Chapter Five
Most the debutante’s fathers spent their evenings in the well-lit card room in their host’s home, and that’s where Adam found Boiselle. Uncertain if the actor knew who he was, Adam strolled the room behind his back while attempting to identify the other players. They were the usual cast of bored fathers and brothers. Was one of them the spy’s connection, or was he simply passing time? There was no way of knowing what had taken place while Adam was distracted by Miss Watson, so he might have missed his chance of finding another piece to the puzzle.
That didn’t keep him from remaining close to Boiselle. He strolled out of the room, and upon making certain the hallway was clear, he took up a position in the shadows where he could see the spy’s seat. He lit a cheroot to look as though he had a reason to be there, and settled in to wait.
Just as he grew board, Miss Watson came down the hallway. Her face lit when she saw Adam. “My lord, I didn’t expect to find you here.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “And whom did you expect?” Was she in search of her partner for an assignation? He hadn’t taken her for the type to do so.
“No one, silly. I’m avoiding everyone. If I must listen to one more ode to my lavender eyes—they’re hazel, by the way, in case you’ve been composing your own ditty—I will go mad.”
He glanced askance her way before looking back at the spy. “It’s not safe for a young lady to wander the house alone. One of those poets might have followed you.”
She pressed her gloved hand to her bosom, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. “For their sake, I hope not. My patience has been spent. They don’t deserve what words might escape me.”
Adam had to laugh. She was certainly a character, and as beautiful as those poets likely claimed. Her hairstyle was softer tonight, no curls dancing free. Pale pink flowers, which matched those embroidered on her gown, were sprinkled into the waves. Those hazel eyes that drew such attention her way sparkled. She was a minx. “Why do I think your father’s patience has grown equally thin?”
She surprised him when a delicate shade of rose warmed her cheeks. “Yes. He’s close to sending me to my grandfather’s home in the country to care for my young cousins.”
“Why do you continue to refuse the attention paid to you, if you know you must marry soon?”
Meeting his gaze directly, she said, “I can’t pretend something I don’t feel. I won’t give them hope for an attachment on my part when it will never happen.”
She continued to watch him closely, as if looking for his reaction. Where he might call some young ladies foolish for such a statement, he respected Miss Watson’s honesty. “When you do marry, your husband will have to work hard to deserve you.”
He turned to watch Boiselle, but his attention remained on the woman at his side. She looked to be in her early twenties, certainly not on the shelf, but she must have been out in Society for several years. Such a character she was. Far too pretty to spend her life alone, and far too stubborn to settle for less than she wanted. She might be useful in Adam’s need to blend in with the haute ton. “What brings you to wander the halls, aside from avoiding those lotharios, of course? What excuse did you give?”
“I seek the ladies’ retiring room, or so Mrs. Harrow thinks. I planned to visit the library for an hour before returning.”
“Is the library nearby?”
She smiled, quite proud of herself. “I have no idea. Puzzling out what you were up to sounded much more intriguing. Now, what are you doing here?”
Adam heard chairs sliding in the card room, and saw Boiselle approaching the doorway. Without thinking, he took Miss Watson by the shoulders and kissed her soundly. She remained stiff in his arms, yet her lips were soft and pliable. And sweet, he noticed just before inhaling a soft scent of lavender. Panic set in and he let her go.
Boiselle turned toward the staircase up to the ballroom. Adam needed to follow.
“That was certainly not the answer I expected,” Miss Watson said.
He was relieved she hadn’t read more into the kiss than it was. “It seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.”
“The moment our friend might recognize us?”
He slanted her a glance, then moved away from her. She was far too perceptive. For the first time, he wondered if she might be the connection to Boiselle Adam sought. If so, he needed to keep her close. If not, she was too tempting a distraction. Could he take the risk? Should he? This bore more thought than he had time for.
“Precisely,” he answered, bowing his head and following Boiselle, with no apology for the kiss.
Miss Watson boldly took his arm. “An intrigue. Now I’m certain you have no interest in acting.”
Every remaining hope of her being the perfect cover vanished. “Allow me to return you to Mrs. Harrow. She must be worried about your health, being away so long.”
“Must you? You haven’t given me any answers. I promise not to tell anyone—not even Charlotte, although she’s as discrete as anyone we might need assistance from.”
Having entered the ballroom where they pressed between couples and small groups, Adam was determined to stop her before anyone overheard. “I need no assistance. It must be time for my dance with Miss Harrow. I thank you for a most…unusual…distraction.”
Adam was correct about the timing. Mrs. Harrow squinted her frustration when he approached with Miss Watson on his arm. Ignoring her, he smiled at Miss Harrow. “I believe this is our dance.”
Leading Miss Watson’s friend into the space cleared for dancing, he reverted to polite conversation.
Miss Harrow was having none of it. “How curious Miss Watson left alone and returned with you. One might suspect an assignation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know your friend better than I do. She’d never do such a thing.”
Her eyes widened, her rosy lips parting before she schooled her expression. “And you know her better than I would imagine for such a short acquaintance. Or are there some other activities he hasn’t mentioned?”
“She’s outspoken, presents her opinions quite plainly. One need only know her a few moments to understand her.” He left her to take the arm of the other woman in their set.
When Miss Harrow met him again, she said, “To my knowledge, she’s never told a man such unless he tried to seduce her.”
“Then that proves there’s no attraction between us. She doesn’t treat me as an enamored sap. She can speak honestly with no fear of damaging me.”
Charlotte laughed and waited until they connected again in the steps. “I agree. She must feel differently about you, but not in the way you profess. She trusts you. I look forward to seeing where your friendship goes.”
Adam needed to rethink seeking Miss Watson’s assistance any further. If her best friend suspected something more lay between them, there could be trouble ahead.