“I’d have thought you’d be packing for your trip to the countryside. Although it’s so much easier now that we don’t have skirts a yard wide, with underskirts and petticoats and hoops and underpetticoats,” Phyllida said.

“I hope we don’t ever go back to those styles,” Rosamond Peters said with a laugh that sounded forced to my ears.

“I leave all my packing to my maid,” Lady Bennett said. Apparently she was smug about everything.

“You trust your maid to decide what you’ll wear to every event while you’re gone? I could never do that,” I said and hoped no one repeated this to Emma. Her taste was much better than mine.

“Well, of course I oversee her work,” Lady Bennett said. “Oh, Rosamond, don’t tell me you plan to stay in London in this heat wave.”

“I’m also going to Lord Harwin’s, Lark. Celeste Harwin was a childhood friend of my husband’s, and she offered to rescue me from this oven.”

“Lark. What an unusual name,” Phyllida said. “I knew a woman who called her daughter Lark. Caused an unholy ruckus when it came time for the bishop to baptize her.”

Lady Bennett turned cherry red. Rosamond Peters had a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the laughter from leaking out between her fingers. And I had my mouth half-open, wishing I could question Phyllida further on this oddly named baby girl.

“Are you Genevieve Hollingsworth’s daughter?” Phyllida asked. “How is your mother?”

“She’s dead,” Lark Bennett snapped.

Phyllida reached out and patted her hand. “I am so sorry. She was a wonderful woman. A determined woman.”

Lady Bennett aimed a calculating look at Phyllida. “How did you not know Mother had died? It created a sensation fifteen years ago.”

Oh, Phyllida, don’t blow our story, I said with my eyes. Phyllida looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Georgina. I’m sure Edgar didn’t tell you about my brother, who was executed for murdering a score of prostitutes. It happened before you two met, but for years before he was captured, my brother kept me prisoner in my own home. I only received the news and the visitors he allowed.” She turned and faced Lady Bennett. “I heard nothing about Genevieve’s passing. I’m sorry if I brought up a painful memory.”

Lady Peters said, “How terrible, Lady Phyllida. You must have suffered terribly from society gossip.”

“No. I left. It saved me from being pitied. I can’t stand pity.” Then Phyllida gave the ladies a bright smile and said, “Where do you recommend traveling to avoid the heat?”

Lark Bennett gave a relieved sigh and said, “I can’t believe the Duke of Blackford hasn’t arranged a house party to entertain you and Mrs. Monthalf.”

“If he has, he hasn’t told me,” I replied.

“He’s probably just awaiting confirmation from his butler,” Lady Peters said. “I shall miss seeing you while you’re in—Northumberland, isn’t it?”

I’d seen his manor house within the castle walls, and I really didn’t want to go there again. I also doubted he kept the house fully staffed with a butler.

I needed to stay close to Baron von Steubfeld and Lady Bennett. A country house party would be isolated enough to keep out policemen and Archivist Society members and busy enough to hide the passing of the stolen warship plans. How was I going to crash a country house party?

“I wouldn’t think Ranleigh would go there except to administer his estate. He seems more accustomed to life in London,” I said.

“But London won’t cool down, not even for a duke. When they suspended Parliament, most of the peers fled,” Lady Peters said.

Lady Bennett looked me up and down before saying, “Are you and the Duke of Blackford an item? Forgive me for saying so, but you two don’t seem to be well matched.”

“In what way?” I asked, neatly lobbing her remark back at her.

“He’s going to have to marry a highborn young lady to give him an heir.”

“I can assure you neither of us has been discussing marriage. Have you been discussing marriage with von Steubfeld?” I tried to sound interested and hoped she’d tell me more about her relationship with the baron.

She laughed. “We just enjoy each other’s company. He came into London looking for an attractive widow to have on his arm for society affairs, and I like being surrounded by the mighty at diplomatic receptions.”

“Really? Your relationship developed as simply as that?” I said in pretended amazement, trying to get her to continue.

Lady Bennett turned to Lady Peters. “Tell her. I see you at diplomatic social events all the time.”

“I’ve only attended one or two.”

“One or two a month is more accurate.” Lady Bennett raised an expressive eyebrow.

Lady Peters shook her head. “I’ve been invited by friends on a few occasions, but hardly with the same frequency as you have.” She looked uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation as she glared at Lark Bennett.

“You’re far too modest,” Lady Bennett said. “The French ambassador is quite fond of you.”

Rosamond Peters blushed. “He’s an old family friend, soon to be recalled to Paris. And I’m sure you’ll be upset when Baron von Steubfeld is sent to another embassy.”

“I won’t have to worry about that until Christmas season. He’s assured me he has to stay here until then.”

“Why?” Phyllida asked. “How can he possibly be sure?”

I was mentally applauding her innocent question when Lark Bennett said, “He said his work won’t be finished until then.”

I suspected her of involvement in the theft of the plans until she looked directly at me and said, “Once he leaves, I’ll look for my fun elsewhere. Next time, I may set my sights on a duke.”

I wanted to laugh. If she knew the real relationship between the duke and me, she wouldn’t feel nearly as envious.

*   *   *

AFTER MY UNINFORMATIVE visit with Lady Bennett at Lady Peters’s, I planned to go to our borrowed quarters and sleep while Phyllida paid calls on a couple of old tabbies. I sent her on in a carriage while I walked in the blazing heat. After such a strenuous occupation, I was sure I could sleep well.

No such luck. Blackford arrived just as I entered the front door into the relative cool of the foyer. He followed me up to the parlor and then said, as I shut the door on the servants, “You look like hell.”

“I walked back from Lady Peters’s.”

“In this heat? Not advisable.”

“I needed to think.” I collapsed onto a sofa and waved him into a chair. “Sit.”

Never one to listen to a mere mortal, he walked over and pulled the bell rope. A maid immediately appeared. “Tea, please, with lots of sugar for your mistress.”

It must have been his ducal tones. The woman didn’t look in my direction. She simply left to do his bidding, shutting the door behind her.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why am I going to need sugared tea?”

“This investigation is entering a new phase. I discovered Sir Henry is attending Lord Harwin’s country house party, along with the baron and Lady Bennett.”

“I think Sir Henry is following Lady Peters to the Harwins’.”

“Or maybe Lady Peters is following him,” Blackford said.

I shrugged. “And Lady Bennett has nothing to do with this investigation. She’s after the invitations and the glamour. In fact, she hinted today that you might be her next conquest.” It might be impolite to repeat her boasts, but Blackford should be warned. I told myself that wasn’t jealousy, but rather a concern for any man subjected to Lady Bennett.

He brushed my words aside. “I won’t be her anything. Now, we need to keep an eye on them. Or rather, you do. I’m too obviously involved in the hunt for the blueprints. So we’ll be leaving Friday morning for a stay at Lord Harwin’s.”

“We will what?”

The maid entered with the tea tray as I shrieked out the last word. She looked from me to the duke with widened eyes, but she set down the tray without spilling and fled the room, shutting the door quietly as she left.