Chapter Seven
Adam had followed Boiselle into the ballroom, but then lost sight of him. Wandering, he searched through the faces of all the portly men in the room. He’d given up looking for Miss Watson, assuming her family had retired to the country, since she wasn’t at any assembly he’d attended recently.
Then he heard her voice. Turning, he saw her and Miss Harrow strolling as though they had not a thought on their minds. He suspected the opposite was true. While neither of the ladies looked at him, he was certain he was their target.
Miss Watson gave a surprised gasp when her gaze met his. “How delightful to find you here.”
“Miss Watson, Miss Harrow. You both are well?”
“Quite well,” Miss Harrow said. Her smug smile hid a secret.
“As am I,” he responded. He waited a moment to see if Miss Watson would reveal her intent.
“Have you been to the theatre recently? I gave up my position assisting Miss Clarke, so I haven’t heard any news. Did it close as scheduled?”
“It has, to excellent reviews, I think.” He knew this wasn’t her intent. She wanted something more.
As boldly as hi expected, she said, “Our dance cards have many blank lines. Are you able to fill one?”
Still not her true pursuit. He smiled, enjoying the game. How long must he wait for her to speak? The musicians warmed their instruments, calling the dancers. “I would love to stand up with each of you. Who first?”
“You go, Mary Jane,” Miss Harrow said. “I’ll wait with our mothers.”
Miss Watson smiled brightly up at him. “I must confess I’ve missed you.”
He slanted her a glance. “As much as the theatre?”
“Well…”
They both laughed, and Adam realized how comfortable he felt beside her. “We must have received different invitations.”
“It’s likely I received just as many, but my father discovered how I spent my time and my entertainments were curtailed.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“And here I am.” She looked down, her smile fading for a moment. “He’s determined to see me married.”
His gut tightened at the idea he wouldn’t enjoy her wild imaginings any more. His work would become even more dull without the prospect of her chatter. “You don’t wish to marry?”
“No. Not now, at least. I’m trying to resign myself to it, pretending there’s such a man out there who’d allow me to continue to enjoy myself.”
“Why can’t you enjoy being married? It’s not a prison.”
“If my husband has the same image of a wife as my father, I might as well be leg-shackled.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I thought only men felt that way. Find one of those gentlemen and you’ll be happy to allow each other your freedom.”
The music began, a beautiful waltz, and Adam enjoyed taking her in his arms. The subject of marriage behind them, he felt intently her gloved hand on his arm, as well as the cloud of sweet fragrance surrounding them. She was taller than most women, but still fit beneath his chin. Light on her feet, she moved with grace, flowing rather than stepping on the marble tile floor. For the length of the song he could pretend he wasn’t sworn to serve his King, and had the freedom to marry. She’d be the perfect woman for him, once he was free to consider it.
There were enough people who’d feel his loss deeply, should he be killed, and he wouldn’t add a wife to the list. Of course, that meant she’d become some other man’s wife, but that was the only considerate thing he could do. So, he ignored her thinly veiled hints and enjoyed having her close.
When the waltz ended, Adam kept her hand on his arm, strolling the long way toward her mother. He’d neglected to keep Boiselle in his sights while he danced, and had no inkling where the man was.
Adam’s superiors would threaten every punishment short of a court martial if they knew how sloppy his surveillance had become since meeting Miss Watson. If this job wasn’t so personal, he’d ask to be reassigned somewhere he could keep his mind on his work.
Patting her hand, he asked, “Does Miss Harrow have the same threat hovering over her Season?”
“No, she wasn’t the one acting so foolishly; she only kept my secret.”
“So you admit now you took risks being there? Leaving alone in the early hours of the morning?”
“Not you, too.” She sighed, one side of her mouth pulling back. “I was certain you, of all people, would understand.”
“What I understand is how dangerous the city is for young women.” He spoke softly, doing everything he could to give no appearance of lecturing her.
“My only hope is finding a husband who enjoys the same activities.”
Adam suddenly heard the creak of a trap ready to spring. “That can’t be too difficult. Miss Harrow has a brother, doesn’t she? He’d surely understand and be willing to compromise.”
She shook her head. “He’s only interested in horses, like all of our Lumley cousins.”
Catching sight of Boiselle’s bald pate, Adam quickened their pace, not paying attention to anything Miss Watson said. The spy had a woman on his arm, and they walked out on the brightly lit terrace.
“Let’s take in some fresh air.” Adam quickened their pace to prevent losing sight of Boiselle again.
“How delightful,” Miss Watson said. “The garden here is said to be superb.”
It might have been so, but he wasn’t paying attention. Boiselle was disappearing down a sheltered path. Lanterns hung from the trees, providing a romantic setting, but that wasn’t on Adam’s mind. He forced himself to walk slowly enough for Miss Watson to keep pace.
It did occur to him how she might perceive being taken into the secluded area, but other couples also strolled the path, so he wasn’t compromising her reputation. Still, she could very easily mistake this for a seduction that would lead to a proposal. He must make his position clear. “I promise not to keep you away long enough to detract from your search for a husband.”
“I’d much rather be with you.”
That trap creaked again. “I must be honest. I’m not in a position to marry. Your time would be better spent on others. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy your company,” he quickly added.
“We do get on well, don’t we?”
Boiselle and his companion continued past the last of the lanterns, into the shadows. Adam hesitated. If any meeting was to take place, this would be the perfect spot. He and Miss Watson followed.
He felt the tension in her body shift when she caught on to their pursuit. “We’re following Mr. Tilney and his lady-love, aren’t we? A scheme is afoot!”
“Shh. He mustn’t know we’re here.”
“Of course.” She moved so stealthily, Adam couldn’t hear her steps. He bit back a smile.
He didn’t hear steps in front of them, either, so he stopped, listening for conversation. The only sounds came from behind them, toward the house. Then he heard the rustling of a bush and the moonlight flashed on a woman’s pale gown.
In an instant, Adam had Miss Watson in his arms and was kissing her soundly. Her lips moved hesitantly beneath his, and her sigh was quite audible. She was more perfect than he remembered—and more distracted. He lifted his head and looked down the path. Boiselle was gone.
“I suppose if I want another kiss, I must ask Mr. Tilney to appear?” Her voice held restrained laughter.
Adam chuckled. “You’ll have to ask your husband. Let’s go inside before your father sends for a special license.”
Holding his arm, Miss Watson rested her head playfully on his arm. “Would that be such a horrid thing?”
Despite himself, and all the reasons he knew he couldn’t marry her, he couldn’t insist it would be horrid.