“I suspected you’d need heavily sugared tea,” Blackford said as he fixed a cup and handed it to me.

I took a sip. It was sugary, but it revived me from a state of sputtering disbelief to full-blown fury. “How did you manage to get us invited?”

“I applied economic and social pressure. Lord Harwin enjoys my help in finding the best investments for his dwindling fortune, and Lady Harwin enjoys mentioning the presence of a duke at her home. Then I simply invited the three of us, and your maid and my valet, to stay with the Harwins for a few days. Don’t worry. They have plenty of room.”

Was no one immune to Blackford’s charm and power? “How long are we going to be there?”

“Four or five days. Phyllida will of course go with us, as will your maid, Emma.”

I set down the cup with a clatter. “Who’s going to manage the bookshop?”

“Whoever’s managing it now.”

“Emma and I are spending our mornings there, taking care of problems.” Such as not shelving The Ruined Castle.

“I wondered why you looked so exhausted. Ladies are supposed to sleep all morning.”

“I’m not a lady. Remember?”

“It’s too late to back out now, Georgina.” He stressed my assumed name.

He was right. I was going to have to trust the Archivist Society to take care of the shop. I took another sip of tea and said, “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to the Royal Albert Hall tonight for a concert. All of society will be there. We will make a show of being surprised when we bump into the baron and Sir Henry, and then I’ll casually mention we’re going to spend a few days with Lord Harwin to get out of London’s heat.”

“We’re not sitting next to them again, are we?”

“Not in the Royal Albert Hall. There, the best seats are in the private boxes. I found out what box the baron reserved, and obtained one on the other side. We’ll have a good view of his seats, plus ours is close to the center and therefore more prestigious.”

Of course it is. “How will we run into the baron? He’ll be on the other side of a very large building.”

“Oh, he’ll come to us. Everyone will. I’ve invited Lord and Lady Salisbury to sit in our box. They accepted.”

My gulp of tea lodged painfully halfway down my throat. I managed to swallow without choking and said, “You’ve invited the prime minister and his wife to sit with us? I have to perform as Mrs. Monthalf in front of the prime minister?”

He smiled. “Think of this as playing your role on a larger stage.”

“What’s next? Dining with the queen?”

“No. That wouldn’t help with the investigation.”

Dear heavens. He was serious. My Georgina Monthalf disguise would have to be very good. “How will attending a concert with the prime minister help us find out if Clara Gattenger died in a struggle to save the blueprints and where those warship plans are now?”

“The best way to clear Ken Gattenger’s name is to seize those drawings during the handoff from the burglar. When the baron arrives to greet Salisbury, which he is almost obligated to do, I’ll tell him we’re to join his little country house party and that we’ll travel down to Gloucestershire with him. Start the party early.”

“He’s going to resist it.”

“I know. That’s why you have to convince Lady Bennett it would be great fun.” He gave me a patently false smile.

I raised my eyebrows in response. Spending more time with that lady would not be fun by anyone’s definition. Her sister’s husband could arrive at any time and denounce me, and my supposed late husband, as a fraud. “You’ll be able to do that better than I can. You’re the one she’s after.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to sweeten the offer.”

“How?”

“We’ll see.”

I hated it when he became enigmatic. However, I could understand his strategy. “You’re going to disrupt their plans as much as possible to try to force them to make a mistake.”

“Yes. Left to their own devices, they would have had those drawings in Berlin by now.”

“And the concert with the prime minister is tonight?”

“Yes.”

I was ready to slide down in my seat. “I need to get some sleep first.”

“Too late for that now.” Blackford spun around as the door opened behind him. “Ah, here’s Lady Phyllida. What have you learned?” he asked, kissing her hand.

“No one can quite decide if you’re lovers yet or not. Oh, good. Tea.” She poured more tea from the pot into my empty cup and drank. “Good gracious, the gossip that flows around this town. I’d forgotten how everyone knows everyone else’s business. Genevieve Hollingsworth, Lady Bennett’s mother, went completely bonkers before she died. Ran naked in the snow and caught pneumonia.”

Blackford cleared his throat, but I suspected it was to hide a chuckle.

“Oh, dear. Excuse me, Your Grace. I also heard the last Lord Peters was so paralyzed with a wasting disease for over a year before he died that no one can imagine how he fathered a child when he did. Of course, no one questions the little boy’s paternity out loud. So unfair to the child.”

Blackford huffed out a breath. “But it would be wrong for the child to have the title if there’s any truth to the rumor.”

Phyllida ignored him and continued. “It appears everyone knew about the liaison between Lark Bennett and Ken Gattenger, including Clara. She gave him a very hard time before she took him back. Meanwhile, Lady Bennett had moved on to the first secretary at the Russian embassy.”

“Is she a spy?” She certainly had affairs with the right personalities for espionage.

“Not one of ours. And Whitehall’s been keeping an eye on her,” Blackford told me.

“They’ve been wasting their time. She’s a light skirt with high expectations,” Phyllida said with her nose upraised.

“She may be both,” I suggested. Lady Bennett was having affairs where she could be learning secrets to pass along. I’d have to consider her as part of our current problem as well as a danger to my disguise.

I was growing weary of listening to gossip and being the subject of rumors. “We’re going to Lord Harwin’s country house party on Friday,” I told her.

“That will certainly tip the balance toward the two of you being lovers. Are you staying for dinner, Your Grace?”

“No. I’ll pick you up for the concert at the Royal Albert Hall. Tell her the rest, Georgina,” the duke said as he bowed and walked out of the parlor.

“We’re sharing a box with the prime minister and Lady Salisbury.”

Phyllida leaped up. “Oh, dear. There’s not a minute to lose. Anyone who wasn’t looking at us before will be now. What do you wear to sit in a box at the Royal Albert Hall with a duke and a marquis who happens to be prime minister?”

CHAPTER TEN

LEFT to my own devices, I would have been dressed in plenty of time. Instead, Emma and Phyllida worried over every detail of my costume and I still wasn’t ready when the duke arrived. Emma proclaimed me “as good as could be hoped for” while Phyllida said she’d “hoped for more.”

I told Emma to fix my hair because I was attending in what I had on at that moment. It was my finest gown, an icy green with a scandalous neckline, delivered from Madame Leclerc’s that morning, worn with low-heeled pumps and a simple necklace and earrings.

As Phyllida reached the door, she said, “You shouldn’t keep a duke waiting. I’ll be in the parlor with him, since some of us are ready.”

I rolled my eyes at her and told Emma to hurry. Emma grumbled, but she worked miracles with a bunch of hairpins and a bit of ribbon and a brooch. She pronounced me ready and I grabbed a lacy white shawl before I flew down the stairs to the parlor.