“Your gown is simply lovely,” Thea said honestly. “I beg you to furnish me with the dressmaker’s name after the dance. Please say you will.”
The fair-haired girl blushed furiously. “How kind of you to say so, Miss Tothill. Of course, I shall be happy to.”
Miss Birken’s partner, a gentleman Thea didn’t know, put a gloved hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn.
With an airy wave, Thea stepped back into line.
Farnborough observed her with an amused smile. “Did you discover the answer?”
Thea giggled. “I beg your pardon, Lord Farnborough, but I simply love the fashions this Season. Is not Miss Birken’s gown delightful?”
“Delightful,” Farnborough echoed, but his eyes remained on Thea. “As is your gown, Miss Tothill. The green satin trim matches your eyes.”
Thea grew hot with dread as his eyes raked her slowly from top to toe, then lingered on the pale crests of her bosom rising above her bodice with the same concentration he might display for a horse he wished to purchase at a Tattersall’s auction.
The dance allowed her to regain her composure. Her frivolous act may have dismissed any concerns he might harbor that she’d overheard something he said through the window, but instead, it woke something new in his manner, which unnerved her even more. He displayed more interest in her as a potential love interest. Instead of poking a snake, she might have stirred a sleeping tiger.Drat!Thea caught her bottom lip in her teeth. Grainger had much to answer for.
She danced with Farnborough down to the end of the row while Grainger remained uppermost in her mind. What had he meant when he promised to take matters into his own hands, should he consider it necessary? She couldn’t imagine what, but speculating brought warmth to her cheeks.
“I declare your maidenly blushes are captivating, Miss Tothill.” Farnborough smiled down at her, with eyes as cold as an arctic ice flow. “I like to think I am the cause of them.”
Thea’s throat tightened. With what she hoped was a flirtatious smile, she danced away from him, praying for the quadrille to end.
The conclusion of the dance seemed long in coming. He took her arm in that possessive manner, and they joined others gathering at the door of the supper room.
When he spoke to acquaintances, he introduced her. Thea grew fearful that he considered her for marriage, even though he’d given no hint of it. Did he plan to ask her father for her hand? Surely if she told Papa she didn’t like him, he would refuse him? She grew more desperate as the need to discover something to aid Grainger in his search for the victim of Farnborough’s scurrilous plan became even more urgent.
Farnborough assisted her to fill her plate from the vast array of foods at the supper table. They sat at a table with a glass of champagne. Thea’s stomach roiled too much to eat. She stabbed at a lobster patty with her fork. “Are your family with you in London, Lord Farnborough?”
“I have little family,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I have a stepdaughter, Julia. My wife was married before.”
Thea could find no sign of sorrow for his deceased wife, or affection for Julia, as he drank down the last of his champagne and signaled a footman for another.
“You must miss Julia,” she said tentatively. “Does she come often to London to visit you?”
He shook his head. “She mourns her mother. Girls of that age are difficult, Miss Tothill.”
“How sad for her to lose her mother.”
“I see you have a tender heart.”
“I imagine losing one’s mother at any age is devastating, but so young. She must be dreadfully lonely.”
His lips thinned. “Julia is not lonely. She boards with Mrs. Tyler at Ponder’s End, Middlesex, an excellent school where she has many friends.” He cut into a slice of ham and forked it into his mouth and chewed as if to put an end to the subject.
Thea attempted to eat, taking a tiny bite of the salty lobster. What could she safely ask him? “Do you prefer the city to the country, sir? I do enjoy riding. One cannot find a suitable mount in the city, and father says it is too expensive to keep a horse here.”
Amusement tugged at his thin lips. “When you marry, your husband might indulge you with a horse of your own, Miss Tothill.”
“Yes, that is what Father says. But I am happier in the country. The city is dangerous. One could be attacked by cutthroats when venturing out of doors.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “Only if you stray into the dangerous parts of the city.”
“How interesting. Do tell me where they might be found?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You are unlikely to wander into the rookery of St Giles or along the docks alone, Miss Tothill.”
Thea shuddered. “Nor do I wish to sail on the river. So murky and smelly.” She widened her eyes. “Some say there are many bodies in the Thames.”
