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“I bet Miss Thorne will be looking for you.”
“She has an upcoming mission. And I must be nearby in case she needs me.”
“Exactly where are you all from?” Ashley asked, trying not to seem too concerned.
“I’m certain you’ve never heard of it.”
Bloody hell. Why was it that they all replied with the same answer?
“Your wish, Your Grace?” he asked, his foot wiggling impatiently.
“I believe you should stay the night,” Ashley suddenly said. “A man of your importance gets the best bedchamber and a fine meal.” Ashley rang for a servant. The little man preened under Ashley’s praise and was practically licking his lips at the thought of a good meal.
“The best bedchamber?” he asked, his chest puffing up with pride.
“I hope you’ll do me the honor of being my guest.” Ashley had to find out where Sophia was. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her. He could probably get more out of the man with simple kindness and flattery, but he’d have that wish now. Then ask for more of the man on the morrow. “My wish is to have Miss Thorne.” Ashley knew she’d been at the Slipper and Stocking, but was that where she still resided?
The gnome appeared to mull it over for a moment, scratching his chin. “Which one?”
There was more than one? “Miss Sophia Thorne.”
“You can find Miss Sophia Thorne at the Ramsdales’ ball tomorrow night.”
“Ramsdale, you say?”
Ashley bellowed loudly and Wilkins poked his head into the room. Even in the middle of the night, the butler was still at his post. “Wilkins, do you think you can secure an invitation to the Ramsdales’ ball tomorrow night?”
Wilkins looked slightly taken aback. But the servants had a way of getting things done that Ashley had never understood. “For whom, Your Grace?”
Ashley fought not to roll his eyes. “For me.”
Wilkins looked started for a moment but recovered quickly. “I believe I can.” He nodded once at Ashley. Then he noticed the gnome, who sat with his chin resting on his upturned hand, his feet swinging a foot off the floor. The butler barely blinked. There was barely a twitch. He looked less startled to see a little man, fancily dressed, than he had when Ashley asked for an invitation to the ball.
“Good. Secure an invitation for me. And find a bedchamber—”
A cough from the gnome cut Ashley off.
“Take Mr…?” He waited for the gnome to fill in the blank.
“Just Ronald,” the gnome said with pride. As though it were his heritage rather than a single, ordinary name.
“Please take Ronald to our best bedchamber. And be sure he’s settled for the night.” Ashley reached out to shake hands with the little man. His grip was surprisingly firm. “I hope you rest well, sir,” Ashley said.
The man preceded Wilkins from the room, so Ashley called to his retreating back. “Wilkins?”
“Yes, Your Grace?” he said as he came back around the corner.
“Secure his door and his windows,” Ashley said quietly.
The butler smiled and nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Twenty
Sophia stepped out into the darkness of the night and shook the lethargy from her brain. She’d been engaged by the music since she’d arrived. Pulled toward it as though some invisible string connected her and it. She’d been listening intently ever since the moment she’d heard the lilting sound of the orchestra. Since the very moment she’d walked through the blasted doors.
It was a good thing her dance partners hadn’t expected he
r to converse, or she’d have been labeled a bumbling idiot the moment she opened her mouth. Certainly, they’d tried to talk with her, but she’d been so enamored by the music that she couldn’t put two rational thoughts together. Still couldn’t. It was much like being foxed. Drunk on the rhythm of the music. Yet it didn’t reach her the same way Ashley’s music did. It didn’t jar her very soul. It didn’t call to her the way his music did.
