So she had not understood the French conversation. Relief coursed through him.
“Why were you in the library, Lord Brenton? And why did you drag me behind the curtain?”
He should not have expected her to let go of things easily. “I was seeking a brief respite from the ball, the same as you. And when I heard footsteps, I acted before we were discovered. Your reputation deserved no less.”
Kate studied him warily. She twisted the drawstrings on her reticule, unintentionally pulling it open and spilling the contents across the floor. She let out a small gasp. “Oh, dear!”
As he bent to retrieve the items, he found himself drawn to a small book lying open at her feet. It was a poetry volume, the margins crowded with hurried notations. Curiosity tugged at him, but before he could read anything in detail, Kate snatched it up, closing it with a snap and slipping it back into her reticule.
Kate seemed determined to surprise him. First, the calm she had shown tonight, and now this brief glimpse into her mind. Both stirred an ill-advised interest in her. He sighed. Keeping her from occupying his thoughts was already a losing battle.
“Shall we return to the ballroom and rejoin your mother?”
“We certainly cannot be seen returning together.” A telltale crimson stained her cheeks. “You know what everyone will assume.”
A corner of his mouth twitched upward. “And would those assumptions be so terrible?” He was the worst sort of gentleman to ask, but he desperately wanted to hear her answer.
“You know very well they would be.” Her voice cooled. “While you may be certain about a marriage between us, I do not wish to be forced into anything.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I must beg you to leave and allow me to return without your escort.”
“Kate, have I not already proven tonight that I am trying to protect your reputation? As much as I hope for a union between us at the end of our courtship, I would not wish you forced into anything.”
“Then you will cease keeping such a close watch over me?”
So she had noticed. That knowledge settled somewhere deeper than it ought. A smile spread across his face. “Why would I stop when I know you enjoy it so much?”
She leveled him with a withering stare that only made him want to goad her more. Teasing her was becoming his new favorite pastime.
“I am returning to the ballroom. Without you.” She turned on her heel but before she could leave, James caught her arm.
“Kate.” He gave her a pleading smile. “Since I played the hero tonight, have I earned the right for you to call me James?”
She tilted her head and gave him a soft smile full of pity. “While I am grateful for your quick thinking and assistance in preventing a scandal, I doubt one small rescue qualifies as a remarkable feat.”
She opened the door and glanced back at him over her shoulder, her lips curving in a challenge that made hispulse thrum. “When you have accomplished something truly noteworthy, Lord Brenton, do let me know.”
She disappeared into the corridor, leaving him staring after her. He grinned. He was half tempted to laugh, half tempted to chase her down and see what other sparks would ignite between them.
Truly noteworthy?
Challenge accepted, Kate.
He remained in the library, giving Kate the time she had requested, and forced his thoughts from her. He needed to consider the information he had overheard. He surveyed the surface of the desk and the surrounding floor, searching for any clues the men might have left behind. Nothing. He straightened, his jaw tight.
A shipment? There had been rumors of French sympathizers sending aid to Napoleon, but he had never been able to uncover any evidence. Until tonight. It appeared not only was there such a movement, but that it was connected to Henry’s death and the network he had been investigating. Now he had the first real thread toward solving his friend’s murder and unlocking the list Henry had sent.
Tonight’s discovery was one more thing he could not yet bring to Westmarch. And when he finally did, it would help if he had answers. Leaning a shoulder against the mantel, arms crossed, he studied the glowing fire, willing it to reveal the truth. If only he could decipher where the next meeting would be taking place. “Under the branches of the big oak”was maddeningly vague.
It must refer to a predetermined meeting spot, and there were a thousand oak trees in London and the surrounding areas. Did it mean a literal tree in Hyde Park? Or perhapsoakdid not refer to a tree at all, but to a landmark or a building? Londonmay as well be a dense forest, and he had less than two days to find the right tree.
A glance at the clock revealed he needed to return to the ballroom. He left the library with more questions than answers about Henry’s death, the missing shipment, and the woman who was slowly upending his carefully ordered plans.
He reentered the ballroom and slipped on the familiar mask he always wore in public. Confident, charming, and seemingly unconcerned with anything more serious than the usual worries of a titled bachelor. These were the tools of survival he knew best.
The din of the crowd and the bright lights replaced the quiet intensity from the library, and he found himself wishing he were behind the curtain again with Kate. He immediately sought her out. She was speaking with her mother and Lord Barrington, an elderly gentleman who by all accounts was happily married. He was likely speaking with them about one of the charities he supported.
James allowed himself to relax. The supper dance had not commenced yet, but Kate could hardly encounter more trouble between now and then. He still did not know how she had managed to wander into the library at precisely the wrong moment. He scanned the room for anything or anyone likely to complicate the evening further.
He spotted Thomas near the doorway, watchful and apart from the crowd. With a familiar flicker of guilt, James threaded his way through the crowd toward his friends Alex and William, who were in deep conversation along the far wall. Nicholas was no doubt somewhere in the room charming a lady. Their group was only missing Hugh tonight.
