumble, but Lord Devonton’s chuckle made it hard to hear her clearly. Lucy wouldn’t have referred to her husband as Mr. Worrywart, would she? Previously Lucy had only sung Lord Devonton’s praises. How calming, how intelligent, how understanding, how handsome… she had gone on and on about the man she had married.
Smiling and evidently unperturbed by his wife’s behavior, he gracefully took Theo’s outreached hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Theodora.”
Lord Devonton released her hand and straightened. The man’s height was intimidating.
Theo raised her chin to ensure her voice projected. “Please call me Theo. I’ve heard so much about you, Lord Devonton, that I feel as if I already know you.”
Theo peeked around Lord Devonton. Where was Lord Archbroke?
Frown lines appeared as Lord Devonton replied, “A pleasure, Theo, and you must address me as Blake. I’m sorry we can’t stay longer, but I think Lucy should be resting and not…”
Lucy’s husband’s reassuring manner made it an easy transition for Theo to think of him as simply Blake rather than Lord Devonton.
The poor man winced as Lucy elbowed Blake in the ribs. “Oh look. Archbroke is coming this way. Blake, I must speak with him, and I will not leave until I do so.”
All eyes turned to watch Archbroke approach. The man’s steps were minced. He stopped a half dozen times to address a matron or gentleman, all of whom wore a look of disinterest, but none gave him the cut direct. He straightened his waistcoat—at this distance and lighting, Theo realized it wasn’t rose-pink but a horrid shade of orange that she had never seen before.
“He informed me that color is referred to as gamboge,” Landon whispered in her ear.
“Gamboge?”
Landon nodded.
As soon as Lord Archbroke was within reach, Lucy placed a hand on his upper arm. Theo was struck with an urge to slap Lucy’s hand away. What was it about this peculiar man that provoked such odd reactions?
“Archbroke. Don’t you look fine this evening.” Lucy turned her mischievous eyes to Theo.
Fine? Was Lucy blind? Archbroke’s attire was atrocious. His cravat was the same red as a wattle. It was no wonder the image of a turkey had come to mind upon first sight of him. From a distance, one couldn’t tell the color of his jacket, but up close, Theo saw it was a dark forest green, cut slightly too snug for his form. The appalling color scheme of his evening wear was only heightened all the more by the elegance of Blake and Landon’s ensembles.
Lucy giggled. “Theo, it would be my pleasure to introduce to you Graham Drummond, the Earl of Archbroke. He is a very close friend of Matthew’s, and I believe he also knew both your papa and brother quite well.” Lucy gave Theo a very pointed look and raised an eyebrow at her.
Blinking, Theo reached out her hand. “Lord Archbroke, it’s a pleasure to meet a friend of the family.”
No one in their little group noticed Graham’s slight hesitation. Lucy confirmed his suspicions that the raven-haired beauty from Rutherford’s was indeed none other than Lady Theodora, herself. He didn’t possess Devonton’s ability to recall every detail of a person’s image, but Lady Theodora had garnered his full attention at the jeweler’s, and her features had haunted him ever since. He had gone against protocol when he stared at her as she ran her delicate hand over her exquisite hair, down her swan-like neck, and against her soft silk gown, allowing her to detect his presence.
Graham reached out to take Theo’s hand and brushed a light kiss across her gloved hand. “Lady Theodora, the pleasure is all mine.” His blood warmed despite the material preventing his lips from experiencing the intimate touch of skin.
Her cousin was emanating a level of heat that could roast a man alive. Meeting Landon’s glare directly, Graham straightened but did not release the lady’s hand. What had caused Landon’s ire? Was it due to the ridiculously high tone he adopted when in society, or was it because he presumed to kiss his cousin’s hand? He would have to deal with Landon at a later time. Graham prioritized he needed to whisk Theo away and have a private word with her. The strains of a waltz gave the perfect opportunity to draw the woman away from the group.
“Lady Theodora, may I have this dance?” A turn on the dance floor would afford them a level of privacy, enough for him to assess the beauty before him. She certainly wasn’t a wallflower, and those deep emerald eyes held intelligence and something he was struggling to name.
Rather than releasing Theo immediately as he should, Graham drew her closer and gently placed a hand on her lower back. His palm met with well-defined muscles. She had been training. Intrigued to find out more of the woman who had taken on the Hadfield duties, Graham deftly guided her through the throng and onto the dance floor. How long would she remain silent?
