Not as close as Georgia and Georgina, and she’d had trouble remembering my false name. Still, if she felt comfortable calling Emma by Eugenie, I wouldn’t complain. “Get anything you might need from your room and come back here. Once you’re dressed for the ball, you’ll have to stay here until dinner is nearly over and then you can slip into the garden undetected.”

Emma nodded. “I’ll float between the gardens and indoors?”

“Yes. There will be guests from other house parties and local gentry. Try to deflect any questions on which group you’re with. Play mysterious.”

“Any man who is spending all his energy trying to find out who you are is not involved in espionage. Ignore him,” Phyllida added.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EMMA left to get what she needed from her room while I went next door with Phyllida to assist her with her corset. When Emma returned, bread and an apple stolen from the kitchen tucked into her bundle, Phyllida was ready to have her hair dressed.

By the time we moved into my room, Phyllida was ready in a matronly wine-colored gown liberally decorated with black lace and ropes of pearls. She helped both of us into our ball gowns, mine dark green and Emma’s the light blue. Both of the dresses were off the shoulder and showing a great deal of cleavage.

“Remember, there’s a man in your life. You couldn’t wear that dress if you were shopping for your first husband,” Phyllida warned Emma.

“Perhaps I’m a merry widow,” Emma said with a smile as she looked at her reflection in the full-length glass.

I thought of Rosamond Peters and Clara Gattenger and their secret. No one was merry in those events. “You’d better make up your mind on your story. You’re going to be drawing men like moths to a flame.”

Looking in the glass, I decided I looked nice. Maybe even pretty. However, Emma was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Maybe I’ll avoid notice,” Emma said as she began to work on my hair.

“I doubt it. Do you know where Sumner is supposed to be?”

Emma yanked on my hair. “He’s gone.”

“But why? He should get to see you in that gown,” Phyllida said.

“Well, he won’t.” She gave a loud sniff.

I knew I’d risk being bald by the time we finished this conversation, but I had to find out. “What has happened? Where did he go?”

“Sumner’s gone back to town. Blackford’s orders. Jacob’s going to approach the clerk he thinks is the leak in the Admiralty records room with new evidence the Archivist Society’s uncovered. Jacob’s going to try to force the clerk to confess. Sumner has been ordered to shadow them while members of the Archivist Society are watching the garden here.”

“Far be it from me to correct a duke, but why didn’t he have Fogarty or one of our other Archivist Society members tail Jacob?”

“He sent Sumner because he doesn’t trust Fogarty to do the job properly.” Emma made a face but didn’t say another word. She finished my hair, did her own in a simple upsweep that Phyllida decorated with a few jewels, and pointedly stared at us, waiting for our departure.

I answered a knock on my door to find the duke, elegantly attired in evening clothes, waiting for me. I made a small gesture with my head and he entered my room, his eyes widening when he saw Emma.

“This is Eugenie, a mysterious guest. She’ll enter the gardens while we’re having dinner,” I told him.

“She won’t be the only one. The higher-ups in government refuse to believe any of this. Scotland Yard is overburdened with the arrival of the Russians and the anarchists. The local police refuse to get involved. So we have Archivist Society members watching the grounds.” He strode over to where Emma stood. “You have your knife? Good. I’ll have Sir William escort you around the gardens. At least we have Sir William and Mr. Nobles assisting us.”

Then the duke turned to me. “Where did you get that bruise?”

Both my shoulder and wrist showed the results of Sir Henry’s persuasion. At least I had covered my wrists with my twenty-button gloves. “Let me get my lacy shawl.”

“Georgia.”

“I think you can guess.”

“When this is over, Sir Henry and I will have words.” His tone made me think more than talking would be involved. I’d suffered worse during investigations before. Never had anyone threatened to avenge my injuries.

I put my hand on his shiny black jacket sleeve and marched out of the room, Phyllida following us.

The fantasy of every young girl is to walk down a grand staircase on the arm of a handsome, virile duke to attend a ball. I was nearly thirty and pretending to be someone I wasn’t to stop an espionage plot, but I was living that fantasy.

The staircase was carpeted in acres of red with a carved banister. The Duke of Blackford was tall, dark, and manly. His formal evening attire was the deepest black with a blazing white bow tie and shirt. My dress, dark green with swirls of silk and satin, made me look like an alluring, elegant woman. I would carry the thrill of sweeping down those stairs like a princess until the day I died.

“You look ravishing, Georgia,” the duke murmured, and I almost missed a step.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“I will claim my waltz if I personally have to stop von Steubfeld from interfering. If he tries to grab those plans during the ball, I will shoot him.” Blackford stared at me, his eyes darkening.

His words made my heart hammer against my corset. “I’ll load the gun.”

He grinned as he led me to the parlor where the guests were to meet before going in to dinner. As soon as we entered the room, Lady Harwin stole the duke away to introduce him to some local notable. My fantasy ended too quickly, but his words, I will claim my waltz, rang in my brain.

“The duke appears quite smitten,” Phyllida said.

“He’s playing his role well.”

“No. He wasn’t acting. There was no audience except me. And I do not count.”

I glanced at Phyllida. She smiled serenely.

Time to get my mind back on business. “I’d introduce you to Sir William and Mr. Nobles, but I don’t think they’ll be here until the ball.”

“There will be plenty of time, then, but what do we do if Snelling brings the plans while we’re all eating pigeon or pheasant or some such?”

“We’ll have to trust our friends. Scotland Yard has failed us.” I knew we could handle this. The Archivist Society had to stop the sale of the naval designs and prove Gattenger’s innocence.

“Scotland Yard has failed us?” Lady Rosamond Peters asked. “Whatever are you discussing?”

I jumped. “That young man who tried to steal Lady Phyllida’s hatbox. If anyone is going to stop crimes like that against ladies while they’re shopping, it has to be Scotland Yard. So far they’ve failed us.” I hoped it sounded believable. I didn’t have any better ideas, and I still had no idea what would happen tonight.

“Stealing a hatbox is such a strange crime. I doubt we’ll hear of anyone else threatened in that manner,” Lady Peters said. “I’m glad to see you on your feet again.”

Good. She appeared to buy my excuse for mentioning Scotland Yard. “Either I heal very quickly or the blow was not as bad as first thought. Of course, my recovery could be aided by my desire to waltz with the duke.” I gave Lady Peters a cheery smile and she laughed.

“You can hardly be blamed. I see the way he looks at you.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Not at all. I think he regrets letting you get away in India all those years ago.”