voice rang out over the rumble of conversation.
They made their way down the stairs. Dante picked out quite a few of the gentlemen he knew as patrons of the Rose Room. He honestly did not pay attention to the women since he was now in investigation mode. But alas, once they reached the ballroom floor two women approached him.
He never thought he would reach a point in his life when women approaching him became a nuisance. That, however, was precisely how he felt. He grabbed Lydia’s wrist. “Let me see your dance card.”
He quickly filled in three spaces. Two waltzes and one quadrille. She took the card from his hand and gasped. “You cannot have three dances. That would be scandalous.”
“Then we shall walk the perimeter of the room during one of them. I just don’t want to spend all night dancing. We have a job to do.”
“Dante, dear. Please say you’ve saved a waltz for me.” Miss Adelina Grayson held her card out as did her sister, Miss Grayson.”
He bowed and took the cards, filled them in—no waltzes since his were already taken—and before they could start their eyelid flapping and giggling, he grasped Lydia’s arm. “I think I could use some champagne.” He left the two women and four others gaping as he walked away with Lydia on his arm.
“I’m beginning to think having you escort me to these events so we can conduct an investigation is not going to work,” Lydia said.
“It will work, my sweet. We just need to keep ourselves busy, walking, dancing, and visiting the refreshment table.” He steered Lydia toward the table against the wall filled with the warm ratafia and lemonade.
Luckily, on their way, he was able to grab two glasses of champagne from a footman’s tray and passed one to Lydia. She took one sip and looking over his shoulder, her eyes grew wide. “Ambassador. What a pleasure to see you tonight.”
Dante turned and looked into the eyes of the man they’d been searching for. A man who was stealing secrets from England and passing them along to Germany. Tall and robust to the point of straining his jacket buttons, the man irritated him with how his dark dangerous eyes looked Lydia up and down, the lust on his face unmistakable.
“Good evening, Miss Sanford. You look lovely, as always.”
Lydia gestured to the man. “Ambassador Schulze, may I present to you Mr. Dante Rose.” Dante extended his hand, which the ambassador accepted. “Ambassador. It is a pleasure to meet you outside of the club.”
And keep your lustful eyes off Lydia.
5
Lydia cringed as the Ambassador took her hand in his and kissed the back. She quelled the desire to wipe it off and was grateful she wore gloves. She’d never spent much time in the man’s company and decided the worst part of this assignment was not dealing with Dante, but with having to insert herself into the Ambassador’s presence until they could discover the traitor passing information to him.
“My dear, you must honor me with a dance.” The Ambassador reached for her dance card. Studying it for a minute, he said, “Oh, my good man,” he glanced at Dante, “you cannot deprive the rest of us from waltzing with this fascinating young lady by taking up both waltzes.”
Lydia had not looked closely at her dance card but was happy to note that of the three dances Dante had filled in, he’d claimed the two waltzes. She answered in relief, “I am so sorry, Ambassador, perhaps one of the quadrilles?”
He shrugged. “If I must.” He sounded generally annoyed as he took the small pencil dangling from the dance card and filled in his name. This was obviously a man who controlled his world quite well and was not happy when things did not go his way.
She was torn between asking Dante to give up one of his waltzes in the name of the Home Office, or not, since she didn’t particularly want to spend twenty minutes that close to the Ambassador.
Before she could decide, he offered a slight bow. “I must take your leave now, as there are people I must speak with. I will return for our dance.” He had the nerve to once again stare at her in such a way that made her skin break into gooseflesh.
Lydia ran her palms up and down her arms. “I don’t like that man.”
Dante took her arm. “That makes two of us. We must keep our eyes on him without seeming to. I suggest a stroll around the room in the direction he is headed.”
They were stopped several times by women wanting Dante to put his name on their dance cards. It seemed every woman who approached them was looking for a waltz. Lydia had reached the point where she found their forwardness amusing. These women seemed almost desperate when Dante did not encourage them. And for that she was grateful.
Another amusing note were the number of gentlemen who requested dances from her. Not that she’d ever been a wallflower, but rarely was her dance card filled for the night as the years passed, and she remained single. Tonight, every dance was spoken for.
Perhaps her escort had something to do with it. Men’s need to compete.
“It appears you are popular with the gentlemen, Lydia.” Dante placed his hand on her lower back and steered her toward the wall where bottles of champagne were being poured into slim crystal glasses.
She grinned as they wove their way through the crowded room. “I have never been a wallflower, but over the years the requests for a dance did dwindle.”
“Ah, the gentlemen learned you had no interest in pursuing a husband?”
Lydia shrugged as she took the glass of champagne from his hand. “Perhaps. Not all gentlemen are interested in marriage.” She waved her glass in his direction. “However, as I grew beyond the blushing debutante age, the gentlemen were more interested in a dalliance.”