A Dash of Scandal(32)
And he had fallen for it. Hard.
Chandler shook his head. He didn’t know if he had ever been so charmed by a young lady who seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever.
He walked closer to her as he greeted friends and acquaintances in the crowded room. She was nodding, listening intently to the lady who was speaking to her. She looked sweet and pure, as if only thoughtful and congenial things would come out of her mouth, but he knew without a doubt that she could be direct or difficult, whichever suited her purpose.
Over the years, many young ladies and his mistresses, too, had excited him, but there was something different about Miss Millicent Blair.
Never had he met a lady so enchanting and so clever in avoiding his questions. Was she playing him in hopes of getting him to ask for her hand or was she truly not interested in him? Could it be that his reputation was so marred by his youthful indiscretions that now that he was interested in a proper young lady she feared he would only trifle with her affections?
She had been surprised to see him in the garden today, but she hadn’t been angry. He liked that about her. And she was very slow in rebuffing his attentions, allowing him two kisses before she retreated. Obviously she was not afraid of him.
He wondered why she was so secretive about her family. That certainly put credence to what Andrew had said about her being from a poor family and only being interested in making a wealthy match. It wasn’t unusual for a lovely country girl to come to Town hoping some young buck would become besotted with her before he probed too deeply into her family’s background. If that was the case, it was no wonder she wasn’t interested in him. Anyone in Society could tell her that he had never given serious consideration to marrying any young lady.
Chandler’s intuition was usually sharp, and he had a gut feeling that there was more to Miss Blair than simply looking for a suitable match. But what?
A gentleman Chandler had never seen before caught his attention, and he let his gaze stay where the fellow lounged near the front door. Suddenly Chandler’s senses went on alert.
The man was properly dressed in evening attire like every other gentleman at the party but something about the man made him appear uncomfortable and out of place. This was just the sort of fellow he suspected the Mad Ton Thief to be, a man who obviously knew how to dress like a gentleman but didn’t look at ease being one.
Chandler decided to walk over and present himself to the man and find out who he was. He turned back for a quick glance at Miss Blair.
He liked the way she remained serene and gave her complete attention to the ladies. Her eyes didn’t search the room looking for a distraction or a reason to move on to someone else. That was an admirable quality. He had decided a couple of nights ago there were too many things to like about that intriguing young lady without adding more to the list.
“Good evening, sir,” Chandler said as he approached the gentleman. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Chandler Prestwick, the earl of Dunraven.”
The tall, sturdily built man bowed graciously, then said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Dunraven. I’m William Hogarth, in the employ of Mr. Percy Doulton. We’re here watching for suspicious-looking characters.”
Chandler smiled to himself. Hogarth was the suspicious-looking character.
“Good. I’m glad to see Doulton acted promptly in securing men to be available at the parties.”
“Yes, sir. He went right to work on that. There are two of us at several of the homes where there are more than fifty guests attending this evening.”
Chandler was impressed at how quickly Doulton had acted and that there were so many new men added on such short notice.
“Have you seen anyone or anything out of the ordinary?” Chandler asked.
“My partner and I have everything under control. He’s watching the rooms where the guests are, and I’m looking over everyone who leaves by this door. If a gentleman tries to walk out with anything bulging from his pocket or his coat, I have orders to politely stop him and search him.”
“Thank you, Hogarth. It seems like you are handling everything adequately.”
Chandler nodded to the man and started to take his leave.
A feather brushed across the back of his neck and, before he could turn around, he caught sight of a woman from the corner of his eye as Lady Lambsbeth stood before him. A chill of warning flashed down his back.
Chandler folded his arms across his chest and said, “Lady MacBeth—” he cleared his throat and irreverently added, “That is to say, Lady Lambsbeth.”