“None. They seem to think if the Metropolitan Police can’t handle spies, it certainly isn’t their job. Lord Harwin will no doubt send for them if he needs someone to make an arrest.”

“Wonderful. How did you find all this out?”

“Blackford’s valet. He’s a nice older man who worked for the duke’s father originally. He passes messages discreetly without displaying any interest in what’s going on.”

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Help me get dressed and downstairs for luncheon. It’s time I started considering where and how those plans could be brought into the house tonight.”

I was tired of lying around. It was past time for me to get involved in this investigation.

I couldn’t pull my half boot on, let alone lace it up tightly to protect my ankle. The only shoe I could get on my tender, swollen foot was my dancing slipper, so I wore the pair with an afternoon dress. The black satin slippers looked silly with the high-necked, accordion-pleated top in lavender and a simply cut skirt in the same color decorated with beige lace. I hoped either no one noticed or my skirt hid the slippers from view. Being thought a Philistine wouldn’t help me escape notice as I hunted for the burglar and the naval plans.

I was able to climb down the stairs on my own with the aid of the massive banister and wandered the main floor without drawing attention to myself. The house was huge. Any hope of catching anyone doing anything in all these rooms seemed impossible.

I found the dining room almost by accident and discovered more than a half-dozen people seated around the huge polished table enjoying their first course. The men rose as I entered. I wasn’t surprised to see the duke, Lord Harwin, Baron von Steubfeld, and Sir Henry Stanford. The presence of two other men, Sir William Darby from Whitehall’s spy apparatus and Mr. Frederick Nobles, Scotland Yard’s liaison with Whitehall, did surprise me. And I was puzzled to see an older man at the table with the youngster who nearly ran me down the day before.

“Mrs. Monthalf,” the butler intoned.

The men all nodded to me.

“Well, I’m glad to see she hasn’t suffered any lasting injury,” the older man grumbled.

The younger man smiled at me. “So am I. Please believe me when I say I am grievously sorry for my actions.”

He was too much of a young rogue, grinning boyishly at me, to believe him, but I decided forgiveness would pay better results. “All will be forgiven if I can dance a waltz with the duke tonight.”

“I certainly hope so. You’re far too pretty to be sitting on the sidelines,” the young man said.

I smiled at the compliment as the butler produced a chair next to the duke and set a place at the table for me. Blackford said, “Georgina, this is the Marquis of Tewes and his younger son, Lord Charles Wilson. Gentlemen, Mrs. Georgina Monthalf.”

As soon as I sat, a bowl of soup appeared silently in front of me and the men returned to their lunch. Sir William sat across from me, and I wasn’t certain if I should know his name. “Excuse me. The accident seemed to have rattled my brains. Have we met?”

Sir William Darby flashed a glance at the duke and said, “I don’t believe so.”

The duke made the introductions. We made small talk through luncheon, when I learned that Sir William and Mr. Nobles were in the neighborhood and stopped by to pay their respects to our host, a friend of Sir William’s father. Lady Harwin, leaving on the outing with her guests, had invited them to the ball that evening, and Lord Harwin had invited them to lunch.

I was amazed at how, in the rarified world of the aristocracy, everyone knew everyone else.

After luncheon, Mr. Nobles asked to see the garden. When the rest of the men went outside, Sir William delayed, fascinated by some paintings. I expressed an interest in the same paintings, and we began to study them together.

Even with everyone else outside, Sir William spoke quietly. “We have Snelling under watch in the village. When he comes out here tonight, we’ll follow to see the handoff and then grab everyone at once. If it’s one of the Germans, we’ll be able to recover the drawings but we’ll have to let the man go. Diplomatic immunity and all that.”

“‘If’?”

“It could be an English partygoer who’ll act as the middleman.”

“Lady Bennett,” I said. “Or Sir Henry?”

“Quite possibly.”

“And our role?”

“Keep a close eye on the attendees at the ball. If one of them slips out of the room, follow them, but don’t engage. We will handle that part of the plan.”

“Four members of the Archivist Society will be out on the grounds, aiding the hunt for Snelling. If you don’t move fast enough, we will engage.” I stared at Sir William until he looked away.

When he looked back at me, he was smiling. “I believe you would.”

“Good. Now, do you have any idea about what time this will occur?”

“All we know is tonight.”

“Have you checked out all the guests at the other big houses nearby?”

“Everyone checks out, although”—he hesitated—“our inquiries didn’t go very deep.”

“So everyone at the ball tonight is a possible suspect. Wonderful.”

Sir William glanced at me. “The only people we’ll need to watch at the ball will be people with a connection to Baron von Steubfeld.”

I gave up any pretense of studying the paintings. “We don’t know for certain von Steubfeld’s role in the theft. The Germans could be one of a handful of bidders. Stanford, or someone we haven’t considered, might be trying to sell the plans for cash.”

“Then we won’t know who’s behind this until Snelling makes his move.” Sir William didn’t look happy.

“Precisely.” How I would love to learn who’d hired Snelling before the ball.

“We talked to Sir Jonah Denby. He knows nothing about the missing warship blueprints. He’s never heard of you. He seemed quite amazed that anyone would think he was interested in a theft.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.”

Sir William sounded so certain that I asked, “What does he look like?”

“Like any other midlevel civil servant.”

“Does he have green eyes? Does he walk quickly? Does he have weathered skin?”

“He has pale skin and walks with a limp. He has a withered leg, so he’s never been an outdoorsman. Uses a cane to get around.” Sir William thought for a moment. “His eyes are pale. I don’t remember the color.”

A chill ran down my arms. “Definitely not the same man.”

“Then who is he?” Sir William asked.

That was the question. He knew my real name, and he was out there somewhere following our investigation. Had he sent the threatening letters? I wished I’d sought a physical description of Denby earlier and not worried so much about his job and his associates.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps made me turn back to the painting. Sir William said, “I’d better get Nobles or he’ll drag everyone around to look at every plant. He’s fascinated by gardens.”

“He was beyond me as soon as he said something other than ‘rose’ or ‘daisy.’” Sir Henry came forward and nodded to us. Sir William returned the nod and retraced Sir Henry’s steps.

I said, “I’d like to speak to you, Sir Henry.”

“About Clara’s death? Or other matters?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s go into the library. We won’t be interrupted there.”

We walked down the hall, Sir Henry certain of our destination. After we entered, he closed the door and stood there, waiting for me to speak.

Sir Henry expected me to be meek as befitting a traditionally raised widow. That was far from my background, but I’d found it was better to conform to the other person’s image of me if I wanted the answers to the questions I asked. I recited Be meek in my mind a few times before I looked at the Oriental carpet and said, “What do you want me to do?”

“Search Lady Peters’s room.”