Page 33 of To Catch an Earl

Alex shook his head. Or did she think thathewould be the weak link? That she could somehow sway him from turning her in? A muscle ticked in his jaw. Did she plan to seduce him into letting her go? His groin throbbed in an enthusiasticyes!

God knew, he would be tempted.

He frowned, irritated at himself. No. He wouldnotbe swayed, however persuasive that sweet body and those glorious lips might be. The law was the law. Reason free from passion. Just as Aristotle said.

Half an hour later, having spoken to Lady Carrington, Alex had learned two things. One, that Lady Carrington deserved to have her ruby necklace stolen. When he’d asked to see where she kept her jewels, the woman had complied willingly; the endeavor required a trip to her bedchamber. Licking her lips—which were thin and not at all tempting in the way that Emmy Danvers’s lips were—she’d casually mentioned that her “incredibly dull” husband would be “away for hours at some stuffy parliamentary debate.” Perhaps Alex would like to see her newly redecorated boudoir? Alex had politely declined.

The second thing he’d learned was that the Carringtons’ neighbor, the Spanish Ambassador, would be holding his annual ball on Thursday night. Which meantthe odds were high the Nightjar would use the crowds and confusion to strike.

Alex bounded down the steps with a spring in his step, his pulse thumping in anticipation. Emmy Danvers was going to get caught.

Chapter 17.

Emmy’s dress for the Ambassador’s ball was dark-blue silk, an exquisite French-inspired creation that skimmed her shoulders and waist before falling in artless swirls around her legs. It felt as decadent, as smooth, as double cream.

Sally had pinned her hair up in elaborate coils on the top of her head, with a trio of black feathers and a diamond-studded clip, which added inches to Emmy’s diminutive stature. The feathers matched her black satin gloves and ostrich-feather fan.

Camille also looked magnificent, very much “la Grande Dame” in a gown of pale-green brocade shot with gold thread that shimmered when she turned in the light. Her upswept hair highlighted her excellent bone structure and piercing blue eyes.

“Well, don’t we look marvelous?” Camille laughed, her eyes sparkling. “The men of London should guard their hearts tonight.”

“Let’s just hope Lady Carrington isn’t guarding herruby,” Emmy muttered. “If she’s wearing it, we’ll have to come up with another plan.”

Luc, handsome in a black satin evening jacket, shrugged. “You’re good at improvising, Em. You’ll think of something.”

Park Crescent was teeming with carriages when they arrived. Light blazed through the open front door of the ambassador’s house as a stream of people waited to be admitted by the liveried servants. Since the Prince Regent was rumored to be attending, along with several of the royal dukes, members of the cabinet, and Wellington, a squadron of the Royal Horse Guards had been placed on duty in the street in case of any disturbance.

Emmy glanced over at the Carringtons’ house. As expected, only a few lights burned in the upstairs living quarters. Some of the staff had been given the night off, since they weren’t needed to attend to their master and mistress, and the rest were gathered in the basement kitchen, peering out between the railings to watch the fantastic creatures arriving next door.

As she ascended the staircase to the huge ballroom that occupied the front of the house, Emmy was relieved to catch a glimpse of Lady Carrington wearing a sparkling diamond choker. She’d left her rubies at home. Thank goodness.

Luc made his way to the room that had been set aside for cards and took a seat, while Emmy left Camille talking to some friends and made her way to the ballroom.

Couples, with elbows high and hands clasped, swirled around the inlaid wooden floor to the accompaniment of a string quartet playing Schubert. Conversations rose and fell in rhythmic cadences like the sea. Fans fluttered, jewels flashed, turbans bobbed. It was a dizzying, glorious spectacle. Emmy took up position between a decorativewooden pillar that had been painted to look like marble and a side table held aloft by a grotesque gilt dolphin.

She became aware of Harland when the back of her neck prickled in warning. His huge, warm body materialized behind her, a solid masculine presence impossible to ignore. He must have learned such tactics in the army; how to sneak up on an enemy unobserved. How to take advantage of the terrain and natural cover to gain an advantage.

She tamped down a delirious sense of anticipation. She’d known he would seek her out. His presence just added another level of excitement, of danger to the game. She had the feeling he would always be within arm’s reach. Was that a desirable thing or not?

His low voice came from over her shoulder. “Miss Danvers. Fancy seeing you here.” His tone was drier than a desert.

Her whole body seemed to light up, like a breathed-upon ember. “Lord Melton,” she said coolly.

Had she really kissed him senseless a few days ago? It seemed impossible. She wanted to do it again.

“Tell me one thing about yourself that very few people in this room know,” he said.

Emmy kept her gaze on the dancers.I’m a brazen, unrepentant jewel thief.She shouldn’t even be talking to him. Every piece of information might be used against her. But politeness won out.

“Very well. I enjoy discovering foreign words that have no direct English translation.” She glanced over her shoulder and caught his look of mild surprise. Any other woman would have told him she liked embroidery or playing the pianoforte or sketching.

“Hmmm.” The sound he made was encouraging, as if he’d received the pleasantly satisfying answer to a puzzle that had been plaguing him for some time. Emmy decided to elaborate.

“The French have several of them.L’esprit de l’escalier, for example. It literally means ‘staircase wit’ and is used to describe that perfect, clever retort you think of only after someone’s left and you’re going back upstairs.”

Harland smiled—a wide, genuine smile that lit his eyes—and her heart seized in her chest. His smile was a thing of beauty, something rare and wonderful. She wanted to make it appear again.

“Sortableis the adjective to use for friends and family members you can take out in public without fear of being embarrassed,” she said.

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