Caroline chuckled. “That’s the spirit. It will be an entertaining night. I shall watch for you to nod, indicating you’ve uncovered one.”
“As long as you do the same.” Beatrice shared a smile with Caroline before turning to Margaret. “I wish you were going as well.”
“Alas, I am needed at home. Mother is having dinner with our aunt, the Marchioness of Whirlenhall, so I am spending the evening with Father.”
“I’d be happy to trade places with you,” Caroline offered.
“You’ve done more than your share with him this week as has Annabelle. I’m happy to spend time with him.”
“You’re certain?” Caroline’s eyes narrowed.
“Absolutely.” Margaret turned to Beatrice again, looking her over from head to toe. “I only wish I’d be there to witness the reaction of those you meet. I have no doubt you’ll shine.”
“Thanks to you and your beautiful creation, at the very least, I will look my best.” Beatrice smoothed her hands down the front of the gown, wondering what Daniel would think when he saw her.
BEATRICE SETTLED INTO a chair at the Alverstons’ beautiful table, complete with glittering crystal, polished silver, and delicate china, but could only wonder where Daniel was.
“Miss Linfield, how long did you say you’ve been in London?” Viscount Chivington asked.
The young lord was nice enough and rather handsome unless one compared him to Daniel. Which, of course, Beatrice did.
“Just over a fortnight. It’s been an...interesting experience.” That was an understatement if she’d ever heard one. “So different than the village where I was raised.”
“A vicar’s daughter, you said? That must’ve been interesting as well.”
“It was.” She smiled politely and nodded, more than ready to change the subject. If there was one thing she’d learned as a vicar’s daughter, it was how to carry on a conversation. One need only discover the interests of the other party and ask open-ended questions. “And what of you? Have you traveled or do you stay close to London?” From the pampered look of the man, she didn’t think he’d served in the war.
“I’ve traveled extensively.” He paused to sip the wine a footman poured. “Greece was one of my favorite countries.”
She couldn’t imagine venturing there. London was the farthest she’d traveled. “What made it so appealing?”
“The sea there is stunning, the beach equally so. The food is much different than English fare.”
Beatrice nodded as the viscount continued then glanced toward where Caroline and Aberland sat, wishing she were closer. Annabelle and her husband were at the opposite end, leaving her alone in the middle. If only Daniel had come. She had no doubt the sight of him across the table would settle her nerves. Where could he be? She might not know him well, but she knew it wasn’t normal for him to break his word.
“What of the sights?” she asked. “Was there a particular one that caught your interest?”
The conversation continued easily as the viscount spoke, seemingly happy to have a captive audience with whom to discuss his adventures.
The first course was a delicious chestnut soup. Before the second course was served, she managed to strike up a conversation with the gentleman to her right, though he had little to say. He was more intent on enjoying the meal than visiting with her, especially once the second course of roasted beef, savoury pie, and carrots cooked in a rich butter sauce arrived.
By the time a delicious berry trifle was served, she’d had enough of hearing about the viscount’s travels. Soon the ladies rose to retire to the drawing room and leave the men to their port.
“I wonder where Daniel is this evening,” Caroline said when she joined Beatrice.
“I was wondering the same. He said he was coming.”
“Our hostess thought so as well. She seemed most unhappy to have an odd number of guests.”
“Should we worry at his absence?” Beatrice asked.
“We’ll see what Aberland thinks when the men join us. Perhaps he merely lost track of time at the club.” Yet the concern in her eyes suggested she didn’t believe that.
Her disquiet only served to make Beatrice worry all the more. He’d mentioned he intended to visit Mr. Hurdy again this morning. Could that have something to do with his absence? Had he discovered new information that caused him not to come?
Her stomach tightened at the thought. She knew he was upset with the Bow Street Runner for not making any arrests. Surely Daniel hadn’t decided to do anything drastic.
Yet all sorts of dire images filled her mind as the idea took hold. The thought of him confronting Finch in some manner was terrifying. Though she had faith in Daniel’s ability to protect himself, Finch had a cold-bloodedness to him that stated exactly what he was willing to do—protect himself and what he considered his, regardless of the consequences.
Would Daniel have gone there alone? Was he merely watching the brothel again, or had he entered? Neither option reassured her in the least.
“Smile,” Annabelle said as she joined them. “From your expressions, it looks as if someone died.”
Beatrice stared at Annabelle, dismay flooding her, praying Annabelle hadn’t unwittingly spoken the truth.
Chapter Nine
Daniel deliberately staggered as he joined the two other men walking up the brothel steps, doing his best to pretend he was the worse for drink. “Been here before?”
“Once or twice,” the closest man said, his words slurring slightly. “Do I know you?” He glanced about as if wondering where Daniel had come from or whether he’d accompanied them to the brothel and he’d somehow missed it.
“Name’s Bailey,” Daniel said with what he hoped was a lopsided smile along with a nod. “Pleased to meet you.” He’d rather no one knew his true name.
His new companion, who looked several years younger than Daniel, simply returned the nod, not offering his name.
The second man, sturdily built, ignored Daniel completely, his focus on the door ahead.
Joining others entering the establishment seemed the easiest way to gain entrance, especially when they appeared to know where they were going and what was expected of