Unperturbed by her lack of effort to engage in conversation, Graham was uncharacteristically at ease with the woman in his arms, and dancing with her was more pleasure than obligation. She wasn’t a missish innocent. She looked to be at least of age with Lucy, who was three and twenty. He hadn’t bothered to take note of the debutantes or the available misses. He was far too busy to properly court a woman.
A quarter of the way through the dance, Theo raised her chin and took in his features. “Lord Archbroke, I was expecting you to be a man of many more years than…” Her eyes roamed over him, and every inch of his skin seemed to come alive. “Than what, forty?”
Forty, bloody hell! Did he look that old?
He lightened his hold at her waist. His fingertips had inadvertently dug into her side on hearing her estimation. “Lady Theodora, I am nine and twenty. Good God, do I really look forty?”
He must be spending too much time buried at the Home Office or his own office at home. Perhaps he was a little soft around the middle, not as muscular or defined as his agents, and he definitely had more than a few wrinkles on his forehead. It was no doubt from dealing with all the infuriating agents at the Home Office who constantly tested his authority. Despite rumors of him being too young to be an effective leader, he had also heard it said by many of his agents that he was by far the most intelligent and honorable man they’d the pleasure to work for. And they did so with pride, for Graham was a genius and ran the Home Office far better than the prior two generations.
Graham caught a mischievous sparkle in Theo’s eyes. Hmm… was the minx teasing him? Interesting.
“With your voice not yet fully developed, how could I have been mistaken?” Had he spoken in his regular tone or the one he adopted as a dandy? He would have to be more careful.
Theo continued, “Nine and twenty, my lord. You are but four years my senior. My sources gave me the impression that I was to seek out a great mastermind. Could that be you?”
The woman before him was no ninny. Her clever questions and wit proved as much. He squeezed her hand to reassure himself she was indeed real. The subtle change in his grip heightened her breathing, drawing his attention to the rise and fall of her bosom.
Theo’s cheeks were aflush with color. “Is it you I seek?”
Raising his eyes back to meet hers, he blinked. Never had a woman distracted him from a task. He needed her to reveal herself.
Graham lowered his voice. “There is only one way to find out, Lady Theo. Meet me in the garden just before the supper dance.”
For the first time all evening, a flicker of doubt flashed through Theo’s eyes. Would she be up for the assignation? He wanted to uncover the mysterious Lady Theodora. How much had she learned from the volume?
He waited as Theo weighed the risks of meeting him in the garden. Her gaze darted around him only to return to his with a spark of a challenge. He admired her brilliant green eyes framed by artfully shaped brows, her cute, pert nose that sat above lips which were full and bowed. It was a moment before he registered she was speaking again. “Perhaps this evening is not the best time for us to become better acquainted, my lord.”
Resuming his role of a jovial dandy, Graham said loudly for others nearby to hear, “Oh Theo, please call me Graham or Archbroke.” Then to unnerve the woman, Graham leaned in closer and in his deep natural tone whispered in her ear, “I disagree. I believe tonight is as good as any other time.”
Theo shivered. Graham suppressed the caveman response to haul her over his shoulder and make her quiver more. The last strains of the waltz indicated the dance was about to end. She was taking too long to make a decision. If she was to inherit the duties of the volume, she needed to be decisive. In a tone that had his agents hopping to do his bidding, Graham said, “You will only receive this one opportunity to prove you are worthy of my assistance.”
He guided a silent Theo over to her aunt and cousin. Releasing Theo from his embrace was harder than Graham anticipated. For some odd reason, he wanted her to remain close to his side. Never had he experienced such possessiveness.
To Graham’s surprise, Lucy and Blake were still in attendance and were making their way off the dance floor and toward him.
Lucy waited until she had his full attention. “Archbroke, you will not leave until I’ve had a word with you.”
Graham had worked with Lucy for many years, and he treated her more like a sister than an agent under his supervision. It brought him great pleasure to tease her in public, for most of the time their other interactions were of a serious nature. Adopting the obnoxious voice that made even him cringe at times, he said, “Lucy! I believe breeding has brought out your most endearing qualities.”
Lucy tugged on his arm and pulled him aside. “Archbroke, I’m in no mood tonight. I’ve had enough harassment from my beloved husband. I am fully aware that I have another human growing within me. I do not need to be reminded every five seconds.” Lucy cut him a look that said she was not in the mood for any more nonsense. “I want Lord Hadfield’s file.”
