Page 3

Elodia winked at her. “‘Like calls to like’ as they say. So, you should be at the modiste a good deal more often seeing as I shall be inviting you to tea, dinner, the theatre, and whatever else I can manage.”

“How did you get your father to agree to this?”

“I didn’t. I think despite his complaints, he’s grown used to both of you, and seeing me with friends.

Without you I am… quite on my own.” She smiled but there was little humor in it.

“It’s selfish perhaps. Ada is married now, and you will be soon as well.

We won’t be as inseparable as we once were. ”

“Oh, Ellie.”

“It’s alright. It’s only that what little time we have, I won’t want to be without you both.”

“I understand. But I can assure you that no husband would be able to replace a friend such as yourself. And you will have the both of us to help you find the most gentle and loving of husbands, if it is what you wish.”

“I don’t know that it is possible for me to have the sort of man I would wish. But I should be glad of your company either way.” Elodia looked around the room and exhaled. “There is a lovely garden here. Why don’t I fetch us some lemonade and meet you out there?”

“That sounds perfect, Ellie.”

*

She’s here . Leo watched from his post at the fringes of the ballroom as Miss Mason observed the dancers.

She was a friend of Adelaide’s, he knew, but in his mind, she was primarily the captain’s daughter with the terrifying Marathi mother.

Both Captain Mason and his wife were present, no doubt keeping a very close watch on their bold daughter.

Leo never forgot a face, especially when it belonged to a nosey woman who had glimpsed more of him than he was comfortable with while he was enjoying a sea bath on his last day at Brighton.

He’d just wrapped up a case of missing jewelry and had elected to spend one more day at the seaside before returning to London.

While he was pulling on his clothes, he’d spotted the top of a purple bonnet through the grass.

Then, when it was clear he’d spotted the pervert, he saw a brown faced girl with wide dark eyes scamper away as the sunlight glinted relentlessly on some metal momentarily blinding him.

He hadn’t expected to then see her again at Kings Cross Station when he’d arrived to greet Basil, who was now married to Ada.

The glare had been a metal applique of flowers along the inner brim of her bonnet.

A small detail, possibly missed with the way she’d styled the rest of her travel costume, but the design had glinted in the same way as she emerged from the train.

In that moment, he knew it was her. Considering what he now knew of Ada’s friends; however, he couldn’t exactly be shocked that she had befriended a girl who stole peeks at innocent men while they were sea bathing.

Perhaps it had been because he recognized her instantly last year at Kings Cross via her bonnet.

Seeing the glimpse of her face by the ocean hadn’t prepared him for the full effect of her when she was standing in front of him with her small hand in his.

Nothing had prepared him for the frankness of her stare.

Leo had never been coddled. From the army to Scotland Yard and now as a private investigator, he’d made his way through the world with blood, sweat, tears and intellect.

He faced his problems, found a way to manage them, and moved forward.

It was inexplicable the effect that a bold stare from a young woman had had on him.

The only word that came to mind to describe her was lush.

From her plump mouth, bounteous midnight curls and heart shaped face to the full curves of her body.

She brought to mind the carvings of women he’d seen on the Hindu temples in Khajuraho, while he’d been stationed in India.

But those carvings didn’t watch him with open curiosity and interest or have the whistle of a dock worker.

Miss Regina Mason was no doubt a virtuous young woman but there was nothing demure about her. She may have been able to fool the people in the room as she stood between her parents in an elegant and fashionable yellow silk gown, but he’d already seen more of what she was capable of.

“She’s a pretty one,” a voice came from his left. He glanced in that direction and saw an old woman hovering just inside the doorway. Her silvery hair was piled on top of her head, her face creased with countless lines. Her ice blue eyes were fixed on him with rueful amusement.

“Beg your pardon?” he asked, unsure whether or not he was annoyed yet.

“The girl in yellow. She is the one you are watching is she not?”

She was old but her eyes were sharp. Part of him was annoyed at being caught by this crone gawping at the young woman.

He wasn’t there to watch Miss Mason, after all.

He was there to track down Roger Henry, a thief known for infiltrating houses while pretending to be a servant before making off with jewels. “Thank you for weighing in.”

