There was one exception—a Mr. Knighton, whom I’d met at one of Alana’s dinner parties. Apparently he and Gage knew each other well, for they shook hands and exchanged a few ribbing comments about Gage’s black eye before Mr. Knighton asked after Philip and my sister. He listened attentively, and never once gave me the impression he wished to be elsewhere. He even insisted upon claiming a dance from me later in the evening, signing his name to the dance card dangling from my wrist.
“I apologize if Mr. Knighton was a trifle overeager. I assure you he means well,” Gage told me after the other man had moved on to speak with another couple.
“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I thought he was very pleasant.”
“Yes. But he should not have forced you to dance if you do not wish to.”
I stared at him in surprise, realizing what he meant. “I never said I didn’t like to dance. In fact, I’m rather fond of it.”
It was Gage’s turn to look astonished. “You are? But why have I never seen you dance at the dinners and other soirees I’ve attended with you?”
I glanced back at him with a sardonic lift to my eyebrows. “No one asked.” I turned to survey the crowd surrounding the dancers inside the ballroom, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. But a tug at my wrist pulled my attention back to him. “What are you doing?”
He scrawled his name across my dance card in several places. “Claiming my dances before they’re all taken.”
I didn’t know what to say, but a fierce joy suddenly shot through me, making it difficult to stand still and allow him to finish. He looked up at me and smiled, just a gentle little curl of his lips that I knew was meant only for me.
“Now, see here, young man. Give the rest of us a chance,” a genial voice proclaimed. Mr. Stuart grinned widely at us, reaching out to take the card and pencil from Gage. “I don’t want to miss my opportunity to dance with the lovely Lady Darby.”
I shook my head at the man’s flattery. “Mr. Stuart, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Sebastian Gage.”
“You visited the Rutherfords recently,” Gage said, reaching out to shake his hand.
“I did. And, of course, you would know that because you’re investigating that terrible business that happened over at the abbey on Hogmanay.” Gage’s eyes widened slightly and Mr. Stuart winked at him. “I’ve heard you’re very thorough. I would’ve expected nothing less.” He turned back to my card to write his name down for the next waltz.
Gage seemed slightly taken aback, but he recovered his good humor quickly. “Yes. I try to be.”
“Have you apprehended the culprits?”
“Not yet. But we’re making progress.”
He nodded, looking back and forth between us. “Well, I’m sure you’ll catch them in good time. I’ve heard of your exploits.” He offered me a faint bow. “I look forward to our dance, Lady Darby.”
We watched as he wove through the crowd, on his way to sign another dance card perhaps. I smiled.
“He’s French?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Or, at least, partly so. I believe he’s quite widely traveled.”
“And the grandson of the Young Pretender,” Gage added dryly.
I poked him in the side with my elbow. “That’s Bonnie Prince Charlie, if you please. Remember, you are in Edinburgh.”
“Pardon me,” he teased.
A handsome couple standing near the corner where the dowagers were seated caught my eye. “I’m going to speak with the Strathblanes,” I told him, but decided not to explain that Philip had suggested the viscount would be a good man to speak with about my concerns over Bonnie Brock’s hints. Any mention of the criminal was liable to irritate him.
Gage followed my gaze, before leaning close to say, “Then I’ll make my rounds through the gaming salons and see if I can track down Mr. Fergusson.”
We parted ways, and I wove my way through the crowd, skirting the edge of the dance floor. The wood gleamed underneath the light of the bright chandeliers, and the gold filigree adorning the two cornices that circled the ceiling fairly sparkled. The fast-driving music of a mazurka had just begun when I reached Lord and Lady Strathblane’s side.
They greeted me amiably and asked after Alana and the children’s health. From the ease of their manner, I guessed they had not heard about Bonnie Brock’s abduction of Philip’s carriage and me from the theater, and I decided not to enlighten them. Not when there was no reason to alarm them. No harm had been done, at least to me. And Gage’s foolhardiness could not be laid at their feet.
When I broached the topic with the viscount that I’d approached them to discuss, he nodded his head readily. “Yes. Of course. Cromarty wrote to tell me you might have some questions for me. What can I do?”
“You know that I’m assisting Mr. Gage with a rather sensitive investigation,” I moved closer to say, turning to face outward with the wall at my back, lest someone approach from behind and catch me by surprise.
“Yes. I had heard.”