Graham cleared his throat. “Lord Hadfield has recently acquired the title. There is nothing of import in his file.”
“Don’t be obtuse, Archbroke. I want the old earl’s file, and I want it tomorrow.”
“Lucy, you know you are breaking all the rules by mentioning such things here. You should be reprimanded.”
Ignoring Graham’s comment, Lucy continued, “I’ll be by to pay you a visit in the afternoon.” Lucy turned and placed a hand on her husband’s lower back as he faced away from them to provide privacy.
“Damn women agents.”
Blake peered over his shoulder and said, “The office I work for—”
“Don’t even start, Devonton. Rein in your woman.”
Initially, Graham had been reluctant to work with Lucy directly. However, he was unable to find a male counterpart who was able to decipher codes as swiftly or effectively as Lucy. Over the course of the war, she had garnered his trust and admiration. Graham stared down at Lucy, who was impatiently tapping one foot. The woman was extremely stubborn and was sure to persist until he relented. “Very well. I’ll see you after luncheon.”
Graham was rewarded with a brilliant smile. He had to admit Lucy was easy on the eyes when she wasn’t scowling at him.
Lucy rubbed her slightly extended belly and peeked up at Devonton, “Blake, I will find you as soon as I return.”
Blake caught hold of his wife’s elbow and bent low for her to speak into his ear. Graham had impeccable hearing.
“I need to speak to Arabelle. I promise to leave after I’ve received her update.”
Last Season’s diamond? Hmm. Lord Hereford’s sister. What information had the Foreign Office agent sent to her that Lucy, an agent of his office, would need to obtain?
Lucy left her husband’s side and was making her way out of the ballroom. Once he was sure Lucy was out of earshot, he asked Devonton, “Do you know what she is up to?”
“My wife?”
“Yes. I can tell that Lucy is up to no good.”
The man’s lips twitched. “She is certainly up to something.”
Making the excuse of checking on his wife, Blake left Graham to ponder what scheme Lucy had concocted or had involved herself in.
Graham made an appearance in the card and billiards rooms but hadn’t yet engaged in either entertainment. He was ever mindful of Theo’s whereabouts and with whom she interacted. There was no shortage of gentlemen seeking her attention, and she was often partnered with one lord or another for a dance. She should be laughing and enjoying the attention, but instead, he found her smile was strained and her body taut and alert. He caught her often scanning her surroundings, not in an obvious manner but precisely as he himself had been taught.
His gut clenched. She was marked. But where on that exquisite body of hers would it reside? Images of him finding it on the underside of her breast, on the inside of her thigh, or perhaps on the round of her bottom flashed through his mind.
His own mark was on his left upper arm between his shoulder and elbow. It had prevented him from removing his shirt while being intimate with a woman, for no one but those marked themselves were allowed to lay eyes upon it.
Standing apart from the crowd and leaning on a column, Theo stifled a yawn. She apparently found the handsome young Markinson a bore. Markinson, two years Graham’s junior, still bore the trappings of youth in his face. Graham’s features reflected years of stress and worry which, according to Theo, made him appear well beyond his nine and twenty years.
Perhaps it was time he engaged in more physical activity. Dance more at these engagements, hone his fencing skills at Angelo’s or enter the ring at Gentleman Jackson’s instead of standing and watching the fights. His personal training had suffered the past three years since he had taken over as head of the Home Office. It should have kept him in relatively good shape. However, he was consistently stuck behind a desk.
Training. When to find the time. It would be challenging for a woman to have access to the facilities needed for training here in town. Perhaps he could conceive a plan that would allow him to spend more time with Theo, to evaluate her capabilities. What other possible reason could there be for him to want to spend time with this alluring woman? His interest in knowing how she would feel under him would have to remain a curiosity. Those were thoughts of the “do not consider” variety, and he tucked them away under lock and key. Compartmentalizing thoughts, and particularly feelings, was like breathing to him.
Glancing at his pocket watch, it was approaching midnight, and therefore the supper dance would be commencing soon. He left the ballroom and entered the gardens through the service entrance. Would Theo do the same, or would she enter the gardens via the terrace doors off the main ballroom? Graham was waiting in the shadows and nearly fell into the bushes when Theo whispered right behind him, “You are late.”