“Are you a guest?”

Now he was annoyed. “Are you the host?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I am not.”

“Then I don’t believe it’s any of your concern.”

He expected her to huff and call a servant. Instead, she smiled as if amused. “What is your name?”

“What is yours?”

“Mrs. Theodosia Burghley-Harrison,” she said.

The reason he was here at this overcrowded event shifted past a guest and caught Leo’s eye. There you are. “Good.”

“I don’t have yours.”

“I haven’t said it.” He looked her over once more before strolling away.

“Good evening Mrs. Burghley-Harrison,” he called over his shoulder.

Personally, Leo didn’t care if some rich assholes lost a few insured jewels they could easily replace, but Mr. Henry had a nasty habit of assaulting house maids as well and that was something he couldn’t stand for.

So, when he was hired by Sir Archibald Cox to track him down and get him behind bars, Leo took the job. The pay didn’t hurt either.

So far, he’d followed his trail across London, and everything pointed to him striking tonight at Lady Trawley’s ball. So, Leo got his hands on a footman’s uniform and laid low banking on the assumption that Lady Trawley wouldn’t notice another black footman.

He was correct. The woman had looked him dead in his face and called him by some other poor sod’s name.

It wasn’t the first time Leo had masqueraded as a footman, but it was always nice to be reminded that he’d made the right choice opting for the military.

His temperament was not made for servitude.

Like a spectre, Henry glided about with one tray of drinks in his hand.

No doubt collecting billfolds and necklaces as he went before moving further inside.

Henry was cunning and cool headed, but he was greedy.

Trying to catch him in the house during an event would only draw attention and spook him.

Far better to catch him on his way out. Henry liked to leave before the event was over, before the servants were all needed to clean up the mess of over a hundred aristocrats.

He would try to slink out through the back garden if his previous jobs were any indication.

Leo started moving across the stone terrace until he reached what seemed like a refreshments room for exhausted guests. The french doors opened out to the stairs. Quietly Leo slipped down the stone staircase and hid near a row of manicured trees. When Henry came, he would be ready.

A few moments later he heard footsteps coming.

He planted his feet and waited, shoulders relaxed and hands ready.

Then the footsteps stopped. He heard a woman’s voice.

It was familiar although he couldn’t place its owner.

Then he heard Henry. That voice, at least, he’d heard enough to recognize it, and he knew what it could mean for the woman with him.

He couldn’t stand there and wait for Henry to come to him.

It would cost him the tactical advantage but if he hurt that young woman, he wouldn’t be able to face himself.

As Henry rounded the corner, he heard a grunt and saw two feet go flying up into the air before a loud dull thud sounded in the night air.

The sight that greeted him was a surprise but not overly shocking.

Kneeling on Henry’s shoulder, pinning one arm on his back was Miss Mason.

One of her curls had slipped from her pins and now floated on the night breeze as she pursed her lips and leaned more of her weight onto the thief.

“Miss Mason,” Leo called, and she looked up at the sound of his voice, her face brightening with a cheerful smile. Far too cheerful for what she had just done.

“It is Mr. Kingston, isn’t it?” she asked.

“It is.”

Her eyes swept up and down his body. “Nice uniform. I assume you haven’t elected to switch professions, so you must be here on business?”

“Mmm,” he nodded at Henry. “You are currently kneeling on it.”

“Oh!” she looked down at the man she had pinned to the grass. “I was going to wait until Ellie arrived and have her call for my father.”

“Very clever.”

“But as you are here, I suppose I’ll leave him to you.”

“Much obliged.” He gestured to her to move. Henry, seeing a chance to escape, tried to stand up. Leo delivered a swift kick to his ribs that sent him tumbling back down. Then he delivered a sharp blow to the back of his head that made him go limp.

“Whenever I try to do that, it never works,” Miss Mason said, watching with fascination.

Did she have more than one occasion to knock men out? “I suppose it comes down to practice. You must get the precise spot with the correct amount of force.”

“I suppose you’re correct.”

“You manage well enough without it, however. I didn’t expect to see him on the ground when I heard you call out.”

“Yes well, he was being impertinent.”

“Who taught you to flip men over like that?”

