Will clasped a hand around her upper arm as he led them through the crowd. It had been ages since he had been surrounded by so many people who hadn’t a clue he was a duke—or even simply a wealthy man. Will hadn’t realized just how used he had become to being fawned over or yielded to, which was highly annoying.
At first he tried saying “Excuse me” and “Pardon,” but the beer-spilling oaf had the right idea. Will finally began to shoulder his way through the crowd. A few men cast dark looks at them, but turned away at Will’s answering scowl. He straightened a little more, feeling absurdly proud.
Once they reached the bar, Phoebe placed her hands on the counter and stood on her tiptoes to address the stone-faced man behind the bar. “Hello. We’re looking for a woman named Maude,” she said, deepening her voice. It was about as convincing as that pair of trousers plastered to her rump. “Is she here?”
Predictably, the barman’s expression remained unchanged as he continued polishing the pint glass in his hands. “Depends.”
She frowned in confusion, but Will took over. “Two ales.”
He gave a single nod and went to pour their drinks.
“Oh, good idea,” Phoebe said sheepishly.
When the man returned, Will paid him double. “She’s over there,” he said, gesturing to a far corner of the room. “In the red.”
“Thank you,” Will said with a nod. They took their pints and sat down at an empty table nearby.
Phoebe leaned across the table. “I can see her,” she whispered as she looked over Will’s shoulder. “She’s alone.” He began to glance back, but Phoebe placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t!”
He shot her an irritated look. “I can be discreet.”
Phoebe sat back in her chair. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We don’t have to talk to her.”
“No, we must,” she insisted. “Or else this whole night will be a waste.”
Will knew she meant the search for her student, but that didn’t stop the prickle of hurt. He took a sip of his pint and made a show of casually turning to look at the stage, while also casting a glance at Maude. Like Phoebe said, she was sitting alone at a table set back from the others, but there was also a very large man standing close behind her.
“I think that fellow is a guard of some sort.”
“I noticed him too. Isn’t that strange?”
Will shrugged. “Not necessarily. Her dress looks fashionable. She could be someone’s mistress.” And there were plenty of men who made sure their asset was protected.
“I didn’t know you paid attention to fashion,” Phoebe teased.
“I spend a large amount of time in ballrooms,” he said sourly.
The light in her eyes faded. “Yes, Freddie says you’re practically engaged to Lord Fairbanks’s daughter.”
“I’m not,” he said far too quickly.
Phoebe took a considering sip. “But you will be,” she pointed out. “Soon.”
Before he could respond, something caught Phoebe’s attention. “She’s getting up.”
Phoebe shoved her chair back but Will caught her arm. “Slowly,” he cautioned.
Together they approached the woman as she headed toward the back of the music hall.
“Let me talk,” Will whispered to Phoebe as he caught the woman’s eye and gave a wave. She let out a huff but didn’t protest.
“Excuse me, madam,” Will said. “May we have just a moment of your time?”
She was quite striking up close, with dark red hair and generous curves. While her features were too bold to be considered truly beautiful, she possessed a magnetism that commanded Will’s attention. Her blue eyes ran down his form in a blatant look of appraisal before returning to his face. “For you I have two,” she said with a coquettish smile.
Beside him, Phoebe’s shoulders tightened. “Are you Maude?”
