Her maid, Minette, answered my knock and looked at me suspiciously.

“May I speak to your mistress?” I asked.

“Come in, Georgina,” was heard from inside the room. Grudgingly, the maid stepped aside.

Lady Peters wore an elegant ivory dressing gown. “You may go, Minette.”

The maid left, shutting the door behind her.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“A hunt for something of mine that is missing. But I suppose you know about that.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“My maid is called down to the kitchen by your maid for just a moment, and when she returns, you are outside my room. When she checks, this item is missing, and as she peeks out the door, she sees Sir Henry Stanford go into your room.”

“I was looking for my frivolous maid, and I can assure you I didn’t invite Sir Henry to my room.” I hoped Emma never heard I’d called her frivolous.

“What I lost is more valuable to Sir Henry than it is to me.”

“Then perhaps he has it.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps he does. Why have you come?”

“Lady Bennett just told me you saw Clara Gattenger on the day she died and gave her distressing news.”

“It’s distressing to me that Lark Bennett keeps telling people this story.”

“Except it’s not a story, is it?” When she didn’t reply, I said, “Did you know Clara suffered two miscarriages in her year of marriage?”

“No.” She looked at me through widened eyes. “That poor woman. I understand how much producing an heir means to the British aristocracy.”

“Did Lord Peters know he might have an heir before he died?”

She rose, walked to the open window, and looked outside. Perhaps satisfied that no one was below us listening, she said, “Yes, and he was very happy. He wanted the title to continue, and he wanted me to be provided for.”

“So he was content with his fate?”

“Quite content. He felt we’d accomplished all that we needed to do. All that we could do.”

I repeated what Phyllida had learned. “Even though by this time his body had wasted away so badly that he was almost totally paralyzed?”

“Must you bring this up now?” she hissed.

“Unfortunately, yes, since it involves Ken and Clara Gattenger.”

“I realize you miss your cousin, but knowing my secrets won’t bring her back to life.”

“I believe your secret was used to change the routine in the Gattenger household that evening. A change that was supposed to simplify a robbery but instead led to Clara’s death.”

“As if my secret hadn’t led to enough pain already. Most of all to myself.”

“How did your husband feel about your betrayal of him?”

She laughed, the brittle sound giving away her emotions. “Betrayal? Finding a suitable stud was his idea. Gattenger was one of his suggestions. I would never have done it if he hadn’t insisted.”

She walked over to me and held out her hand. “I’m a good Catholic. I loved my husband very much. But to make him happy, I had to defy the church and all that I believed.”

I quickly wiped the shocked expression off my face and touched her hand. “The affair was Lord Peters’s idea?”

“My husband was a traditional aristocrat. He wanted me to have a child, and I did. He was glad.”

“And Gattenger?”

“Doesn’t know. And doesn’t need to know. A secret fails to be a secret if everyone knows.”

I wasn’t sure that was right, but telling even Gattenger wouldn’t be fair to the child. “And the baron?”

“I don’t know how he learned our secret and Gattenger’s identity with such certainty. Bribed a servant, perhaps.” She studied my face for a moment. “I beg you. Please keep silent. After all, it’s a family matter.”

“Of course.” I wondered how Blackford would feel about dishonesty in the bloodlines of old, aristocratic families. I suspected he’d be displeased. I decided he shouldn’t know.

There was one more thing I wanted to know. “Is Lady Bennett blackmailing you with her knowledge?”

“Yes. She wants me to procure something for her. I asked Sir Henry to get it for me. The item that is missing is part of the deal between Sir Henry and myself.”

“I hope you find it.” I left, certain from what Sir Henry had said that the thing Lark Bennett wanted was the warship blueprints. Why would she want them? And if the baron was the one who’d ordered the burglary, why was Lady Bennett trying to get them away from him?

I needed to dress for dinner and the ball while wondering what to do about all this new knowledge. Emma came into my room, Phyllida following her. “How is your ankle holding up?”

“Very well, thank you. I should be able to waltz or give chase, depending on what’s required.”

Emma smiled at my response. “Good, because it was the duke’s acceptance of her invitation that made Lady Harwin decide to host a ball. The servants have been working hard the past few days on short notice to get ready for tonight. We could have cannon fire in the gardens and they’d be too tired to notice.”

“Where will they be?”

“Except for the footmen serving dinner and the tasks surrounding the midnight refreshments, they’ll be downstairs, out of sight and out of mind, and hopefully getting some rest.”

“And the valets and lady’s maids?”

“Wherever their masters and mistresses want them to be.”

I winced. “So the baron’s valet could be—”

“Anywhere the baron needs him,” Emma finished.

But if von Steubfeld planned to meet Snelling, rather than trust the task to his valet, we could end up following the wrong man. I told them what I’d learned from Lady Bennett about the baron’s nocturnal activities for that night.

“How can I help?” Phyllida asked.

“Where would you normally be?” My knowledge of balls was extremely thin. There wasn’t much need for a middle-class bookshop owner to be aware of the protocol for a country house ball, and it was limiting my effectiveness.

“I could watch the dancing. I’m sure there will be a card room set up in a parlor. I could read in the library if there isn’t a young couple using it.”

“We have the ballroom covered. Too well covered. Could you move between the library and the card room? I don’t expect the baron’s valet or the baron to slip out from either of those rooms, but it will give you a clear view of the hallway.”

“With a side door at the end of it,” Emma added.

“And if I see one of them leave? What do you want me to do?” Phyllida sounded half-thrilled and half-terrified.

“Find me or the duke or Sir William immediately. I’ll introduce you to Sir William as soon as he arrives. He’s a handy young man who works for the Foreign Office,” I added at Phyllida’s confused expression when I mentioned Sir William.

“And I’m to wait up here?” Emma asked.

We needed a better use of Emma’s talents. “How would you like to be Cinderella? You can’t come into the house from the garden until after the ball starts, but there will be so many people there, you should be able to blend into the crowd.” I gave her a wide smile.

“Nonsense. Emma could never blend in. Not with her good looks,” Phyllida said.

“But what red-blooded man is going to question Emma’s right to be at the ball? Especially if she’s dressed the part,” I asked.

Phyllida nodded in agreement. “You two are about the same size. Let’s see what you have in your wardrobe that will suit our mystery guest.”

“Do you have your good corset with you?” I asked as I looked at the gowns I’d brought with me. Phyllida had counseled me to pack everything I could because there was no way of knowing what I’d need. In retrospect, she was brilliant.

“Of course. I wear it with the plum-colored day dress that is supposed to be a castoff from you.” Emma studied my gowns and selected the light blue. “You can’t call me Emma, since someone will likely put two and two together.”

“Eugenie,” Phyllida said. “It sounds exotic. And I should be able to remember that, since it’s close.”