“My father. He believes that a lady should always have a weapon.”

“Even when it’s her.”

“Oh, especially then. I’ve been out of practice though. Took me two tries to get him over.”

“Too busy kidnapping eligible gentlemen?”

“Mr. Thompson was an aberration due to an extreme circumstance. You are quite safe, I promise you.”

“I am relieved to hear it.” He replied, wondering when exactly he’d become an eligible gentleman in her eyes.

“For my sake or your own?”

Leo chuckled softly shaking his head. She was truly a delight, even if he had to admit she was capable of far more than he’d imagined previously. “You would have had a difficult time of it, Miss Mason.”

Slowly she lifted one eyebrow and tilted her head. “Underestimating your opponent? Not at all up to your usual standard, Mr. Kingston.”

She was an adorable mix of earnest and audacious. It was far too intriguing.

“Gigi, your—oh, Mr. Kingston. Good evening,” Miss Hawthorne paused halfway down the stairs watching them both before glancing down at the unconscious man on the ground. “Who is that?”

“Business,” Miss Mason replied, and Leo chuckled.

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He bent down and rolled Henry onto his back before hoisting him upright and tossing his limp body onto his shoulder. Then he rose to his feet and turned to face the two young ladies watching him.

“Good evening, Miss Mason, Miss Hawthorne,”

“Good evening, Mr. Kingston,” Miss Mason said.

*

“Gigi, your mother has been looking for you.”

“Oh lord, has it been too long?”

“No, she and your father are leaving, but they can’t find you.”

Regina gathered her skirts and rushed up the stairs, back into the refreshment room. Elodia followed suit. “Are they still in the ballroom, Ellie?”

“No, they are in the foyer.”

It was impossible not to notice the looks sent her way as she hurried past rows of gossiping socialites.

Bad luck.

At least they’ll be gone.

Nothing is truly certain yet.

The snippets of conversation floated past her ears. One pointed look nearly stopped her in her tracks, but Ellie’s tug on her arm kept her moving. Was it something she’d done? Had they found out she had been speaking to Mr. Kingston? Were they gossiping about her because she was alone with him?

The shock of seeing him so unexpectedly had wiped every thought of what she should have been doing clear out of her head.

Her memory of how handsome he was had not served her at all.

His rich brown skin, a few shades lighter than hers, his heart shaped face and high cheekbones.

Those full lips that smiled slowly, as if his amusement grew in each passing moment.

He was so tall and broad with that rich deep voice.

And his eyes, those hazel brown eyes had sparkled with admiration and amusement and all she could think was how much nicer he was than she’d expected.

He could have dismissed her out of hand or scolded her for handling that ruffian in her own way, but instead he’d taken it in his stride and thanked her.

But now a moment of mental distraction had resulted in a scandal that she couldn’t explain to her family.

No matter what she felt, or didn’t feel personally for Lord Reginald, she never wanted to give the English ton another reason to slight her mother or embarrass her father.

It was another lesson; the ton would always be looking for a way to remind their family of where they ought to be.

Only by doing her part could Regina ensure that her mother never had to bow her head as a matter of course in this country.

She just had to remember what was at risk instead of what it felt like to be noticed by a man like Leo Kingston. She could do it. She would do it.

She caught sight of her parents and moved through the crowd narrowly dodging elbows and careless hands.

It was the blessing and curse of her height.

While she certainly wasn’t diminutive, she was short enough to move through a crowd by making use of the smallest spaces.

Which also meant people didn’t see her until it was too late.

Her mother was standing perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the floor and her father was beside her, his arms crossed over his torso.

Only her knowledge of them had her eyes drifting to where she knew his hidden hand held onto her mother’s arm.

A private show of solidarity and love for a woman who could never relax enough to smile in society.

When she reached them, her father shifted his weight taking a deep breath and nodding in her direction but the tense expression on his face didn’t shift. Her mother exhaled and pursed her lips.

“Aai, whatever you have heard—”

“It is time to leave,” she interrupted. “Your baba has called for the carriage.”

“I thought we were waiting for Lord Starkley,” Regina replied. Then her mother uttered a sentence in Marathi. Three words that were growing harder and harder to hear.

He is dead.