are at least a dozen gentlemen who would be glad of your company.” Dancers pirouetted across the boards accompanied by harpsichord, violins, celli, and flute. Two chandeliers suspended from the high ceiling cast the assembly in a heated glow, the chamber stuffy, overly dark, and full to the brim with high society.
“I wouldn’t,” she said, “but I am afraid you will leave if I step away for a moment.” She glanced at his shabby evening finery.
“I have no plans to depart just yet.” Before Leam had left his house to pick up Constance, a boy had come bearing a note from Grimm. Kitty was to attend this ball tonight. Leam knew not whether to flee or remain and test his fortitude. He had vowed to himself that he would not demand anything of her until he was perfectly assured of her safety. He owed her that.
So he remained. He ached to simply see her.
“And I am not such a rogue as all that to abandon you to your eager admirers without suitable protection,” he muttered to his cousin. “Where is your companion, Mrs. Jacobs?”
“In some corner having a cozy gossip.” Constance smiled.
“I thought my uncle would attend tonight.”
“Papa changed his plans. But perhaps—Oh, there is Wyn. What a pleasant surprise.”
But Leam could not follow her attention. A woman had appeared at the ballroom’s entrance. A clever- tongued woman. A woman of as much pride and warmth as beauty. Through the shifting dancers he glimpsed her rich tresses arranged loosely atop her head with sparkling combs, the gentle curve of her cheek, her silken shoulders and arms left nearly bare by a shimmering gown of ivory. A man parched with thirst, he drank in the sight of her. She smiled at her companion, an elegant gentleman, and a streak of mingled pleasure and possessive heat worked its way from Leam’s chest into his tight throat.
But it lacked the edge of mania he’d felt long ago. Instead, confidence curled around the jealousy.
She wanted him, and she did not wish to play games.
Yale strolled to Constance’s side.
“Evening, cousins.” He bowed, hands folded behind his back. “Haven’t seen you in an age, Blackwood. Where have you been this week?”
“None of your business.”
“Tracking down Scottish rebels, like you said you wouldn’t? Pursuing information on Chamberlayne, I suspect. The director certainly seems to have you in the harness again, doesn’t he?”
“I cannot hit you here, Yale, but I’ll be happy to do so outside. Join me?”
“Charmed, I’m sure. You look like one of your dogs again, whiskers and all.”
Leam turned to his cousin. “Now that you have suitable company, Constance, I will depart. Yale, put yourself to good use and see the lady home when she desires it, why don’t you.”
Constance rested her fingertips on his arm.
“Leam, we must speak with you now. Privately.”
He glanced at the Welshman. The lad lifted a single black brow.
Leam frowned. “‘What a pleasant surprise’? Constance,” he said quietly, “your acting abilities impress even me occasionally.”
She dimpled. “Thank you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You don’t want to refuse.” The Welshman’s gaze shifted across the crowd. Leam followed it. To Kitty.
Anger rose swiftly. “Am I to assume the two of you are in league with Gray again?” he said with a great deal more control than the hot blood racing in his veins merited.
“Oh, not at all,” Constance demurred. “Quite the opposite. But don’t scowl. You are in costume.
Unfortunately.” Gently she tugged on his sleeve, offering a generous chuckle as though she were vastly diverted.
Leam looked back to Kitty. She lifted her gaze to him. Clear across the ballroom, the thunderclouds invited him in, a smile playing about her lips, and nothing seemed to exist between them but perfectly pure desire and that beauty of understanding in which he still could not quite trust.
Not entirely. But he would. Now he would go to her, take her from the ball, and make love to her.
Then there would be nothing between them but what they both wanted.
Her gaze flickered past his shoulder and her smile faded. She turned away and, slipping through the crowd, disappeared into another room.
“Come, my lord,” Yale said at his shoulder. “It is time we apprise you of certain matters.”
He went.
Kitty approached Lord Chamberlayne, moving through the crowd from friend to acquaintance as she did at all such events, holding her head high and with serene countenance, ignoring the stares and gossip that floated in her wake, renewed since Lambert was exiled.
“My lord,” she said, touching him on the sleeve, like a daughter. “May I have a brief word with you?”
“Of course, Lady Katherine.” He bowed to his companions and moved aside with her. About them the music rose and fell, only to rise again. She felt Leam’s gaze still in her blood, warm and speaking so many things without a word. As always.
“Is your mother unwell?” Lord Chamberlayne asked. “I’m afraid I have lost her in this crush.”
“Oh, no, my lord. I sought you out on my own mission. You see…”
It was difficult to mouth the lies. His eyes shone clear gray, much lighter than her father’s. In his face was compassion too, she had never noticed in her father’s when he still lived. This man was kind at heart. If only there were another way. But nothing could convince her of the necessity of her pantomime if not Leam’s bedraggled appearance, his bearded jaw, and, most of all, the look in his eyes before she had caught his gaze. She must do this and discover the truth for her mother’s sake.
And for Leam’s.
Lord Chamberlayne tucked her hand into his elbow.
“Kitty, I hope you will trust me with any concern, large or small. You are like my own daughter, you know, if I’d had one.”
“You have only your son, of course.”
“Yes. And I see so little of him, as he prefers to remain at home in Scotland.”
“Yes.” She paused. “You see, I have come seeking advice—rather, assistance regarding a Scottish gentleman.”
“Have you an admirer you wish me to speak with? I know I am not your father, but I hope someday to be of such assistance to you.”
“Oh, well, yes, in a manner of speaking.” She plunged in. “But you see, my lord, he is not an admirer. I fear his attentions went a great deal farther than admiration and now I am in something of a quandary.”
His arm went stiff. “Has a gentleman insulted you?”
“Not—not without my consent,” she said hastily, the words slippery on her tongue. “You see, well, I am not entirely ashamed to admit that I expected more of him. But he has disappointed me.”
His face was stony.
“Do you wish me to call him out on your behalf, Kitty? If so, you may expect it of me. I consider your family my own.”
She nearly lost courage. How could a man of such fidelity to her mother be a traitor to his country?
“I believe,” she said slowly, “that will not be necessary. I believe, in fact, that he may be made uncomfortable in quite another manner entirely.”
His brow creased. “It would be simpler for my understanding if you named the man.”
So she did, naming him and pouring out the remainder of her false story, the ship and its stolen cargo and her trust that a friend like Lord Chamberlayne could help her reveal the Earl of Blackwood’s villainy to the proper authorities. She included the time and place the following morning at which Leam planned to meet an informant. Wouldn’t it be marvelous if government officials were there to apprehend them for their crime?
It astounded her how quickly Lord Chamberlayne’s eyes glimmered with interest, and how he asked her for details. Her heart ached. She reminded herself that her mother and Leam’s safety were both bound into this pretense.
Lord Chamberlayne patted her hand, his brow taut. “I will see to it that the gentleman is brought to task for
