Beau nodded. “Indeed. Good work, Agent M.” He turned in a circle looking for a place to sit.
“There’s only one chair,” Marianne said apologetically.
“One moment. I’ll go back and get another one.”
Taking the candle, Beau quickly made his way back through the small corridor into the bigger space, where he found an equally rickety chair that he carried back through the corridor with him.
By the time he returned, Marianne had already taken her seat and was staring out across the ballroom below. “I love this melody,” she breathed, tapping her foot along with the quadrille.
Setting the candle on the ledge in front of them, Beau pulled up his chair directly next to hers and they watched as the party unfolded beneath them. Groups of four couples had taken to the dance floor, and were engaged in the boisterous dance.
Beau scanned the ballroom’s occupants for a few minutes. “There is Lord Cunningham,” he finally said.
Marianne leaned forward. “Where?”
“At the far end of the room on the right. He’s wearing a dark-green coat. He’s speaking with a woman in a pink gown.”
Marianne studied the scene for a few minutes before nodding. “I see him.”
“Good. Keep an eye on him.” Beau paused for a few more moments, continuing his search of the crowd, before saying, “Lord Hightower is on the opposite side of the room near the refreshment table. He’s wearing dark blue and speaking to two ladies who are both wearing yellow.”
“Must be the color of the autumn Season,” Marianne replied with a slight laugh. “I see Lord Copperpot,” she added a few moments later.
“Where?” Beau asked.
Marianne leaned forward again and pointed, and the scent of her flowery soap made Beau clench his jaw.
“There, by the doorway,” she said. “It looks as if he’s still greeting guests.”
Beau shook his head. He forced himself to find Lord Copperpot’s form in the crowd. “Good. We can keep an eye on all three of them.” He moved his chair a bit away from hers to restore his mental equilibrium.
They sat there, watching the crowd in the ballroom silently until Beau noticed that Marianne was swaying in time to the music. A waltz had just begun.
“Do you like to dance?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“I’ve never danced before,” she replied, blinking.
“What? Are you quite serious?”
Marianne shrugged. “I’ve never had an occasion to dance. This might surprise you, but I’ve never been invited to a ball before, either.”
Beau frowned. “You’ve never been invited to any sort of party where there was dancing?”
She tapped her cheek thoughtfully for a few moments. “I’ve been to country dances, if that’s what you mean, but…I’ve never danced a waltz like this.”
“Would you like to?” The words escaped his lips before he had a chance to examine them.
“Would I…?” She pressed her lips together and blinked at him again.
“I’m quite serious,” he replied. “I know how to waltz, and I’d be happy to teach you.”
He could see the muscles move in her throat as she swallowed hard. “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping an eye on Lords Cunningham and Hightower?”
Beau stood and pushed back his chair. “Yes. But I daresay they’ve been completely uninteresting so far this evening. I doubt we’ll miss anything.”
Marianne laughed. “You are serious, aren’t you?”
“Entirely,” he replied. He stood in front of her and held out his arms. “Miss Notley, if you will?”
