Page 48 of Earl's Well That Ends Well (The Way to a Lord's Heart 5)

A jumble of curiosity and caution, along with a lamentable tinge of jealousy, unsettled Arthur.

“Such an odd place to find her though,” the man added.

“Is it?”

Thecondelooked up and down the shabby street. “So very…primitive.”

“As opposed to?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Where would you expect to find her? If not this sort of place.”

“Ah.” The man’s smile this time was satisfied, like a fisherman who felt a tug on his line. “A noble household with all of its…luxuries. Of course.”

There was definitely something off about this fellow. All Arthur’s instincts told him so. He was ready to walk away. Yet he couldn’t help asking, “Were you a friend of her husband?”

“Her…? Oh. No. Not her husband.”

Something badly off. The Spaniard had been oddly surprised by that question.

“I did know many others very…close to her.”

He wanted Arthur to draw him out. He wanted to dole out bits of gossip and be courted for more. And certainly rewarded for his knowledge. He was that sort of weasel. This exchange was feeling deeply distasteful. But Arthur’s protective impulses had also been roused. “How did you find her here?”

The Spaniard was off-balance for only a moment. Then he made an airy gesture. “I have been asking about old friends at the embassy.”

The señora had shown no sign of being in communication with Spanish diplomats, Arthur thought. His own inquiries had confirmed that. He wondered suddenly if he had alerted them to her presence by asking.

“His Excellency was very accommodating,” the other man added.

Immediately certain that the fellow wasnotacquainted with the Spanish ambassador, Arthur turned away. “I have an engagement,” he said. “I must go.”

“I will walk with you, if you permit. I am not familiar with London and often find myself quite lost.” A self-deprecating gesture and smile accompanied this admission.

Arthur could not refuse such a request without a degree of rudeness he was unwilling to employ. As yet. It might be that he would eventually. No, undoubtedly he would. This sort of toadeater required definitive discouragement.

“Perhaps you could recommend to me the best ways to make acquaintances in English society,” thecondecontinued as they walked.

If he thought to wangle an invitation from Arthur, he was fair and far off. “I’m sure your friend the ambassador could help you,” he replied.

“Of course. But I would not wish to take too much of his time.”

Arthur amused himself by deflecting the man’s sallies for the remainder of the walk. It was rather like a game of tennis in which he declined every serve. As he shed the man’s unwanted company at the door of his club, he determined to warn Señora Alvarez about this insinuatingconde. He suspected she would not think much of him.

* * *

Teresa met Tom at the workshop early the next morning, by arrangement, to compare notes on their inquiries at the theater. She had managed to talk with each opera dancer alone about recent happenings, and she knew Tom had made close observations in their retiring room. They shared the tidbits they’d gathered and tried to put them in order. “We should get Miss Deeping to make one of her charts,” Tom said.

“We shall do our own.” Teresa found paper and ink and drew a grid with the name of the dancers, including those who were gone, along one side and a list of characteristics across the top.

“You’re every bit as good as Miss Deeping,” said Tom admiringly.

She accepted his praise with a smile. “We know that Odile, Sonia, and Maria had certain things in common.”

“From away,” said Tom. “Didn’t speak English well, not many friends, and no family to ask about them.”

Teresa put check marks on her grid for these things. “After my talks, I think there are other girls in the same case.” She ticked off two names.

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