“Your highness.” Reade bowed deeply.
“What news?” Prinny waved his hands at the rest of the men. “Get out, all of you.”
When the door closed on the last of them, Reade said, “We need to pursue the matter. Find the culprit to settle down the rumors.”
Prinny shrugged. “Storm in a teacup.”
“We must double the guard.”
“No. Make no changes.” Prinny stared into the distance. “The people wish to see me. Let them do so.”
His attitude didn’t surprise Reade. Despite the indulgent way he lived, Prinny was not one to fuss over an attack on his life. “What have you discovered concerning these missing women?”
“We have two strong suspects. They are being followed.”
Prinny nodded. “I rely on you to bring this swiftly to an end.”
Finally dismissed, Reade wondered again about Prinny’s interest and why this became a matter for the Home Office instead of Bow Street. He knew better than to ask the regent. No doubt, the answer would come when the villains were all either dead or imprisoned.
He went home to change for the formal dinner he was to attend that evening, thinking of Miss Joanna Dalrymple, who lived in Upper Brook Street. A coincidence? Or something more? Should he be worried about her? It would be wise to look out for her. Cartwright would accuse him of falling for the lady. It would please his friend to believe it, but Reade had no intention of it.
Chapter Eight
The Feldman’s routwas just as Letty described. Beautifully dressed guests crammed the reception rooms, gathered around the men who enthralled them with their witty repartee.
The air was humid with an occasional rumble of thunder in the distance, but it had not yet rained. Such a crush made the rooms unpleasant, the atmosphere heavily laden with scent and sweat. Jo longed to escape for a breath of fresh air.
Mr. Cartwright and her father went into the salon to play a game of whist. Letty’s husband seemed to have taken to him, for they shared an enthusiasm for farming. Although her father no longer owned any land, he had an excellent knowledge of farming practices.
Aunt Mary had found an old friend. They’d been debutantes together many years ago and now sat discussing the famous scandals that rocked thebon tonback when they were young.
Jo’s new acquaintance, Charlotte Graham, did not appear. Jo knew none of the smartly dressed guests, but she refused to cling to the Cartwrights. After Letty’s mama-in-law joined them, Jo excused herself to wander the rooms, attempting to look as if she had a purpose and a place to go. A string quartet competed with the vociferous guests. There was to be no dancing, which Jo considered a dreadful waste of fine music.
Mr. Ollerton must not have received an invitation, for he was not here tonight. Neither was Lord Reade. Did she regret Reade’s absence more than Ollerton’s? Jo chewed her bottom lip. She was losing focus. The plan she’d conceived for a contented, quiet life no longer seemed to appeal. But she must give Mr. Ollerton a chance, should he wish it. They had hardly spoken, for he seldom appeared at the same social gatherings as she did. And they were yet to drive to the park.
Routs were not her favorite entertainment, Jo decided as she fanned herself and scanned the crowd one more time for anyone she knew.
In the supper room, a lavish display of dishes awaited the guests, but it was too hot to eat. Jo took a glass of cider from a footman’s tray.
As the evening progressed, the heat seemed to worsen. Some of the candles drooped in the silver candelabrum. The drink had done little to cool her. She entered the drawing room, where many guests gathered. Some wandered out through the French doors onto the terrace.
A refreshing breeze drew Jo to the door. The gardens looked mysterious and beautiful in the lantern light. Could she roam the garden paths alone? There were people doing just that. Perhaps if she didn’t go far?
Jo was outside before she knew it and gratefully inhaling the cooler, leaf-scented air.
Guests gathered at the far end of the terrace, engaged in heated disagreement. Something to do with the prime minister and a pamphlet. It was awkward standing alone. Jo feared they might think she was eavesdropping. She descended the steps into the garden, where well-ordered paths led off through clipped hedges and shrubbery.
A couple laughingly made their way back toward the house and glanced curiously at her as they passed. Jo lowered her head and hurried on. She approached a break in the trees and emerged onto a freshly scythed lawn to find a large fountain filled with waterlilies and lit by two braziers. Even the sight of water was refreshing. “Would anyone mind if I took off my slippers and stockings and cooled my feet?” she murmured with a smile, admiring the marble statue of some Roman god at its center.
“I wouldn’t object, Miss Dalrymple. Please do.”
She had thought herself alone. When Jo turned, Lord Reade stood before her in his black and white evening clothes, laughter in his eyes. She drew in a sharp breath, annoyed at how pleased she was to see him. “Does it amuse you to sneak up on people, sir?”
He grinned. “The grass muffled my footsteps. I’m sorry if I alarmed you. I admit to being tempted to remain silent, however. In hope, you might lift your skirts and wade in the fountain.”
Jo bit her lip to stop from smiling. “I had no intention of it.”
“An unpleasantly hot evening, is it not? The water looks cool. Shall we do it together? Or do you think there are fish in it?”
