She blew on the liquid and took a sip. “Fine. I am quite happy with the job.” She lowered her cup and frowned. “Is there a problem?”
Apparently his sincere, friendly smile hadn’t worked. “No. No problem.” He took a sip of tea. “Well, just a little one.”
“What’s that?”
He cleared his throat and sat back, again attempting the sincere, friendly smile. She looked more confused than nervous. Wasn’t that proof that she hadn’t done anything wrong? “It’s not really a problem. I just wanted to tell you I will be gone for possibly a few weeks.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Gone? Where?”
“This is confidential.”
Amelia nodded.
“I take assignments on occasion for the Crown. I have been asked to help break a code that involves a great deal of numerical coding. Since I am fairly adept at numbers. . .”
Amelia grinned. “That’s wonderful. Does everyone know you do this sort of thing?”
Driscoll shook his head. “Only my brothers.”
“Why are you telling me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t know why he was telling her, actually. It started as a way to avoid discussing the money situation. Then he realized he wanted her to know that about him. His thoughts ran more along a permanent arrangement between them in the future. Possibly the near future.
Nothing that Dante said would dissuade him from believing Amelia would not steal from them. He also hoped by telling her these little things about himself she might feel comfortable to open up and confide in him. Let him know what or who she was running from.
“When are you leaving?” She actually looked troubled as she gazed at him over her teacup, which gave him hope.
“First thing tomorrow morning.”
“And you must stay there?”
He nodded. “Yes. Until the code is broken. There will be two others working with me.”
She grinned. “Number geniuses, too?”
“Hopefully.”
She avoided his eyes, her fingertip drawing small circles on the table. “Who will do your work while you’re gone?”
“There are others who are familiar enough with the workings to at least do some of the work. The rest I will complete when I return.” He reached out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I’ve done this before.”
“Um, is it dangerous?”
He laughed. “No. Not at all. Numbers don’t generally attack you.”
“Don’t laugh,” she huffed. I imagine this sort of assignment holds a certain amount of danger. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be keeping it all a secret.” A soft smile teased her lips. “I will miss you.”
Dear God, that was the wrong thing to say. He covered her hand with his. “I will miss you, too.”
As if a thought suddenly entered her mind, she looked up at him, wide-eyed. “You won’t be here for the ball?”
Hating to disappoint her—and himself—since he was looking forward to holding her in his arms, he said, “No. Most likely not. Unless we get very lucky and break the code quickly.”
“Do you think that will happen?”
He shrugged. “One never knows.”
He glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s time to prepare for the night.” He pushed his chair out and stood. Amelia hopped up before he could assist her. She twisted her fingers and looked as though she wanted to say something, but then shook her head and left the room, taking her captivating scent with her.
It would be a long assignment this time.
* * *
“There’s a ball the brothers have every year at the Rose Room. The masquerade where true ladies are even welcome. Most times there are hundreds of people in attendance. As an employee, Amelia will be there. All we have to do is get her alone, snatch her and we’re done.”
Randolph listened to Lyons who had come up with the plan on how to get their hands on Amelia. He still hadn’t told him he’d changed his mind about allowing him to take her for the gambling debt. It made much more sense to auction her off, take the profit, pay Lyons off and have some blunt left for himself.
“Yes. But you forget I have been banned by the bastards.” Randolph started to laugh. “Do you understand? Bastards. Well, at least one of them is a bastard.” He took another swallow of his brandy.
“Pay attention, Newton. This is our best opportunity to get the girl. You forget this is a masquerade ball. That means costumes. Masks. If you enter with me, no one will stop you. They are looser about who enters at this affair. You should know. You’ve gone to a few yourself.”
Randolph nodded. He just wanted to get his stepsister under his control. He’d already secretly sent out word about the auction. Time was growing short because he wanted to build up interest, but he didn’t want to have Lyons find out until they had her in hand. If he were to snatch her away from The Rose Room, he needed Lyons’ help.
“Fine. When is this event?” Randolph asked.
“A week from Thursday.”
“I’ll be ready.” Randolph downed his drink and waved to the footman for more. Soon he would have plenty of blunt to cover his bill here at White’s and take care of his tailor and haberdasher who had begun to hound him. And had the nerve to make threats. To him, a peer!
What he needed was a wealthy wife to provide a robust dowry so he could live the life he deserved. The money from the auction would put him in a position to present himself at ton events properly dressed to capture a wealthy woman. From what he’d heard throngs of American heiresses were arriving in London, their parents anxious for their little darlings to secure a title.
Well, he’d give them a title all right. He wasn’t too proud to admit his title was for sale. He leaned back and sipped his drink. Yes, things were certainly looking up.
16
“Do you have any idea how long this assignment will take?” Dante sat on the floor, leaning against the wall in Driscoll’s bedroom, swirling a snifter of brandy as his brother packed for his trip to an undisclosed site somewhere in England to work on the code he was expected to crack.
“Not long I hope,” Driscoll said, stuffing a few more items into his bag.
