Thea flushed and fussed with her gloves. She disliked being discussed as if she weren’t there.
Grandmama’s hand gently squeezed her arm.
Thea curtsied. “How do you do.”
“Charming,” Lord Fairchild observed before turning to greet another couple coming up behind them.
The master of ceremonies, a short, balding man with what proved to be a booming voice, announced them to the assembled guests.
A few heads turned to observe them, and friends hurried to greet her grandmama. When the flurry of introductions ebbed, Thea searched for Grainger in the crush. Thankfully, because he was tall, she soon spotted him, talking to a red-haired lady and the large, dark-haired gentleman he was with at the last ball.
Like a ship entering a harbor, Grandmama steered a course toward a gathering of her friends who sat together.
“I should like to talk to Miss Birken.” Thea gestured with her fan toward a young debutante that she’d met at the last ball, sitting alone on a bench.
“Certainly. But be sure to return soon. And not after the musicians take up their instruments,” Grandmama said with a frown.
“I will, Grandmama,” she said meekly.
While her grandmother talked to her friends, Thea slipped away, moving in Grainger’s direction through the clusters of chatting people. She spied a gap and, once through it, found herself unnervingly close to Lord Farnborough.
Her heart pounding, she raised her fan to her face and edged away.
He turned and saw her. “Ah, Miss Tothill,” he called after her. With a gesture, he left the lady in blue with tall peacock feathers in her hair and approached Thea. “How pleasing to find you well. Surely you have not forgotten your promise? You will save the next dance for me,” he said jovially.
Thea swallowed, the lump blocking her throat. “Delighted, sir.” She forced herself to smile. “If you’ll excuse me…”
His pale eyes seemed to look through her. “But of course.”
Farnborough sounded put out. He turned back to the lady in blue, who frowned at Thea over his shoulder.
She wondered why he showed such an interest in her. Was it because he’d seen her in the garden when he stood at the window? She gasped as icy fear ran through her veins. It was unlikely surely, as Grainger had quickly dragged her into the shadows. Still, she did wonder. He was a wealthy man, and she could detect no sign he’d become enamored of her. If he sought a young woman to bear his children, there were many here tonight. Was it because of his friendship with her father?
The cotillion had been danced earlier, so the next would be a country dance. Thea hurried to where she’d last seen Grainger, near the archway leading into the gaming room. He was no longer there. She turned away, frustrated. Only men were at the tables. She could hardly venture inside to look for him.
Bother! She turned to survey the crowd without success. The musicians had taken their seats on the dais, and the master of ceremonies stepped up about to call the dance. Thea hurried back to her chair.
Moments later, dancers gathered on the dance floor for the country dance. Farnborough made his way across to her. She would have to endure his company for this dance. She might learn something of interest from him if she phrased her questions carefully. He offered her his arm. She swallowed as she rested the tips of her fingers on his sleeve. One glance from those cold eyes made her skin crawl. She tried not to look into his face remembering the savage growl as he condemned a man to a horrible death.
A thought struck her. This was only the second of twelve dances. Would she have a chance to talk to Grainger? She could only hope he would see her dancing with Farnborough and come to find her afterward.
His hand tightened on hers, drawing her attention to him. His brows met in a frown. “Will you grant me the supper dance, Miss Tothill?
She wanted so much to say no, but her father stood beside her grandmama’s chair. They both watched her. Seeing no way out of it, Thea offered a strained smile. “I shall be delighted, sir.”
His brisk nod made it seem as if it was never in debate, for surely no one would ever refuse him. Thea suffered the impulse to trip him up as he danced her down to the end of the line. She steeled herself to be pleasant. If she could gain his confidence, he might let something slip, which might be of interest to Grainger.
Honoring his promiseto his grandfather, Ash took to the floor with a debutante on his arm. It unnerved him to see Miss Tothill dancing with the man Ash now knew as Farnborough. What was he up to? They danced down the center. When she and Farnborough parted, Thea’s eyes met Ash’s with an urgent plea.
Ash frowned as the dance took him away. What had occurred to bring those two together? Was her father an associate of Farnborough’s? This complicated matters in what was a worrying business. Would Miss Tothill unwittingly place herself in danger? She seemed intelligent but so keen she might find herself caught up in an intrigue. Well, he was just as determined she would not be.
Whatever she was up to, she really was a most unusual girl, he thought, gazing appreciatively at her graceful movements, the blaze of light from the chandelier brightening her hair.
At the conclusion of the dance, Ash returned his partner to her mother, who darted hopeful glances at him, then went in search of Reade, who he’d seen earlier with Joanna.
Ash drew him away from a group of friends to where no one would overhear them.
Reade raised his dark eyebrows. “Any news?”
