Did she even want that? If he offered to take her back, would she come back to him? Maybe her unfaithfulness had been due to loneliness. Did she regret it now that they saw each other again? Or was what she felt only lust brought about by their nearness and the memory of their undeniable physical compatibility?
Too many questions, and none he could answer tonight. Right now, he needed to get back to the ballroom.
The music from the party swelled with every step he took along the corridor. When it intersected another corridor, he turned left. Here, some people loitered about, taking a respite from the dancing or engaging in quieter conversations. He slipped back into the ballroom through a side door.
They had gotten a good look at the men. Although he didn’t see the face of the one that had been facing away from them, he thought the man had light hair, a corpulent build, was perhaps in his fifties, and seemed someone important within the embassy. A high official. His tone and accent had marked him so. The other man was younger. Wiry build, black straight hair, a prominent nose and sunken cheeks. Possibly an underling who did the dirty work. They had a good look at that one. If he was in the ballroom, he would get his name.
By the end of the night, after visiting the card room, talking to almost everyone in the ballroom and dancing again with Yelena, making subtle attempts to get her to talk about the people that were of interest to him, he had to admit that a tactical retreat was in order. He had not spotted the men again, but at least they had information and a good description to report to Dalton. Asinvestigations went, this one had gotten off to a good start. Even if they had found the revelations almost by accident.
Besides, his mind was not on the hunt. Thoughts of his wife kept intruding. He would have left hours ago, but he was loath to leave Alice alone. As a server, she would have to stay until the end of the party and possibly help clean up after. She had taken a much more difficult role than he in this charade. He knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself. Had been doing just that for the past five years. He couldn’t linger past the end of the party, but he still delayed his departure, telling himself he was being thorough in his investigation, while keeping track of her movements with that extra sense he possessed where she was concerned.
In the end, he left the ball at dawn, with just enough time to go home, sleep a couple of hours and report to Dalton’s office at nine in the morning.
Alice was already there, and while she had discarded the costume, washed off the makeup, and changed into the sober morning dresses she usually wore to the office, it was obvious she had had little to no sleep. Shadows bruised the underside of her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. This time not from a pretense at meekness but from real exhaustion.
He was not ready for the surge of protectiveness that swamped him as he contemplated her tired smile and terse nod. She was a real trooper and would never complain, never shirk or postpone her duty. But all he wanted to do was snatch her in his arms, take her home, remove every stitch of clothing and place her in her soft bed. Then he would curl up around her and protect her while she slept. When she awakened, they would make love, slow and deep, savoring each stroke in the wonderful awakening languor.
Insanity, of course. He could only imagine her reaction if he tried something like that in their present situation.
Dalton’s voice yanked him out of his fantasy.
“Alice tells me you made some progress at the Russian Embassy ball last night.”
Nathaniel nodded, beginning the recount of all they had discovered. Including the descriptions of the two men, the possible motives, and the deal with the missing widow. “We confirmed that the clerk was indeed assassinated because he apparently got ‘cold feet’. That his wife probably went into hiding, and they suspect she has some important documents, and that she, or someone, plans to pass them along during the masquerade at the Black Swan.”
Dalton raised his brows. “The Black Swan? That is a peculiar venue for a woman in her condition to visit.”
“A woman in her condition?” Alice inquired.
“She’s expecting,” Dalton said baldly.
Alice gasped, while Nathaniel’s fists clenched. Burning anger flared through him. Those bastards had killed her husband and now planned to kill a pregnant woman.
“We need to find her before they do, Dalton. They will kill her after she delivers the documents they want.”
Dalton nodded somberly, frowning. “I suspected that might be the case. Even feared they might have gotten to her already. I’m glad that is not so. We will protect her, but we need to find her first.”
They all nodded, their faces somber with the magnitude of the task. This had always been a high stakes mission—when the security of the nation was involved it always was—but the fact that the life of a woman and her unborn child now weighed on the balance as well gave it a sense of immediacy. It made it more human. More personal.
“Do we know anything at all about her possible whereabouts? Any family, friends she could be staying with? Where is she from? What is her background?”
Alice’s fusillade of questions had Dalton raising his hands.
“We know next to nothing about her. We keep a dossier on all the Foreign Office employees, but not on their spouses.”
“Damn it. Anyone else in the Office who might have known them?” Nathaniel asked.
“Maybe. But since we don’t know who else is involved, we can hardly go asking around the office, can we? That is bound to raise suspicion.”
“If someone involved knew about her background and where to look for her, they would have her already,” Alice said.
“Exactly. But if we go digging around, asking about her, they will know we are on the trail,” Dalton added.
“True, true. Well, at least we know where she might be this coming Friday. If she is indeed the one who sent the message, she might be at the Black Swan masquerade,” Nathaniel said.
“Let us hope she can stay hidden until then,” Alice said, a frown of concern pinching her brow. “What is this place, anyway, this Black Swan?”
“Only the most expensive and exclusive pleasure club in London,” Nathaniel informed her and shot Dalton a look, continuing in a grim voice. “Membership is expensive, and by invitation only.”
