Without further argument, the young man headed off into the milling crowd with even more haste than the first time.
Marianne observed the interchange between the two men with some interest. “You appear to have some acquaintance withLord Andover, sir. He, ah, seems to defer to your wishes without question.”
“Unlike a certain someone else,” growled the earl under his breath. “But yes, Andover is quite used to me barking orders at him. I’ve been doing it since he was in leading strings.” At her look of puzzlement, he added, “He is my cousin.”
“Oh, I did not know that. How … interesting.” She fiddled with the strings of her reticule. “You were about to say something, milord, before he appeared?”
Marcus pursed his lips. “I have a suggestion that may help to protect your sister from harm. But it involves, shall we say, some subterfuge on your part.” A pause. “It goes without saying that she would not be at all pleased if she were to discover your hand in it.”
“Please tell me what you have in mind.” Her jaw set. “Gus is not the only one capable of action.”
The earl repressed a twitch of his lips. “So it seems,” he murmured. “Well, I believe there is little likelihood that Ludlowe would attempt anything rash during such a gathering as this. However, an invitation for a drive in the park, an excursion to Vauxhall—these would all be cause for concern. If you were to, ah, keep abreast of your sister’s plans, you could contrive to send word to me of outings.”
“You meanspyon her?”
“If it comes to that, yes.” He hesitated. “It’s a pity we can’t keep her under lock and key, but at the very least, we can make sure she is kept under a watchful eye. That is, if I can count on your aid.”
Marcus sighed. “I truly don’t like to ask you to betray any confidences, but in truth, I can think of nothing else.”
She nodded in understanding. “I think it an excellent plan. You may depend on me, sir.”
He allowed a faint smile. “I’m sure I may, Lady Marianne. Now, do you think that big groom of hers may be enlisted to be part of our plan?”
“Jamison? Oh, I think we’ll have little trouble convincing him it’s for the best,” Marianne thought for a moment. “But what of during the night. She has been known to, er, slip out on her own at odd hours.”
“Yes, so I have noticed.” He rubbed at his chin. “I know of a man who will serve our purpose there. Trust me, your sister will not escape unnoticed the next time she takes it into her head to embark on some nocturnal sojourn. In the meantime, of course, I shall be doing my best to resolve this whole matter with my own inquiries.”
“The waistcoat?”
He nodded.
“Oh, I do hope you will discover who the culprit is soon and put an end to his awful deeds.”
“Learning his true identity is one thing, proving it to the authorities is quite another, Lady Marianne. It won’t be easy, but I mean to see that justice will prevail in the end, no matter what it takes.”
On that grim note, the dance came to an end, and the earl saw his earlier suspicions were nor unfounded. Augusta made a point of being escorted back to where several of her mother’s acquaintances were seated together exchanging the latest ondits. Taking a chair at the edge of the little group, she leaned forward slightly, as if intent on catching their every word. Marcus’s eyes narrowed, knowing full well that the gesture was prompted more out of a desire to avoid any look from him rather than any interest in what was being said.
He tossed back the remainder of his drink and handed the empty glass to a passing footman. “Since it appears unlikely that I shall have any further chance of talking some sense into yoursister, I believe I shall excuse myself, Lady Marianne.” He gave a slight bow. “For the next little while, there will always be a young urchin in the square across from your townhouse—you have only to send one of your footman with a note and it will reach me at any time of the day or night.”
As he walked away, he noticed Andover turn from where he had been studying a towering arrangement of potted flowers and venture back to the young lady’s side, ratafia punch in hand.
The young man had some sense, he noted with satisfaction. He had always been his favorite cousin, and it pleased him that the pup was showing both a laudable tact in his actions—and commendable taste in his choice of females.
And at least his cousin was making some headway with his suit, judging by the smile that came to the Lady Marianne’s face.
Alas, the same could hardly be said for himself.
He couldn’t help but steal another glance at Augusta. Just as he suspected, her attention was anything but riveted on the conversation taking place between the ladies. Her expression was scrunched into the peculiar look he had come to recognize as meaning some truly devious thoughts were being formed inside that lovely head of hers. He knew the best course of action was to take himself off, but as her eyes caught his, then turned quickly away, he abruptly changed his mind. Veering across the room, Marcus came to a halt in front of her chair.
“Hmm. Let me see, I believe I am penciled in for the next dance.” He reached down for her card before she could snatch it away, and made a show of examining it while surreptitiously scribbling something in the empty space. “Yes,” he announced in a loud voice. “So am I.”
Three turbaned heads swiveled around to observe the two of them with great interest.
Augusta clenched her jaw on realizing she had been out-maneuvered, but as there was little she could do, short ofcreating a scene, she reluctantly rose and allowed the earl to take her arm.
“That was an underhanded trick,” she said under her breath .
“Rather the pot calling the kettle black when it comes to being devious, my dear.”
