He groaned. “We likely shouldn’t speak of blood.” He led her through the swift pace, then asked, “Is Miss Lockhart safe?”
“For now,” she said grimly.
Relief flashed his features.
“She’s at Hope House.” Rose opted not to mention her open apology to the other young women. “I am told she ate two slices of bread, which I took as an excellent sign.”
A breathless laugh escaped him. “Thank God.”
They finished the dance in silence, then Ben led her to the far side of the ballroom to a table of tepid lemonade. It took only a moment to decide she could trust him. “If you must know, Viola’s aunt turned her out a few days ago. I overheard a couple of debutantes discussing her.”
“Whitefriars,” he breathed.
“Yes. I—”
“You went after her, and Emerson followed.”
“Yes,” she confirmed on a sigh. “It was a near thing too,” she said softly.
“Why was Miss Lockhart turned out?”
“I, um, am unsure of all the details”—a true enough statement—“but, thankfully, I was able to locate her.”
His gaze strayed to the deplorable woman. “And now I’ve put you and Miss Lockhart in immediate peril.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Emerson is not going to be happy.”
“There’s no reason to bring your brother into the equation. He and Sebastian are—”
“Sebastian?”
“As I mentioned, he is with my brother, the Duke of Ryleigh. They’re on their way to Canterbury.”
“Heavens, Emerson must be having a grand time,” he said on a breath of huffed laughter. “He is not especially fond of the peerage.”
Rose smiled. “I’m quite aware.” She grew thoughtful. “You know, this presents a unique opportunity.”
He tilted his head. “The blackmailer?” The words fell between them, soft and anticipatory.
“I don’t suppose you have tools on your person designed to gain access…?” She paused, unsure how to exactly frame the question.
“Gain access—” Ben stopped with a shocked sputter.
“Never mind. This is still an excellent time to have a quick look. Just one,” she said murmured.
“If we’re caught…” His voice trailed off.
She threw back her shoulders, but then a rational moment pricked her and she glanced about for her sister and sister-in-law. “We’ll be careful,” she said softly.
The Norfolks’ study was on an upper level of the massive house, and after peering in many doors, Rose and her crime partner-in-arms found what they were searching for at the end of a long corridor. A plush Persian carpet muted their footsteps. There was a low fire in the hearth staving off the chilled night. Still, Rose shivered in the warmth.
“Check the desk,” she whispered. “But hurry.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Anything that indicates some sort of threatening note against you, or Emerson, or the warehouse.”
He started toward the desk, then froze. “Someone’s coming.”
“What? I don’t hear any—”
