Page 38 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

The murmured sound of her name pulled her out of her thoughts. For all his skirting around her, Grey seemed content to call her Farah still. It filled her with hope—hope that perhaps, by the end of the evening, they could put the yet unnamed something that had taken place in the gallery behind them.

The something that had had her wanting—no, needing—to pull him down by his lapels, and—

“Sorry,” she said with a vague gesture. “Away with the fairies, as always.”

He frowned. “Shall we sit?”

Scanning the room, Farah sighed. “It looks as if all of London has come to Ramsbury House.”

He led her to an open seat, muttering, “As I said.”

Ignoring him, Farah craned her neck in an attempt to take in the crowd. “It’s going to be like finding a button in a bowl of pebblestones.”

“A button in a—what?”

“You know what I mean,” she said, grimacing as a gentleman trod on her foot in an effort to find an empty chair to sit in.

Grey lowered himself into the chair to her left, but not before separating it from hers by pulling it aside a few inches. “All we can do is look.”

Irritation began to prick at Farah’s skin. “Was that necessary?”

His response was an innocent, “Was what necessary?”

“I’d really rather we—”

“Good evening!” Mrs. Ramsbury called. Farah turned to see that the lady of the house had climbed onto the makeshift stage that had been placed at the front of the room and was beaming at her guests. “Thank you all so much for coming.”

The crowd let out a polite murmur.

“Now, while I do have a set program for tonight, I thought we might make things a bit more exciting by testing everyone’s courage.”

“How so?” a raised voice questioned.

Mrs. Ramsbury grinned, her pleasure at having been interrupted plain for all to see. “How, you ask? Well, the stage will be periodically left open for any brave souls who wish to share their skills with us. And if even a minute of silence goes by, I will be forced to choose participants from the lot of you myself.”

A stony silence fell, punctuated by a few nervous titters.

“A badly delivered jest,” Mrs. Ramsbury assured them with a laugh. “Although the stage really will be made available at certain points during the evening for any budding performers inclined to share their skills, I won’t abuse my privilege as your hostess by forcing displays out of you. Now, let the musicale begin!”

Farah giggled as relief swept through the party. “My goodness, the terror in the room was almost palpable.”

“I’d have up and left if she’d been serious,” was Grey’s wry reply. “Inheritance be damned.”

“Speaking of the inheritance, our thief could be in this very room,” Farah whispered, hoping Grey could hear her over the sound of the pianoforte.

“Perhaps they’ll take the stage.”

Farah considered this, tapping her chin in thought. “I think you’ve just given me an idea.”

“Not my intention, I assure you.”

She gave his arm a light swat with her fan, even while delighting in this sudden return to normalcy. “Be serious. Think about it—the stage is the best place to be if one wants to get a good look at the crowd.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going up there.”

“No,” Farah said, shooting up from her seat the moment the music came to a close, “but I will.”

“Oh, a volunteer!” Mrs. Ramsbury crowed from the first row.