After all, the murderer would likely be there, which meant he’d be keeping a keen eye on every guest.If Miss Samantha Carmichael showed up as well, then that would just make for a far more interesting evening.
With no time to spare, he instructed Murry to start packing.They’d have to leave at once if they were to make it back in time for the ball.
19
Samantha entered the Moorland ballroom with Harlowe and instantly knew without having to look that Mr.Croft wasn’t present.Despite his absence from London these past few days, she’d been certain he would be.The note she’d received from Melody claimed that their hostess had told Lady Heathbrooke of his attendance.
Apparently neither the duke nor the duchess wanted Mr.Croft there.He, Lady Heathbrooke had explained when Melody pressed her, had the unfortunate ability of making most people uncomfortable.It was this very same aspect that had compelled the duke and duchess to invite him.
Confident he would decline, however, due to being in mourning, they’d not expected him to accept.
Samantha smiled politely when Harlowe introduced her to Viscount and Viscountess Stanton, Viscount and Viscountess Ottersburg, the Earl and Countess of Glendale, Baron and Baroness Midhurst, Mr.and Mrs.Hillford, and countless others.
A Mr.Julian Walker invited her to dance, after which several other gentlemen signed their names to her dance card.But the one man she’d hoped to encounter remained absent as the evening progressed.
“Don’t despair,” Harlowe told her when he came to give her a glass of champagne after a reel.“Even if he doesn’t show, there are other ways for us to use the evening to our advantage.”
“I’m already keeping a watchful eye on the men Miss Croft danced with during the Marsdale ball.”Except Marsdale himself, who remained as absent as Mr.Croft.
“And?”Harlowe asked, casually taking a sip of champagne.
“None seem capable of enacting such evil.”Mr.Walker and Mr.Newton had both been charming partners.As had the Duke of Moorland.She’d spoken with all three men at various intervals, both previously and this evening, and had found their company engaging.
Nigel Lawrence, on the other hand, gave her an uneasy feeling.She didn’t like the way he looked at her, like she were a tasty dessert he’d like to devour.But then, he’d not shown the same sort of interest in Miss Croft.A point worth keeping in mind since she could not afford to suspect the wrong person based on her own bias.
A bit of agitation near the front of the ballroom prompted Samantha to glance in that direction.
“Looks like he made it,” Harlowe said at the same time as Samantha spotted Mr.Croft.
She averted her gaze before their eyes met.The last thing she wanted was to let him think she’d been waiting for him.
Her interest in him had to be balanced somewhere between curiosity and indifference.
Perhaps she should make herself scarce for a bit, allow him to chat with other guests so it wouldn’t look like she was standing about in anticipation of his notice.
“I think I’ll take some fresh air on the terrace,” she informed Harlowe.
“And I shall head to the gaming room for a round of cards.”He clinked his glass against hers, and the two parted ways with Samantha moving smoothly toward the French doors to her left.
Ever conscious of Mr.Croft making his way through the crowded ballroom, she forced herself to look straight ahead, to ignore the temptation of glancing in his direction.
The cool night air was breezy, sweeping through the honeysuckle vines that clung to the stone façade.Leaves rustled, the soft sound mingling with the muted strains of music filling the ballroom.
A few other guests stood scattered about in small groups.Samantha walked past them, choosing the solitude of the far corner.She stepped toward the balustrade, set her glass upon the edge, and took a deep breath.
Dressed in a gown sewn from soft pink silk overlaid with a creamy lace dotted by small crystal beads, she felt so very different from who she truly was.More like a princess than an agent trained to uncover secrets.She smiled at that thought.Nobody here would suspect her of being able to fight a man on equal footing, or to shoot him dead from a distance of one hundred yards.
She picked up her glass and drank, enjoying the sweet, bubbly flavor as it flowed over her tongue.Measured steps gently touching the flagstone caught her attention.She stilled as they drew nearer.
There was no need to turn and look to know who approached.She could sense him in the tightening of her stomach, the soft prick of awareness against the nape of her neck, and the heat creeping into her cheeks as excitement stole through her.
He’d sought her out and had thereby proved his interest.
All was proceeding as planned.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else,” his deep voice suggested.
She grinned, not with pretense but with unexpected amusement.Her laughter froze as that realization cemented itself within her.She shook her head, attempting to banish the curious sensation of possibly finding him charming, only to tamp down the brief emotion and reach for added control.Her job would be so much harder to do if she started to like him.
