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“If he was just going to choose Beatrice, why did he bother to put the advertisement in the paper?” One of her fellow wallflowers complained to a group of debutants. They were all scowling at her.

“I had to let my lady love know that I was serious in my pursuit,” Thorne replied, scattering the ladies.

Beatrice didn’t roll her eyes, but she wondered how gullible these girls had to be to believe his smooth reply. Of course, she knew it was hogwash, and it was all she could do not to swoon at his feet.

“Shall we dance?” He bowed over her hand.

Her pulse jumped at his touch. Even through their gloves, she could feel his sensual heat, and it fed her desire.

“Be careful, love, or people will believe this is a love match,” he whispered.

Beatrice lifted her chin. “Let them think what they wish.”

“And if I have such fanciful thoughts?”

“We have a job to do.”

He put her hand in the crook of his arm and led her around the dance floor. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That could be dangerous.”

He smiled at her. “What if the advertisement was designed to put me off my game?”

“You think someone has learned your role with the war office?” she asked, barely moving her lips.

“How do you do that?” he grinned at her.

“What?”

“Talk without moving your lips?”

“Oh, my brothers taught me. Father is great at reading lips and if you want to have a serious talk about anything with people watching, it is best to employ some method of subterfuge.”

“You’re a natural.”

“You were saying you think the advertisement might have been more than just a prank or petty revenge?”

He nodded. “Someone may be trying to keep me from doing my job.”

“And since we thwarted them, they may up the stakes?”

He paled. “I may have put you in danger.”

She steered him towards the open doors and the veranda. There were already couples taking advantage of the warm night air. She led him down an unlit path, stopping in a shaft of moonlight. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this,” she whispered.

“No, how could you? I’m not even sure what we’re getting into.”

“Someone is trying to keep you from talking to your informant. Why?”

He shook his head.

“Because we need to know what he knows,” she whispered.

“If they’ve discovered his identity, he could be in danger.”

“Do you know where to find him?”

“I think so, but our absence will be noticed if we leave.”

“I cannot leave. There will be too much speculation.”

“If I leave you tonight right after announcing our betrothal, people will think there is something wrong.”

She grinned and nodded. “That’s it. We need to have a lover’s tiff. I can play the jealous shrew.”

“What do you have to be jealous of?”

“Is your former mistress here?”

“Birdie, I told you…”

She waved away his comments. “I believe you, but no one else will.” She smiled. “If I can accuse you of making eyes at her…”

He grinned. “And what do I do, run off to my club to drown my wounded heart?”

She winked at him. “Come, let’s go play it out.”

They strolled back into the ballroom. “There she is,” he whispered. “What should I do?”

“Make eye contact with her over my shoulder.”

He let his gaze stray to where his former mistress was speaking with a gentleman. The golden-haired beauty lifted her eyes to meet his. She cocked her head to the side in question.

Birdie made a growling sound.

He returned his attention to his betrothed, his face warming. “What is it, my dear?”

“Do not ‘my dear’ me when you dared ogle that woman right under my nose,” she hissed. Birdie had learned long ago that a whisper garnered more attention than a shout.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Surely, you do not believe that I am so na?ve that I would not know who she is?”

They were gathering an audience.

“I am certain that you are mistaken,” he insisted.

Birdie lowered her voice. “Mistaken that she is your mistress? I think not. I will not be second in your life, Mr. Blackwood. Either that woman goes, or I do.”

“But she is already…”

Birdie didn’t wait for him to finish speaking. She turned on her heel and strode towards the lady’s retiring room.

Thorne stared after her, embarrassed and a bit hurt until he remembered this was a part they were playing. Clenching his jaw, he turned on his heel and called for his hat and carriage.

John Hartley confronted him at the door. “What did you do to my sister?”

Careful to keep his voice low, he replied, “Nothing that she herself didn’t plan.”

John blinked, and after a lengthy glare, got into character. “Where do you think you’re running off to?”

“My club where I’m not accused of things I’ve not done. You can tell your sister…”

“You can tell her yourself,” John interrupted.

“Ha, as if she’d listen to me.”

“Perhaps you should try harder.”

“If this is going to be the way of things, perhaps we should rethink this whole marriage plan.”

“You would give up so easily? If you are not willing to put forth the effort to make a woman happy then please, by all means, let us rethink this plan of yours to marry my sister, because she deserves more than a man who would run at the first sign of trouble.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Thorne demanded.

John lifted his chin. “I believe that is your conscience that is calling you names, my lord.”

“Your carriage has arrived, sir.”

Thorne glared at John, who returned the glare. Did the man truly believe him unworthy of his sister? Then he winked. It happened so quickly Thorne wasn’t sure he’d seen it, but he could have sworn the councilman winked before turning on his heel.