“Forgive my interruption,” he said smoothly, “but I wished to thank our hostess for the quality of her guest list.”
Lady Mordaunt’s lips curved. “We do our best. But you, Lord Rathbourne, seem restless. I hope you are not plotting an escape.”
“On the contrary,” Graham said. “I have learned more in this room than in a year of briefings.”
Ashdown laughed, pleased.
Lady Mordaunt’s eyes narrowed. “What have you learned?”
“That the most dangerous conversations,” Graham replied, “are the ones in which nothing is said outright.”
“An apt observation,” Mordaunt said at last. “Perhaps you will share more at supper.”
“If I live so long,” Graham returned, bowing.
Eleanor excused herself for a breath.
Outside, the street glistened with rain, and a lamplighter’s pole moved like a slow metronome against fog.
In the glass, Graham’s reflection appeared behind her.
“You saw the pins,” he murmured.
“Four,” Eleanor whispered. “Possibly five.”
He nodded once. “I follow the man in spectacles. You watch the woman who reacted.”
“Lady Mordaunt knows everything,” Eleanor said. “She is testing us.”
“She is always testing,” Graham murmured. “But she will not move unless threatened.”
Eleanor straightened her gloves. “Then let us be threatening.”
* * *
They left with the crowd, moving as though they belonged to the flow of polite departures.
At the door Lady Mordaunt pressed a kiss to Eleanor’s cheek, her voice sweet as syrup. “You must come again. Your wit is a delight.”
The forget-me-not at Mordaunt’s wrist caught the light, each vein picked out in silk.
“Thank you for a most instructive evening,” Eleanor returned.
As they descended the steps, a footman offered a small, practiced apology. “The only carriage left, miss—everything else has been hired away for the opera.”
Graham’s attention sharpened at once.
The driver waiting on the box was too clean-shaven, too intent, too careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. Not Lady Mordaunt’s own, either—his livery was plain, his gloves new.
A substitute.
A message.
Graham assisted Eleanor inside with speed that still looked like civility, then entered after her and shut the door.
“If there is trouble, you do not run toward it,” he said.
Eleanor’s gaze remained on the rain-streaked window. “That is not your decision.”
