grinned back at her.
'Do you like it, Captain?' Inglethorpe asked. He passed the second bag to Lady Breckenridge and picked up the third.
'Certainly,' I answered.
I paced back and forth. I glanced at my walking stick, which I had left leaning against the settee. My bad leg moved where I wanted it to go without protest. I turned in a circle, resting my weight on my left leg. Nary a twinge. I laughed.
Inglethorpe handed the third bag to me. I took it and inhaled gladly, taking a long breath.
I wondered what the concoction was. Grenville had called it a 'magic' gas. I felt awake and alert and rested. Brandy and gin left one heavy and sleepy, opium gave a false euphoria and a weightiness in the limbs, but this made me feel fine and fit. I wanted to leap about the room, and to my alarm, I found myself nearly starting to do so.
'Dance for us, Captain,' Lady Breckenridge said. 'Do, please.'
Several of the gentlemen laughed. The others leaned back, idiotic grins on their faces. Inglethorpe, the only one who had not partaken, watched us all with an indulgent expression.
I crossed the carpet and held out my hand. 'Do you waltz, Mrs. Danbury?'
She gazed at me in astonishment and through the strange clarity I felt a twinge of embarrassment. Then she smiled, put her hand in mine, and rose to meet me.
I waltzed Mrs. Danbury up and down the long room and around Lady Breckenridge's settee to the windows. Lady Breckenridge turned to watch us as we went by.
I had learned to waltz in Spain, when the fashion first took. I had waltzed with Louisa, under her husband's glowering eye, and with the wives of other officers. My injury had, of course, put an end to this entertainment.
Never had I danced with a woman who simply wanted to dance with me. No pity for the lonely officer who had no wife to escort. No duty in attending the wives of superior officers. Just dancing for the pure joy of it.
Mrs. Danbury matched her steps to mine and rested her hand on my shoulder. I grasped her about the waist, my fingers fitting to the slim curve of her body.
I had not felt so well in a long, long while. I realized I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to lean down and touch her red lips, to feel them open beneath mine.
She must have sensed my wish, for she whispered, 'They are all watching.'
I gave her a reassuring look and lowered my eyelid in a wink. I certainly would not cause a scandal. She could trust me to be a gentleman.
Mrs. Danbury’s smile broadened. We danced some more, moving back and forth across the room. I felt light on my feet and light in heart.
I lost track of time. I'd come here planning to question Inglethorpe about Peaches, about who she talked to, what she and Lord Barbury did here, and whether she had come here Monday, either alone or with someone other than Lord Barbury. Inglethorpe had begun this entertainment at four o'clock; soon after four on Monday, Peaches had met her end.
Instead, I danced. Mrs. Danbury and I went around and around the room. She gazed up at me, seemingly happy to be dancing with me. It had been so long since a lady had looked at me in such delight that I could not bear to break the spell.
The windows darkened. Several of the gentlemen departed. Inglethorpe disappeared. Mrs. Danbury danced into me, a luxurious crush of female body.
I at last let her sit down, out of breath, and I seated myself on a stool before her and looked at her in a way I had no business to. Mrs. Danbury did not seem to mind. Her color was high, and her eyes sparkled.
This was not like being drunk. I felt refreshed and aware and at last free of pain. Whatever Inglethorpe’s concoction was, I liked it.
A heavy wave of French perfume swept over my shoulder and Lady Breckenridge said into my ear, 'If you want to know about Lord Barbury, Captain, you have only to ask me.'
I glanced quickly up at her but as usual, her dark blue eyes were enigmatic.
Lady Breckenridge left the room without further word, and a footman closed the door behind her.
She wanted me to rush after her. She wanted me to wonder what she meant and not rest until I found out.
Devil take the woman, that is exactly what I did. I rose, made some excuse to the bewildered Mrs. Danbury, and hurried from the room.
Inglethorpe was on the landing.
'Come again, Captain,' his congenial voice floated after me as I moved past him down the stairs, barely acknowledging him. 'Perhaps next time you will persuade Mr. Grenville to accompany you.'
I did not answer. I reached the ground floor hall, snatched my coat and hat from the footman, and plunged outside.
The street had darkened and rain made it darker still. I did not see Lady Breckenridge at first and balled my hands in frustration, wondering if she’d simply gone without me. Then another carriage moved out of the way, and I spied her across the street, being helped into a closed landau.
She'd donned a jacket and hat, and she smiled down at me as I made my way to her. 'Shall you ride with me, Captain?'
I looked at the landau, rain streaking its black leather top. An unrelated lady and gentleman riding in a closed carriage could be scandalous, although widowed women of the upper classes had a little immunity. The rain decided it for me, as well as the fact that I'd made a fool of myself in Inglethorpe's sitting room and come away with no information.
I accepted.
Chapter Six
The footman assisted me into the landau, and I found myself in a conveyance as opulent as Grenville's. The walls were fine parquetry, the upholstery, velvet. Boxes of coals warmed our feet, and coach lanterns lightened the gloom of the darkening evening.
As soon as I half fell into the seat facing Lady Breckenridge, the landau started with a jerk.
I found myself studying the pattern of Lady Breckenridge’s light yellow-and-ivory striped gown behind the undone buttons of her dark blue jacket. The gown revealed a modest amount of breast, the cashmere heavy enough against the chill of January but fine enough to flow like silk over her legs.
'Did you enjoy Mr. Inglethorpe's little entertainment?' she asked.
I was still a bit breathless from it. 'What was it? The concoction, I mean?'
Lady Breckenridge lifted her shoulders in a smooth shrug. 'Who knows? I am not a scientist. But you did not come for the magic air. You came to learn about Lord Barbury.'
'I do not recall telling anyone so.'
She gave me her usual stare. She was an intelligent woman, and no doubt had seen Grenville pull Lord Barbury aside at the soiree.
'You did not have to. I know that Mrs. Chapman was killed, and that poor Barbury is beside himself. Servants gossip, Captain. They love to talk about us. My maid is always ready with the latest tidbit about my neighbors.'
I should not have been surprised. Bartholomew was part of a vast network of Mayfair servants who gathered information better than any exploring officer did for Wellesley. Bartholomew had connections below stairs in every house from Oxford Street to Piccadilly.
'Barbury doted on the woman,' Lady Breckenridge said. 'More than he should have, in my opinion. She was charming to him, but she was only an actress and not a very good one.'
'Did you know her?'
She gave me a disdainful look. 'Hardly. She married above her station and had Lord Barbury quite on a string. At least Barbury had the sense not to take her to wife.'
