“Good. You’re not pretending.” He marched out of the room, leaving me to wonder exactly what it was he wanted me to do. I was very glad Clara hadn’t married him.

I climbed back under the covers, slid my ankle onto the icy towel again, and picked up the novel by Mrs. Hepplewhite. I began to read until my lack of sleep during the preceding nights caught up with me.

When I awoke, night had fallen and cooler air came in the open window. I sat up in bed and listened to my stomach growl. After a few minutes, I stopped being annoyed about my stomach and started worrying about Emma. What if she’d followed the baron’s man and been caught? I knew she carried her knife, but she could have been taken by surprise and overpowered.

Snelling was in the area. He’d killed Phyllida’s cousin Clara. He could murder again.

When I heard the soft knock and saw the door open, I nearly jumped off the bed. “Emma?”

“No, it’s me. Phyllida. What’s wrong?”

“Emma never brought my supper tray, and I’m worried—”

Phyllida stepped back into the hall. “Duke.”

Blackford entered the room behind her.

“Emma never returned with my supper tray. Where is she?” I controlled my voice with effort.

“She’s not waiting for me in my room, either,” Phyllida added.

“I’ll have your tray sent up and send a note to Sumner in the village to start a search there. Lady Phyllida, if you could ask one of the maids to find Emma and send her to you, that will begin a search here. What’s this?” Blackford bent over and picked up something from the floor near the door.

A note. He opened it and glanced at it before growling, “Someone’s onto you.”

I held out my hand. He walked the paper over to me so I could read it.

Georgia Fenchurch, you’ve been foolish. Now you and the Archivist Society members here will die.

Their deaths, and yours, will be your fault.

I stared into his dark eyes reflecting light from the one gas lamp burning in the room. “This is the third warning I’ve received. The first two were in Mayfair.”

“Warning?” Phyllida gasped.

“The only one who knew was Emma,” I told him.

“Sir Henry?” Blackford looked like he’d rip the man apart.

“No. He’s using what he believes to be Georgina’s secrets against her. He wouldn’t if he knew the truth.”

“Who, then?”

“I don’t know. And now Emma’s missing.” I gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back, and I felt a little relieved.

“I’ll find her.” The duke bowed to us and left the room.

“When did you last see her?” I asked Phyllida.

“She dressed me for dinner and then said she was going to the kitchen to get your tray. Goodness, Georgia, that was hours ago.”

I didn’t correct her use of my real name. I was worried, too.

“This note?” she asked, apparently afraid to say any more.

“Someone has known almost from the start that I’m Georgia, not Georgina. This person doesn’t want the Archivist Society involved.”

“Let’s go home.” She walked in a small circle, wringing her hands.

“No. Clara was brave, and she’d expect us to be brave to find her killer.” When she sank down on the bed, I took her hand and gave her the same squeeze Blackford had given me.

We sat together until my tray arrived. I hadn’t eaten all day, and I was famished. As I stuffed my face, Phyllida twisted the rings on her fingers. “She must be somewhere. Perhaps she’s following the blueprints,” Phyllida kept murmuring.

“Emma can take care of herself.” I didn’t know which one of us I was reassuring.

The maid came back to return the tray to the kitchen and I convinced her to act as Phyllida’s maid for this evening. I also learned she was the one who’d turned on the gaslight near the bed in case I should awaken, which meant Emma must have been gone since before it grew dark.

Phyllida took the girl back to her room and I sat alone, listening to the creaks of light steps and murmured voices coming from under the door and through the open window.

I had dozed off again when I heard my door open. The lamp I’d left on showed Emma and the duke slip silently into my room. I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding from surprise and relief. “Where have you been?” I whispered as loudly as I could.

“When I went to gather your tray, I saw the baron’s valet slip out the kitchen door. I followed him into the village.”

“Alone?” Blackford demanded.

“Of course.” Emma turned back to me. “He met another man in a tavern. I was watching through the window, wondering how I could learn what they were saying, when Sumner appeared. He went in and listened. He heard them argue about money, and then the other man, a young, thin man, said he’d bring it to the house and deal directly with the boss tomorrow night.”

“Sumner identified the younger man as Snelling,” Blackford said.

“Snelling is bringing the naval designs here tomorrow night to exchange for money. While a ball is going on.” Oh, terrific. I looked from one face to the other.

“There will be so many excess people here, one more won’t be noticed,” the duke grumbled.

“Sumner is certain they didn’t realize he was there and say that only to mislead him?” I asked.

“They were too busy arguing to notice much of anything. They were both faced away from the room. Sumner couldn’t see their faces until they left,” Emma told me.

“So who is the boss?”

“Sumner said Snelling never referred to the person who hired him as he or she. He did say he had an arrangement with one person and he’d give the drawings to that person directly in exchange for the money. He also told the valet if he works for the boss to report back that danger had raised the price.”

“So we know the valet didn’t hire the burglar for the baron. And the person who hired him could be male or female.” I shook my head in frustration, my plaited hair swinging over my back.

“Sir Henry in a deal with the baron. Or the baron himself,” Blackford said.

“Or Lady Bennett, who could have developed a taste for state secrets while bedding diplomats,” I said. Since I’d learned she had come between Clara and Ken Gattenger, I disliked her enough to hope she was the guilty party.

“God help us if it’s her,” the duke muttered.

I leaned toward Emma. “What happened next?”

“I stayed in the shadows until the baron’s man headed back to the house and the other man, Snelling, went the other way. I started to follow the German, but Sumner caught up with me and walked me to the house,” Emma told me.

“Did anyone here see Sumner?” I suspected the duke wanted Sumner’s presence here kept a secret.

“I did. And only me,” Blackford said. “He has his orders for tomorrow night. Are you going to be able to help us?” He gave me a dark look.

I looked at him with more assurance than I felt. “I’ll stay in bed in the morning, then have Emma tightly lace up my half boot. You may have to let me lean on your arm, looking adoringly at you, if walking’s too difficult.”

He snorted.

I glared in reply. “I will be downstairs tomorrow night. You can be sure of it.”

He strode up to the bed and looked down at where I sat, the covers demurely wrapped around me. His eyes darkened as I stared into his face and tried to gauge his mood. “I need your help on this, Georgia. I’m depending on you.”

I held out a hand to him. “I’d never let you down.”

He took my hand and grasped it firmly. “I believe you. Everyone from Gattenger to the queen will need you on your toes tomorrow.” Then the corners of his lips lifted in a sly smile. “Figuratively and literally. I want to claim a waltz.”

“I will be honored, Your Grace.” I would dance with a duke. With the Duke of Blackford. For that, I would endure any amount of pain.

“I’ll be busy with our host and the Foreign Office tomorrow. I’ll see you at dinner. Good luck, Georgia.”