waist. ‘What problem?’
She flushed. ‘You are horrible, you know that? And it is none of your business. I simply need to find him.’
If she wasn’t being so mysterious, he wouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. He frowned. Perhaps she feared some sort of blackmail? A letter written to a lover? Something given away that did not belong to her?
Keeping such secrets always ended in disaster. ‘You should ask for help from your cousin.’
‘I cannot.’
This friend obviously meant a great deal to her if she was prepared to take such risks. Perhaps it was a friendship as she said, or perhaps it was more. He suspected the latter despite her denials. Clearly, though, she was not going to tell him anything more unless he could find a chink in her armour. ‘What is the worst your cousin is likely to do, if you tell him? Send you to his aunt in Yorkshire?’
Her spine stiffened. ‘Did you have to mention her?’
Trying to make her see sense was getting him nowhere. He couldn’t think why he was bothering. ‘I will send you a note the moment I have the information you seek.’
‘No. My cousin will wonder...’
Now she cared about the proprieties. He smiled a grim smile. ‘And now you know the reason your family tries to protect you.’
She coloured, no doubt recalling their kiss.
‘Well then, what engagement do you have tomorrow night?’ he asked.
She looked startled.
‘I am invited to all the best places, you know.’ He swallowed the urge to chuckle at her look of chagrin. ‘I promise you, I will be discreet.’
‘We are to attend Lady Bloomfield’s musicale tomorrow evening.’
‘Very good. I will see you there. In the meantime, let me get you back into your disguise and send you home in my carriage. You should not be wandering the streets at this time of the morning.’
She gasped. ‘I couldn’t possibly arrive in your carriage. Someone might see it.’
This time he laughed. ‘Do you think I am not up to snuff when it comes to intrigue? My dear Lady Tess, the carriage will be unmarked and it will drop you around the corner from your cousin’s house, but my driver will ensure you go inside before he leaves.’ He’d make sure Growler drove her home. He would find the location of this Freeps and that would be an end of the imbroglio. He had enough going on in his life, without adding the problem of a woman who didn’t trust him an inch.
Thank goodness when he decided to take a wife again, it would be a nice, quiet girl who would be happy embroidering handkerchiefs, producing his heirs and behaving herself with decorum. He wished he’d married a woman like that the first time. A woman more like his mother. A faint bedtime memory of a sweet voice singing drifted across his mind. He tried to recall her face, but it drifted away like smoke on a breeze.
Bitterness filled him. He had so few memories of his parents and they were getting more and more elusive. Forcing his mind back to the present, he picked up the sash and one of the pillows. ‘Come on, then. Let’s get you ready.’
The sooner she left, the sooner he could get back to what was important.
And yet as he tied the sash around her now bulky form his unruly body expressed a strong desire to take her out of her clothes, not bundle her up.
Dammit.
The Bloomfield music room was full to bursting. Seated in a row near the front, only by sheer willpower did Tess squash the urge to look over her shoulder to see where Sandford was seated.
‘Sit still, Theresa,’ Wilhelmina hissed. She glanced worriedly at the man on Tess’s other side, the man whom Phin wanted her to marry. Somewhere in his late thirties, Mr Stedman wasn’t much taller than Tess, and his pale complexion and portly figure spoke of a sedentary life. Fortunately, at the moment he seemed oblivious to everything but the young lady playing the harp. A most uninspired performance in Tess’s estimation, but perhaps she was not in the mood for music. She nibbled her bottom lip. Would Sandford keep his promise? And if so, how would he manage to speak to her without attracting attention?
The piece finally concluded to polite applause.
‘Brava!’ Stedman called out. Several people turned to stare, but he seemed oblivious to that, too. He half-turned in his seat. ‘A fine example of the young lady’s talent, Lady Theresa. When might I have the pleasure of hearing you play or sing?’
When the sun ceases rising above the horizon?
‘Theresa has a lovely voice,’ Wilhelmina hastened to say. ‘Perhaps when you have dinner with us next week she will oblige us.’
Tess gritted her teeth at their insistence on using her full name. Could she really stand listening to her name spoken in that precise way for the rest of her life? She might not have a choice if Grey couldn’t be found. And even he was located he might be unable or unwilling to assist... She forced the doubt aside. Grey would not let her down again. He must only have meant to borrow the bracelet, perhaps to pawn? Surely he would have intended to redeem it as soon as possible and return it to her?
‘Refreshments are served in the Egyptian drawing room,’ their hostess announced from the front of the room.
Mr Stedman offered his arm and, along with the rest of the guests, they shuffled along their respective row and were herded out of the gilt music-room doors. The invitation had spoken of a select gathering, but to Tess it looked as if every member of the ton were present. All except Sandford. Dratted man.
Mr Stedman hissed out a breath. ‘Lady Theresa. My arm. Your grip.’
She loosened her hold. ‘I beg your pardon.’
He patted her hand where it now rested lightly on his sleeve. ‘Do not fear, I shall protect you.’
He couldn’t protect a rabbit. A baby one. She smiled absently, scanning the faces around her, but given her lack of inches she could not see beyond those standing closest.
The drawing room proved to be a nightmare of overcrowded heavily carved furniture representing all manner of strange beasts, such as crocodiles and ibis. One had to be careful not to bark one’s shins on sharp claws or beaks while manoeuvring around the people crammed inside.
‘I must congratulate Lady Bloomfield on her daughter’s performance,’ Wilhelmina said. She swanned off in a rustle of royal-blue silk.
‘I shall get us some tea,’ Mr Stedman announced. ‘Wait right here.’
Was she to pretend to be a statue? Tess inched out of the centre of the room to stand beside a low table by a window.
Finally, she could breathe. And have a proper look about her.
‘Lady Tess.’
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the
