“Good luck, Your Grace.”

He still held my hand as he stared into my eyes. I gazed back with no desire to break our connection. His bare skin was smooth and lightly callused, warm against my hopeful fingers. I clung to his hand, breathing in his scent of brandy and expensive cigars. I didn’t want this perfect moment to end.

Emma said, “I’m off to bed unless you need me for something.”

The duke blinked and dropped my hand. “Good night, Emma. That was well done following von Steubfeld’s man.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” With the click of the door latch, she was gone.

He didn’t move away from the side of my bed. “How sure are you that the man you saw today was your parents’ killer?”

“Completely certain. It’s the same man I saw in the spring. The same man I saw kidnap and murder my parents when I was seventeen.”

“Have you any evidence he’s the guilty party?”

“After Drake was arrested last spring, after you said good-bye, I received a letter from the man I’d been following. He didn’t sign the note, but he was the one. He made that clear. He said he now knew we didn’t have his Gutenberg Bible. He was leaving London for the time being, and perhaps we’d meet someday. He didn’t say where he was going, but we know he sailed into Southampton from Cape Town a few weeks ago.”

Blackford nodded once. “After we retrieve those plans tomorrow night, I’ll help you find this killer.”

I believed him.

*   *   *

I AWOKE THE next morning after sleeping well in the cool country air. Emma brought me a breakfast tray and then sat on the foot of the bed in a most un-lady’s-maid fashion. “Where would be a good place for me to watch tonight?”

“You’ve seen more of the house than I have. Is there a safe place to watch from the gardens, or will there be couples strolling around?”

“There are several young people coming to the ball. I’d bet there’ll be couples on all the paths and in all the parlors.” She rose and looked out my window. “You and Phyllida have the same view of the garden facing toward the village, but yours isn’t blocked by trees. I may camp out here in the window and keep an eye out for the man I saw meeting the baron’s man last night.”

“Will you be able to recognize him in the dark?”

She gave me a confident smile. “It should be a clear night with an almost full moon. I’ll be able to recognize him. Will you be able to dance tonight?”

“We’ll cinch up my ankle and it’ll be fine.” I returned her smile with an assurance I didn’t feel.

She studied me for a moment. “Do you think the coach ran you down deliberately?”

“I don’t know anyone who would do that.” I hadn’t left many enemies in my wake. They were all locked away. Or hanged.

“The person who left the notes might have hired the driver.”

“He’s the younger son of a marquis. He wouldn’t need the money.”

“He might,” Emma said, “or he might owe your anonymous letter writer a favor or a debt. How many of the people here see us as a hindrance to their obtaining the blueprints?”

That was the question. Sir Henry had the wrong idea of what I was up to and thought he was using me. But someone in this group knew about my interest in retrieving the blueprints and wanted me stopped. The group I traveled with knew when we’d reach Cheltenham Spa.

Or could it be the mysterious Sir Jonah Denby? The men at our dinner party the night before hadn’t thought Denby would be interested in the ship design. He knew my real name, but did he know I’d come to Cheltenham Spa?

And if somebody had arranged this, how had they planned to get me into the street to be run over? I’d done that for them. I’d set myself up for what otherwise would have been a very chancy effort to stop me.

Too chancy to be practical. And whoever was behind the theft of the blueprints and Clara’s death was definitely practical.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A tap on the door was followed by Phyllida walking in, beaming. “Good morning. A few of the ladies are going to the pump room today to take the waters. Do you feel up to joining us?”

Emma and I exchanged a guilty look, since we’d just been discussing my getting run down deliberately. “I’d better rest my foot until tonight. I’d like to be able to dance, and I think the more rest I give it now, the better it’ll be for the ball.”

She shut the door and walked closer. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

I took her hand. My answer was as honest as I could make it when I said, “We don’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. But if someone should let something odd slip in the course of the day’s conversation, please let us know.”

She appeared to shrink into herself. With a timid voice, she asked, “How will I know if it’s odd?”

“Phyllida, you know how these people think and talk and move. You can spot the one false note in an entire symphony of aristocratic chatter. You’ll know if something’s off.”

Her smile turned more confident. “When we return, I’ll tell you everything I hear. Now, rest that ankle. The duke plans to waltz with you, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

He never did, but this time, I was glad.

The day passed slowly. Rosamond Peters and Lark Bennett came by my room separately to see if I could join them on their jaunt to the pump room to taste the spring waters. Lady Peters seemed genuinely concerned for me. Lady Bennett smiled like a snake who’d already bitten her prey.

Emma brought more ice for my foot. After my skin became cool to the touch, I tried standing. The injured foot ached, and I had a nasty bruise, but both feet bore my weight equally well.

I looked up from where I stared at the floor to Emma and said, “I can do it. The carriage struck me with a sharp blow, but I didn’t twist anything. Let me keep ice on it for the day, and tonight I’ll be ready for a dozen conspiracies.”

“Good, because we have no idea what’s going to happen.”

“Emma, see if you can find out where the valets and lady’s maids spend their time during dinner and the ball. You’ll be able to tell quicker if the baron’s valet is missing that way. And I suspect the baron won’t want to get his hands dirty with the plans if he can help it.” I put my foot back up on the bed with the ice.

“Do you want me to watch from wherever the servants gather rather than at your window?”

“Start with where they wait. If you don’t have any luck there, then try my window. Do you know where Sumner is going to be?”

Emma shook her head. “The duke sent me into the house. I don’t think he wanted me to know.”

“The duke doesn’t like to share information. Unfortunately, it makes solving crimes more complicated for the rest of us.” I didn’t hide the grumble in my tone. Peers might think they were above everyone else, but that attitude created nothing but problems.

“I heard from Sir Broderick. Fogarty and three others are coming out here on the morning train. They’ll be waiting on the road up to the estate and in the park for Snelling.”

“All city dwellers. I wonder how they’ll blend in on an estate.” I was worried for my fellow Archivist Society members. We were all Londoners, and to us this rural area could be on a different planet. We would stand out, and someone wanted us dead.

Emma grinned. “Snelling has the same problem. He’s a Londoner, too.”

“Have you heard how much support we’ll get from the local bobbies?”