“I don’t suppose you addressed the issue of the missing money with Amelia?” He took another swallow watching his brother carefully over the rim of the glass.
“There wasn’t time,” he mumbled, hoping Dante would accept that answer. He snapped the satchel closed and turned to his brother. “Before I accuse an employee of stealing, I feel we need proof.”
“What proof? The numbers tell the story. When Marcus had that table, the returns were better than Amelia’s last few weeks.” He pointed his finger at Driscoll. “If you intend to use the ‘lack of experience’ excuse, it won’t work since as you know, the first ten days of her working that table, her returns were tremendous.”
Driscoll pulled his spectacles off and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “I don’t want to discuss this right now. I want to get this assignment over with. Then I will address the problem with Amelia.” When Dante opened his mouth to speak, he added, “That is the end of it for now, brother. I agree, something is going on, and I don’t like losing money any more than you do. But I swear to you once I return, I will solve this mystery.”
He picked up his bag and left his bedchamber. Dante followed him to the front door and outside to the waiting carriage.
Once Driscoll settled himself into the carriage, he reached out to close the door. “Please promise me you won’t do anything rash until I return.”
Dante’s lips tightened and he shrugged. “I agree to wait.” Switching from the touchy subject between the brothers, he said, “Is there danger involved in this assignment?”
Driscoll laughed. “Numbers? I doubt it.” He closed the door and gave Dante a slight wave.
As they made their way through the crowded streets to an undisclosed location, Driscoll attempted to put Amelia and everything confusing about her from his mind. Since only the driver—sent by Sir Phillip, th
eir contact at the Home Office—knew where they were headed, Driscoll had no idea how long the trip would take. They might even leave London.
He leaned his head back and tried his best to clear his mind. Cracking codes was not dangerous—as Dante had asked—but it did take full concentration on his part. The job would only take longer if he was unable to focus. He was anxious to get back to the club and put an end to these questions about Amelia.
It was during the trip that hadn’t taken more than an hour that he decided to do exactly what he’d been dancing around for weeks. Once he returned, he would question Amelia about the money and about her background. In fact, he would demand answers. Their relationship had grown to where they had to trust each other or there would be no moving forward.
And moving forward is exactly what he planned to do.
* * *
The night of the well-known Rose Room Autumn ball was the only day the famous gaming club removed the gaming tables and allowed dancing, drinking, and granted permission to proper ladies to attend the festivities. It had started as a way to build the membership a couple of months after the brothers had bought the business. It had been so successful that they continued it each year.
Paying for the liquor, decorations, music, food, and the lack of gambling did put a dent in the profits, but the return over the following weeks was significant each time they held the ball.
Amelia had learned all of this from her co-workers as they all helped set up the room to resemble a ballroom as fine as any prestigious house in London.
As much as she looked forward to the beautiful gown she was to wear, and the thought of actually attending a real ball, her spirits were dampened by Driscoll’s absence.
She had foolishly hoped his assignment would end before the ball, but she’d heard nothing from him, and was not comfortable asking Dante about it because he seemed to withdraw from her more each day. His friendly, easy banter that she had enjoyed so much when she’d first been hired had changed to a more somber attitude when he was around her. Not sure what to make of that, she focused on her job and waiting for Driscoll’s return.
Although she continued to add to her pile of coins safely hidden in a box under her bed, truth be told she was no longer certain she would escape London when she had enough money. Her feelings for Driscoll had grown over time and now with his absence, she realized it would not be easy to walk away from The Rose Room. And him.
During his absence, she’d decided the time had arrived for her to trust him enough to tell him about Randolph and his plan for her. The obvious possessive mien on Driscoll’s face when they were around other men had convinced her he would never allow her to be handed over to another man as his mistress.
Driscoll was an honorable man. Even though Randolph was legally her guardian, honorable men did not allow innocent, unprotected women to be wagered in a card game. Of that she was certain.
Now with the room set up, her part of the job was finished, and she was enjoying a bath in the bathing room and would soon dress in the lovely gown she’d gotten from the wardrobe. After taking up the hem and removing a few extra ruffles that she thought did nothing to enhance the garment, she carefully pressed it and it now hung in her room.
Margie, Betsy, Mrs. Bannon and Amelia were to meet in the kitchen before they dressed to fix each other’s hair. Because until a couple of years ago Amelia had had her own maid, she wasn’t exactly adept at fixing anything more intricate than a chignon. After the first time Betsy had fixed her hair, Amelia had taken over, not wanting to have Betsy believe that lady’s maid to another employee had been added to her duties. But the ladies were so enthusiastic about the ball she didn’t think her lack of abilities to help out would deter them from having a good time if their hair was simply styled.
In less than an hour after stepping out of her bath, Amelia left her bedroom, fully dressed and with her hair in an intricate design she would never had been able to do herself. It turned out Mrs. Bannon had been a lady’s maid many years before and knew enough to capture some of the newer styles based on her training. She’d used hot irons to persuade her hair to curl, then drew the bulky mass into a lovely, elaborate bun at the back of her head, with flowers intertwined. She felt like a fairy princess.
