Regardless, she kept working the room. Keeping her senses open not only for the conversation taking place in front of her but also all around her. One never knew when a word, a voice, an accent, would wind its way into her ear.
Soon, she would have to confer with Nathaniel. See if he had discovered something on his own. He had not stayed in the ballroom for long. Just enough to throw her a meaningful look that no one but her would interpret, and then he had slid out like a shadow. Where had he gone? If he knew him at all—and she rather fancied she did—he would have gone to explore the more…debauched parts of the club. No doubt in an attempt to protect her sensibilities.
She inwardly snorted. But maybe it was for the best that they didn’t have to explore the more intimate areas of the club together. Her heart might not survive that.
What sort of ruse would he use to provide them with a moment to talk in private? Unless they wanted to remove themselves from the public rooms, privacy would not be easy to come by. No matter. He would find the time and place when he saw fit.
Her senses prickled with awareness, sensing he was near again. She nodded to the rather imposing figure of a gentlemandressed as Zeus, offered a polite smile, and then did a double take as she thought she recognized Dalton in the guise of King of Olympus.
Wanting to confirm her suspicions, she excused herself from her current group. Turning, she took a step…and almost collided with the dark figure of Nathaniel.
“Persephone,” he said, raking her with a thorough look. It was for the benefit of others; if they were going to be seen conferring in private, everyone should believe they had libidinous purposes, but she didn’t think it was much of a stretch for them to play the part of lustful lovers. “May I steal you away for a season?”
“But it is not yet winter, Hades,” she replied, following the pretense.
“It is always winter in my palace. Only you bring spring and life to my desolate realm. Maybe I could hope to convince you to stay with me for a while.”
Her gut clenched. He was merely referencing the legend and spouting double entendres because that’s what was expected of this place. And yet, his words seemed to be flowing straight from his heart. Speaking to hers. They brought home just how much they resembled the legendary mismatched couple.
Smiling seductively to cover how shaken she really was, she placed her gloved hand in his outstretched one and allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom. Just outside, in the hallway, a few people walked by; some climbed the stairs in pairs, or threesomes…or groups.
Walking a few paces down the hallway, he led her into a small niche under the staircase. The space was occupied by an erotic statue of a naked man and a woman in a suggestive embrace—all the artwork in this place seemed to be expressly designed to inflame the passions—but there was space for them behind thestatue. They wouldn’t be concealed from anyone who walked by the hallway, but at least they would enjoy a modicum of privacy.
Positioning her with her back against the wall, he braced a hand near her head and leaned in. However, before he spoke, she asked, “Was that Dalton?”
Nathaniel’s lips twitched. “Dressed as Zeus? Yes, that’s him. Good eye spotting him. The man is nearly unrecognizable. He was on the way to the card room to scout that area. Trying to avoid the most salacious entertainments of the club, no doubt. He’ll soon discover there’s no escaping debauchery within these walls.” He brushed his lips against the whorl of her ear as he whispered, “Have you located any of our targets, Persephone?”
His nearness made her heart trip over itself and stutter, the scent of his cologne, threaded with the subtle essence of him filled her nose. The warmth of his body, so close to hers, seared her front. She ached to place her hand on his chest, feel the hard contours, slide it lower, to another sort of hardness, and then close her fist around it. The atmosphere of this place was surely affecting her, for she couldn’t control her libidinous thoughts. Alice hoped her inner turmoil was not evident in her voice as she responded. “Not yet. I think I’ve conversed with everyone on this level, and I’m reasonably confident he’s not here yet. No sign of any pregnant woman either. Or even a corpulent one. How about you?”
“Same. I’ve covered the second floor. It’s more difficult to do reconnaissance there, for that’s where the bedchambers are. But I’ve peeked into each one, and none of them contain our man or the widow.”
He said this against her neck, grazing her earlobe with his lips, provoking pleasure to shoot through her body. She knew it was all a performance, but her knees nearly buckled under the surge of desire. It was an effort to gather her wits to reply.
“Maybe the widow won’t be in the main rooms. I’ve been thinking; the clerk and his wife were not rich. They would not have access to an exclusive club such as this one. Maybe she knows someone among the staff.”
“Perhaps. Or it could be that the higher-ups arranged for their admission to make the deliveries.”
“Either way, we need to search the staff corridors and the kitchen.”
“We will.”
His heated gaze made her face warm. They were standing too close. She turned her face, took a deep breath to try to regain the control this close proximity with her husband was having on her…just in time to catch a flicker of movement at the end of the corridor—a flash of a familiar figure. Dalton. He strode past with the silent urgency of a predator, his gaze locked ahead.
“Dalton, he’s chasing someone,” she murmured.
Nathaniel tensed, his hand tightening slightly at her waist. It was obvious he had seen Dalton walk by as well.
“Let’s go,” he replied, grabbing her by the hand and towing her behind him.
They slipped from the alcove as one, moving like shadows against the velvet-draped walls. Alice’s pulse thudded in her ears, her senses sharpening as they fell into the rhythm of pursuit. Ahead of them, Dalton cut a striking figure in his dark coat, his purposeful strides silent on the thick carpet.
“I spotted her in the card room,” Dalton murmured over his shoulder as they caught up to him at a junction of two dimly lit corridors. “Gray cloak, low hood. She slipped out just as I entered. Come.”
They didn’t need further prompting. Together, they swept down a narrower hall, the air cooler here, scented faintly of polish and candle smoke. The woman’s cloak swirled at the end of the passage—a fleeting glimpse of motion that drew them on.
Alice gathered her skirts in one hand, careful not to trip as they took a sharp turn into another hallway. The din of music and laughter grew fainter behind them. Nathaniel’s hand brushed her elbow briefly, steadying her when her hem snagged on a protruding nail in the floorboards. She yanked it free, muttering a curse under her breath.
“There—she went through that door,” Dalton shouted back, a few paces ahead of them.
