“Your job is to infiltrate theton.”
“What?” She frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“Remember what you said about poison being a lady’s weapon?”
Brows drawn, she gave a slow nod. “But that was just conjecture. We don’t have any specific evidence to support—”
“That is where you come in. I want you to circulate amongst my peers. Keep your eyes and ears open for any suspicious activity, particularly where ladies are involved.”
“But I don’t know the first thing about high society,” she protested.
“I need your help, Emma.”
With those five words, he had her. How could she deny his request—deny him anything—when he looked at her with such mesmerizing warmth in his eyes?
Swallowing, she said, “What sort of suspicious activity would I be monitoring?”
“Gossip, for one thing. Amongst theton, it is a powerful weapon. It often holds fragments of the truth and may yield clues to the killer’s identity.” He paused, leveled a challenging look at Ambrose. “If you don’t believe me, ask your brother.”
Ambrose’s brows knotted. After a minute, he said curtly, “It is true that gossip can be a source of important information.”
“See?” Alaric’s broad shoulders lifted. “I would do this myself, but people don’t dare to talk about me to my face. That is why I need you: an investigator with excellent observation skills, someone I can rely upon.”
Touched by his trust, she searched his face. “This isn’t some ploy to distract me from the real danger, is it? You really think I could learn something important just by listening?”
“Emma, you have the ability to do what your brother and his partners cannot: you can blend in with the ladies, conduct reconnaissance in drawing rooms and ballrooms undetected. And let me be clear:allyou’re to do is listen. You’ll take no risks, and you’ll report anything you hear directly to me and your brother. Is that understood?” His gaze locked with hers until she gave a nod. “If I am asking too much of you, pet—”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see you safe.” She wouldn’t have him believing otherwise, not when he was entrusting her with so vital a mission. “I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you.” His slow smile dazzled her senses. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”
“Wait. What arrangements?”
“You can’t go sleuthing about without the proper equipment. In order to operate amongst theton, you’ll need a few supplies. I will, of course, bear the expense for them.”
Before she could ask whatsupplieshe was referring to, he said to Marianne, “You would not mind chaperoning Emma, Mrs. Kent?”
“Not at all.” Marianne’s lips gave an odd twitch. “Are there any particular, er, investigative opportunities you’d like us to pursue, your grace?”
“Start with the Blackwood Ball,” Alaric said. “Their parties are guaranteed crushes.”
“And quite exclusive,” Marianne murmured.
“Lord Blackwood is a friend of mine and can be trusted to be discreet. I’ll secure your invitations.”
Emma’s stomach lurched at the prospect of attending so elevated an affair, but she reminded herself that she’d do anything to help protect Alaric’s life—including navigating theton’s treacherous waters.
Alaric addressed her brother. “Kent, I’ll expect to be notified when Will identifies the gunsmith.”
His expression carved in stone, Ambrose jerked his chin in reply.
Alaric rose, bowing first to Marianne and then taking Emma’s hand. When his lips skimmed over her knuckles, longing shivered over her.
“You won’t regret our bargain, sweeting.” His pale green irises smoldered with silver smoke as he murmured, “Once this is over, I will come to you a free man and make no mistake: wewillsettle things between us.”
“Is that a promise or a threat?” She wrinkled her nose.
His lips took on a faint, wicked curve. “Either way, pet, it means you’re going to be mine.”
