“Yes, sir. You had on a black cravat and your diamond pin with the gray pearl.”
His valet had a good memory, which was crucial if one didn’t want to show up at every ball or party looking precisely the same. Moreover, the man had enough discretion he neither raised an eyebrow at the notion of a woman in his master’s room, nor would ever mention it outside the four walls.
“Just so, Blumsey. Is it possible she came in here to steal from me?”
His valet remained silent and expressionless.
Then Jasper shook his head. “Why, yes, it is! She all but admitted she had. She said she was here for a token, a handkerchief! I bet she took something more valuable.”
“Indeed, sir.”
Such a response was intense for his unflappable valet.
“I shall see the very same female tonight at Pritchard’s ball, and I intend to confront her. Hurry, Blumsey.” Jasper held his hands out for his jacket. “I was going to show up fashionably late, but now I don’t want to chance missing her.”
***
JULIA KNEW HER QUARRYfor the evening, and it was an easy one. Lady Pritchard was renowned for wearing a different set of earrings every day of the year. The sheer quantity of her jewelry collection was astounding, and Julia intended to relieve her of a negligible, hopefully unnoticeable amount. With a little luck, the viscountess wouldn’t realize anything was missing until the following year.
After her mantle was stowed in the cloakroom of Lady Pritchard’s mansion on St James’s Square, Julia ascended the stairs to the public rooms. By her side was a married acquaintance of Sarah’s, Mrs. Zebodar. The matron had been eager to accompany her as a chaperone, disclosing in the carriage how bored she was at home. Her husband, an officer, had spent most of the past decade fighting Bonaparte’s army. Now home in jolly old England, Mr. Zebodar wanted to stay in his own parlor with his feet up and a glass of French brandy in hand to remind him of his victories.
“So glad your sister asked me,” Mrs. Zebodar said for the umpteenth time as they wandered into the dazzling ballroom.
Julia sent a discerning gaze over the evening’s setting. The parquet floor shone like a mirror, and the flame of oil lamps danced merrily all around the great room, augmenting the chandeliers. The musicians were warming up, and with the early guests who’d already arrived, one could smell the familiar fragrances of citrus, rose, lavender, and the pervasive bay scent.
The distraction of a crowded ball would be perfect. Julia could accomplish her task before the midnight meal and then relax and potentially enjoy herself.
“You look lovely,” Mrs. Zebodar added, gesturing to Julia’s blue satin dress. “I shall begin at once my task of securing you a husband.”
“Oh,” Julia said, stopping in her tracks. “I thought you would simply keep me company and make sure I didn’t wander out into the garden with some ne’er-do-well.”
The matron nodded. “Those are my tasks, too. But any good chaperone must help secure an appropriate beau for her charge. Matchmaking is definitely under my purview, and I relish the notion.”
“Really?” Julia would have to take this up with Sarah when she got home. She didn’t want to be Mrs. Zebodar’scharge, nor was she interested in the woman’s matchmaking abilities. If she wanted a man, why, she could simply turn around and smile at the first one she laid eyes on.
Testing out her theory, Julia turned and spotted the Earl of Marshfield bearing down upon her, looking purposeful despite a pleasant expression. A delicious frisson of excitement sizzled down her spine.
“Miss Sudbury, how delightful to see you again,” he said, his dark gaze locking with hers, as he took her gloved hand in his and bowed over it.
“Lord Marshfield, we meet again.”
“Tut, tut,” Mrs. Zebodar said. “This is highly inappropriate.”
“No, it’s quite all right,” Julia explained. “I was at the earl’s home for dinner recently, so we’ve already been introduced, and nothing could be more appropriate.”
“My lord, you should have spoken to me first,” Mrs. Zebodar insisted, bristling and staring the earl down. “Nor should you have so freely taken the young lady’s hand.”
At this, Julia pulled her hand free from his warm grasp.
“Truly,” the earl said with a frown. “But I am already acquainted with Miss Sudbury, while you and I have not yet been introduced. For all I know, you are in your first Season and she isyourchaperone. You cannot be more than sixteen, surely.”
Julia nearly groaned at the bold flattery. However, the matron put a hand to her chest and blatantly blushed, her mouth forming a pout and her eyelashes fluttering.
“Very well, sir. I suppose mistakes can be made and forgiven. I am the young lady’s chaperone, Mrs. Zebodar.”
He took the woman’s hand and bowed over it.
Julia stared at the woman. As a chaperone, Mrs. Zebodar was probably useless, easily won over by a notorious rake or undoubtedly any man with a smooth tongue. And that was a good thing, for while she wanted the protection of keeping a good reputation, which Sarah’s’ married friend could provide, she didn’t want to be under anyone’s thumb.
