Sinless (The Shaws #1.5)

Since, presumably, Miss Childers’s father belonged to the City. The countess should take care what she said. If Andrew were of a more vindictive disposition, he might drop the word at the next Guild dinner of how much the lady despised Cits. They might already know. Her comments on their hostess were the only vulgar things in this hall that Andrew could discern. Perhaps he, too, was blessed with inferior taste. Perhaps his vulgarity prevented him seeing true beauty.

He didn’t care. Instead, he climbed the stairs in the wake of the more exalted guests, intending to search for his hostess. He was even more determined to leave quickly. He spotted people he knew, but nobody he felt entitled to stop and talk to, although some nodded to him. No doubt they would talk if he stopped. A few glanced at him curiously. Everyone chattered, fans fluttering, their cultured voices vying with the attempts of the quartet in the corner to provide sweet background music.

The packed throng proved the ball a success, a sad squeeze, even though the rooms opened for the ball were more spacious than Andrew was used to.

Halfway across, someone murmured his name, and when he turned, said, “Pardon me, are you not the man who appeared so brilliantly at Bow Street to defend Lord Valentinian Shaw?”

He stopped and modestly said he was. That led to another person speaking to him, and another, so that he took half an hour to reach the end of the room. At least he knew where to find Miss Childers.

The next room contained just as many people as the previous one. Andrew reluctantly began to enjoy himself, as word spread of his arrival and people stopped to talk to him. A few did not, for he had not been introduced to them, and some were sticklers for correct procedure. He did not try to impose himself on them. One example of that, and they would label him an upstart, or encroaching. Nobody could freeze a person where he stood like an aristocrat.

A few stared at him, either through quizzing glasses or directly, but he did not comment or appear to notice.

Would his presence there help him in any way? Perhaps if he wanted to pursue his career as a barrister and appear regularly at Bow Street. Very few people engaged barristers to act for them in such arenas. He did modestly mention that most of his work took place elsewhere, concerned with property management, but nobody seemed interested. They drifted away, so he did too and found his way into the music room.

Although a quartet of musicians stood in the large drawing room, presumably because dancing would take there sometime, the music room also contained a musical air. Someone was playing the harpsichord, though unlike at a musicale, the people here did not give it their complete attention. The person at the harpsichord must have been a professional.

At last Andrew spied his hostess. However, he was already wondering if he should stay a little longer. Perhaps, as Darius had mentioned to him once, attending an affair like this would be good for business.

However, he wasted no time crossing the room and presenting himself to her.

He bowed, and Miss Childers offered him her hand to kiss. He was careful not to allow his lips to actually touch her skin, and then straightened.

Miss Childers was smiling. “I am so glad to see you here tonight, Mr. Graham. You are very welcome.”

“You’re gracious to invite me.” Already he was wondering why. Especially since she had slipped a tightly folded piece of paper into his hand before she’d let it go. He kept it in his palm, covered by the lace at the end of his sleeves. He knew better than to slip it straight into his pocket, because people would notice.

“I heard of your performance at Bow Street, and I had to meet the gentleman who had created such a stir. But as you know I’m a single lady, so I added two hundred of my most intimate acquaintances to give countenance to the encounter.”

Andrew liked the twinkle in her eye that told him she was entirely serious. The citizens of London knew her statuesque figure and perfectly oval face and respected her for running her bank so well. She disdained putting the business in the hands of the trustees appointed to conduct business on her behalf, although her father had expected her to become a lady of leisure. After a few spurious attempts at overwhelming her with male strength and acumen, her colleagues gave up and accepted her. She had broken through their contempt with sheer persistence and a strong dose of intelligence and common sense.

“I was sure you had invited me on the wrong evening,” he said, taking the opportunity to slip the note into his pocket.

Several ladies standing nearby tittered, and a couple of fans covered a couple of mouths.

“Indeed no,” the lady explained smoothly. “I merely wished you to expand your circle of influence. You should spread your wings, sir.”

“Even if I have to mix my metaphors in the process.” As soon as he’d said the words he wished them unsaid. This woman was doing her best to help him. She did not deserve a riposte like that.

However, the gasp and laughter told him he’d done well. Even more when he saw the smile Miss Childers bestowed on him. “Well said, sir. I should take more care, especially when conversing with a man as sharp as you.” She offered him her hand. “I would appreciate your escort to the main ballroom, if you please. The dancing is about to start, and I imagine your minuet is meticulously correct.”

If she had targeted him precisely for her revenge, she could not have chosen more cleverly. He would have to admit his failing to her. She laid her hand on the back of his arm, the pressure pushing his limb into the correct attitude.

Leaning toward him as he walked her slowly to the main room, she said, “You have a few skills to learn, sir. Including, I imagine from the widening of your pupils, the steps of the minuet.”

Relief swept him so he nearly sagged. At the pressure of her hand, he said, “You are exceedingly good with your silent instructions, ma’am.”

“I’ve had to be.” Her tone was dry. “Mingling in two of the worlds of London has forced me to learn several skills most people have no need for.”

“Two of the worlds? How many more are there?”

“You know another as well as I do. Much better, I imagine.”

He frowned. “How so?”

“The trial last year. The criminal world.”

Shock made him stumble, but he apologized and continued, since people were glancing in their direction. If they stopped, they would find themselves in the center of another group. “You cannot wish to become involved in the criminal fraternity, surely, ma’am. If you do, I am not the man you need.”

“No indeed. Allow me to explain. But not here. If you can contain your impatience for half an hour, I would like to speak to you in private. I have given you the means. Half an hour, sir. In the meantime, you may escort me over there, to the portly gentleman in blue-and-gold. He is the Duke of Chandos, and he will lead me out in the dance. Despite his appearance, he is a graceful dancer, and besides, he is the most senior gentleman. I know my society rules even if you do not.”

“I do not,” he agreed gravely. “Not the detailed and complex nuances society demands.”

Lynne Connolly's books