Hell, he was right.
After a tense moment, Ben sighed. “Give me five minutes to get in. Then find the path behind the conservatory.”
“And how am I to reach…” His voice trailed.
“You’ll have to enlighten me eventually, Emerson,” Ben told him mildly.
“I think I like it better when you were too soused to remember anything resembling coherence,” he muttered.
Ben’s eyes lit with amusement, but he remained quiet.
“Lady Stanford,” Emerson said through gritted teeth.
“Lady—ah, yes, well, that is a conundrum.” Ben’s tone grew much too flippant for Emerson’s liking.
He glared at him.
Ben laughed. “All right.” He lowered his voice. “There’s a side entrance. Tell the footman you’re Mr. Phipps and there is an emergency for me. He owes me six guineas and a favor. We’ll tell him you must speak to me privately. In the meantime, I’ll locate Lady Stanford for you and drag her kicking and screaming to the library.”
The vice gripping Emerson’s chest released. “I somehow doubt you shall have to drag her kicking and screaming. Not to the library. I half suspect that is exactly where you’ll find her.” He started for the side of the building, but Ben stopped him.
“Oh, and, uh, Emerson, might I suggest upgrading your attire?” The amusement in Ben’s voice sliced through him.
He glanced down.Jesus.“Of course.” He had a miracle to construct and not much time to enact it. Lucky for him, Amir was a miracle worker.
Twenty-Six
“Goodness, what a crush.” Rebecca was furiously fanning herself as Gabriella and Rose followed her into Peachornsby’s main ballroom. It wasn’t just a crush. It was suffocatingly hot despite the chilly autumn weather outside.
The chandeliers were ablaze with a thousand points of light that indeed sprouted a line of dampness along Rose’s forehead. Thankfully, her hair hid this unsightly line. She thought she might faint if she didn’t get air. “Will Sebastian and Huntley be joining us tonight?” she asked, surveying the crowd. Only, she wasn’t looking for her brother or brother-in-law.
Annoyingly, she found herself searching for a tall, less than gentlemanly individual, even though she was furious with him for treating her like a child. One shouldn’t be treated as a child when one wore a gown of the softest midnight velvet studded with diamonds throughout and a bodice that exposed far more than was proper for a woman who was supposed to be in mourning.
“Of course,” Rebecca said.
It took Rose a second to recall her own question on whether Sebastian would be joining them. She had her doubts Rebecca’s delicate fan would survive the evening.
“The thought has my feet aching,” she went on. “Sebastian is under strict instruction to take only one dance with me tonight, and only after I’ve had, at the least, one glass of punch. Appropriately spiked, I hope.”
Gabriella laughed. “Our brotherneverfollows instructions. You know that.”
Rose ignored the light bantering with a faint smile. Gabriella and Rebecca could trade barbs about their husbands all evening, but she had other matters on her mind.
“I’m sure Huntley hasn’t yet arrived,” Gabriella said. “He had a meeting with Liverpool that notoriously runs late.”
“When have they never ran late?” Rebecca asked. “You married the most industrious man in England.”
A graceful shrug lifted Gabriella’s shoulder. “At least I always know where he is. Usually.”
They both laughed.
Rose nodded politely, her fingers tightening around her own fan dangling from her wrist. The ball was already beginning to blur—silks and lace and cravats in endless motion—but all she could think of was Peachornsby’s study. Unfortunately, she possessed no talent for opening a concealed strongbox.
“What on earth has you so preoccupied, Rose?” Gabriella’s teasing voice broke through her thoughts, and Rose could feel her face grow warm.
“I’ve no idea your meaning,” she said in a lame attempt of nonchalance.
“Well, whoever you were thinking of, by that scowl you’ve affected, I wouldn’t care to be in his shoes when you run into him,” Gabriella said with a sly smile.