After fastening the emerald-green satin mask that matched her gown Amelia took one last look in the mirror and made her way downstairs. Some of the club members had already arrived, several with their wives. The musicians, dressed in proper attire, were setting up in the corner. Her stomach was in flutters thinking about her first ball.
If only Driscoll were here, she mused.
“You are looking splendid tonight, Miss Pence.” Dante bowed to her as she took in the transformation from a gaming club to an elegant ballroom. He was dressed in a black domino and a matching mask. Beneath the domino, he wore his usual formal attire.
He was a handsome man, and a favorite of the ladies. From what she’d seen, he spent a great deal of time flirting and teasing the women who visited the club on a regular basis. Amelia was sure he felt comfortable doing so because none of the women who spent time at The Rose Room were of the debutante, looking-for-a-husband ilk. In other words, safe.
From what Driscoll had told her about his brother, as well as what she’d observed herself, Dante had no desire to step into the parson’s noose.
She offered the curtsey she’d spent her childhood perfecting and added, “You look quite dashing yourself, Mr. Rose.”
He smiled at her for the first time in over a week and extended his arm. “Would you care for some champagne?”
“Yes. I would love some. I’ve never had it before.”
“Ah, then we must correct that oversight.” They strolled to the area set up with silver punch bowls filled with both spirited and non-spirited punch, along with a variety of wines, liquors, and champagne. Three extra footmen had been employed for the evening to wander the room with trays of champagne. A fourth temporary employee would be in control of the table holding the liquor.
Dante snatched two glasses and handed one to Amelia. “You certainly look like you belong in such surroundings. Quite comfortable.”
She stiffened at his soft words and slight smirk. Whatever did he mean by that? Confused by his statement, she thought it best to merely smile and sip her champagne. “Will the earl join us tonight?”
Dante nodded. “Yes, Lord Huntington was persuaded to leave their new offspring long enough to at least make an appearance.” He smirked. “I don’t expect to see him for long, however. My sister-in-law is not one who believes anyone but herself can handle the child, and Hunt will want to be right there supporting her.
“Have you seen the baby?” She grimaced as the bubbles from the champagne tickled her nose.
“Ah, yes. Driscoll and I were there when the birthing hysteria began. We felt it best to leave our brother to deal with his wife. However, we did return the next day to bestow our admiration on the urchin.”
“A beautiful child, I am sure.”
Raised eyebrows and a slight grin was the only answer Dante provided. He looked toward the door. “I believe with Driscoll missing, I needs make myself available to greet the members.” He bowed in her direction. “If you will excuse me.”
She watched him walk off and looked around to see where the other women from the club were. Margie and Betsy were speaking with two men across the room, and she decided to join them.
Amelia felt herself more observer than attendee. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. Being a non-member of Polite Society due to her isolation most of her life, she knew no one.
But she did enjoy watching the activities and conversing with Betsy and Margie. She hummed and swayed with the music until a man sauntered up to them, offered a slight bow and stared directly at her. “Well, who have we here?”
Betsy giggled and waved at Amelia. “Ah, since this is a masquerade ball, my lord, you must wait until midnight when everyone removes their masks.”
Amel
ia felt a jolt of panic. They were to remove their masks at midnight? Why hadn’t anyone told her this? She could not take a chance on someone recognizing her. For heaven’s sake Mr. Lyons might even be here! It would behoove her to keep track of the time and make sure she was upstairs, safe and sound in her bedchamber when the clock struck twelve. She giggled. Like Cinderella.
The young lord who Betsy chastised for asking for names looked at Amelia. “May I request a dance, my dear?”
She grew cold at his request. Addressing her so familiarly unnerved her. She was beginning to believe since Driscoll was unable to attend, she might have been better off passing on the ball. However, since denying the man a dance would appear quite odd, she attempted a smile. “Of course. I would enjoy a dance.”
“Ah, a waltz, my favorite.” He extended his elbow, and she rested her hand on his arm. They moved to the area that had been set aside for dancing. The dance began and the first thing she noticed was he was too close, held her too tight. She attempted to push herself back, but his arm clamped around her waist and he merely laughed. She could smell the alcohol coming from his breath.
He leaned in close to her ear. “I might not know your name, little lady, but I know you’re the dealer here who has all the men wagering on who you are. How about we take a walk outside? You could give me a peek at your lovely face under the mask. Help me win the bet.”
She moved her head to one side, her eyes watering at the stench of liquor coming from his mouth. The panic started in her chest at his words. There were wagers on who she was? She must give serious consideration to leaving her employment sooner than she had hoped. “No, sir. I am fine here.”
Once again, she attempted to put space between them. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, I thought all you girls liked being held close.”
Anger swelled in her stomach. “I am not one of the girls who like to be held tight, sir. In fact, I believe I prefer to end this dance now.” She tugged and apparently taking him off guard, he released her.
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