“It’s hot in here. Would you like to step outside and get some air?” I asked.

“What?” He glanced around to where I stared at the French doors. “Oh. Yes, I would.”

We cut a tangled path through the dancers. Von Steubfeld and Lark Bennett had been outside for a minute or two by the time we reached the doors. Long enough to have lost us in the dark.

When Nobles opened the door, I discovered I needn’t have worried. Past the light of torches hung from poles around the terrace, I could see two figures strolling in the garden away from the house parallel to the baron and Lady Bennett. A familiar pale blue dress reflected the moonlight. It was Emma, walking with Sir William.

Suddenly, branches snapped and bushes shook at the end of the garden beyond where the baron and Lady Bennett stood. Two men fell to the ground. “Gracious,” I exclaimed as Mr. Nobles moved forward, saying, “Everyone all right?”

“Burglar,” Fogarty said as he struggled to stand on his injured leg. He made a grab for his leaner, more agile adversary.

The second man moved into bright moonlight in the clearing for an instant, and I found myself looking at Mick Snelling. Before I could glimpse whether he was carrying a package the size of the ship plans, he bolted into the darkness and escaped.

Fogarty chased after him, leaving his bowler hat on the path. Lady Bennett looked over her skirt with an expression that said she was furious. Either she’d been splattered by mud or she didn’t like Snelling taking chances on being caught. Mr. Nobles walked over and picked up the hat. “I say, we’ve had a bit of excitement.”

His wide-eyed enthusiasm was so at odds with his usual demeanor I nearly laughed. Baron von Steubfeld, who’d been closest to the action in the bushes, looked at Nobles and in a tone that said the incident had nothing to do with him, asked, “Do you often have burglars at house parties?”

“They go where the pickings are the best,” Nobles answered and strolled back toward the house.

Since I hadn’t been spotted by the baron or Lady Bennett, I slipped back into the ballroom. The dance had ended, and the orchestra was readying for the next number. “What happened?” a warm baritone murmured in my ear.

“Your Grace. Mick Snelling was discovered by Fogarty in the bushes near the baron and Lady Bennett. There was a scuffle and Snelling escaped with Fogarty chasing him. The baron didn’t seem surprised by any of this. Lady Bennett appeared annoyed.” I looked up at Blackford, wondering if he’d come looking for me or if he was checking on the action in the garden.

The music began. “Georgina. Would you do me the honor?”

He led me out onto the dance floor and held me in an intimately tight embrace. While Mr. Nobles was a fine dancer and Lord Porthollow an energetic one, the duke held me so I couldn’t fail to match him step for step. We gracefully moved as one across the shiny hardwood. My dreams of dancing with the duke had never been this smooth. This polished. This wonderful.

I smiled up at him and let him lead me where he wanted. He noticed my smile and squeezed my hand, whispering in my ear, “Was this worth waiting for?”

“Yes.” I sighed. The feel of his breath on my skin was enchanting. I memorized the swirl of brightly colored dresses in time to the music. The one errant curl brushing his collar. The smell of his soap.

We twirled around the room once, twice, and then I made the mistake of looking toward the entrance to the room. There in the archway, standing with two other evening-dress-clad men, was my parents’ killer.

“There he is,” I whispered into the duke’s ear.

“Who? Snelling?”

“No. My parents’ killer. Come on.” I pulled Blackford off the dance floor toward the doorway. By the time we reached it, the three men had vanished.

I stood in the hallway, looking in all directions. The duke said, “This way. Front entrance,” and hurried me along. My dancing slippers slid from rug to rug on the smooth floor as I tried to keep up.

When we turned the corner, we saw the butler closing the front door. “Who just left?” the duke demanded.

“Sir Wallace Vance and two of his guests.”

While Blackford spoke to the butler, I dashed around them and pulled open the door. A carriage was in motion, wheels grinding and horseshoes clomping on the gravel drive. All I could see was the back of a large, dark-colored coach.

“His guests’ names?”

If the butler found my behavior and the duke’s question strange, he didn’t hesitate or blink. “A Mr. van der Lik and Count Farkas.”

“I didn’t see them at the ball. Were they in the card room?”

The butler remained stoic. “I couldn’t say, Your Grace.”

Blackford took my hand. “We’ll call on Mr. Vance tomorrow.”

I sounded slightly breathless as I tried to pull him toward the door. “He might have left by then.”

It would have been easier to move a mountain than the duke. “No, he won’t. We’ll meet him tomorrow. Come on, Georgina. We have more important business tonight.”

Unfortunately, tonight was our best chance for catching my parents’ killer as well as retrieving the stolen designs for the new warship. I’d vowed to find the ship blueprints and prove Gattenger innocent. That was the reason I was there. And I’d promised Phyllida I’d succeed in this investigation.

I’d have to ignore the man I’d vowed to catch a dozen years before. But only until the next day. Then I’d have the duke’s assistance to confront Sir Wallace and his murderous guest. “All right, Your Grace. Lead on.”

He took my arm and led me along the corridor. As soon as we were out of sight of the butler, Mr. Nobles stepped out of a doorway. “Snelling got away and took the drawings with him.”

“Where is he now?” Blackford demanded.

“We don’t know. There are Archivist Society people searching the town, but they’ve had no luck so far.”

“He’ll come back here,” I said with certainty. “He wants to get his money and be free of those drawings. They’ve been nothing but trouble for him.”

“I was surprised he didn’t follow your suggestion to his sister and take the drawings to Stevens to get a second set made and get twice the money,” the duke said.

“Stevens?” Mr. Nobles asked, his eyes narrowing.

“My butler. Mrs. Monthalf talked to his sister and suggested a plan for Snelling to double his money. It also would have meant we’d have the original plans and be able to pass on slightly altered, and useless, drawings in their place. He was spotted by one of my footmen loitering across the street, but after half an hour, he left and didn’t return.”

“A pity. It would have saved us all this effort,” I grumbled. It would also have allowed us to chase after the man I sought tonight.

The duke must have read my mind, because he answered, “Then we wouldn’t have needed to travel to the country at all and you wouldn’t have seen your quarry.”

“Who?” Nobles asked.

“A separate inquiry,” I answered.

“Shall we try to dance an entire waltz?” the duke asked, taking my arm and ignoring Mr. Nobles.

“I’d love to.” If Snelling returned now and destroyed my opportunity, I’d throttle him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE ball was lovely, fortunately lacking the reappearance of Snelling and the ship designs he’d stolen from Gattenger. Baron von Steubfeld danced with Lady Harwin, Lady Bennett, and an elderly dowager. Sir Henry danced with Lady Peters and then escorted her onto the terrace.