“He has a reputation for that?”
“At every event he attends. And it’s been worse lately. Merville says the rumor around the City is he’s completely broke, and you know how expensive a season is.” She looked at me down her long nose. “Well, I guess you don’t.”
I did know how much Miss Daisy wanted another two seasons. Poor Hancock. He couldn’t be blackmailed by Drake, not if he didn’t have any money and his niece was demanding more frocks for parties.
Voices nearby nearly made me miss her next words. “I’m sorry?”
“He’s going to miss Waxpool. The earl is dying.”
I glanced in the direction Lady Merville was looking. “Is that Price dressed as the angel of death?”
“His manservant. Yes. It suits him, don’t you think?”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s been with Waxpool for a generation, and these days has to travel with that frail old man everywhere. Tonight I saw him without his mask outside when we arrived. Quite a clever costume.”
I thought it was creepy, especially since Waxpool was supposedly close to death. “What will happen to the title when Waxpool dies?”
Lady Merville pursed her lips. “The son won’t receive a Writ of Summons from the queen to take his seat in the House of Lords if a warrant is issued for his arrest. Of course, no one in our class will say a word against him.” She sniffed. “But you never know what persons of the lower orders might do with the right evidence. If word gets out, it’ll be a juicy scandal and the queen will be forced to ignore him. In older times, the monarch took away titles from nobles he didn’t like, but that was usually for insurrection.”
The servant’s scythe glittered with reflected light as he disappeared into the crowd. “Why is Price here?”
The lady shook her bewigged head gently.
I moved on, uneasy since I guessed Price was there to find Drake. Waxpool couldn’t act on his own, but I could imagine the orders he might have given his manservant. I glanced around, hoping to see Blackford or Drake and warn them.
Emma was dancing again, this time with a dandy dressed like Voltaire. How the man waltzed while balancing a flowing powdered wig and with a half mask blocking his vision, I couldn’t guess. They made a graceful pair, and I noticed the wizard and Henry VIII watching them as closely as I. I was surprised the wizard hadn’t asked her to dance yet. Maybe the Frenchman had beaten him to Emma’s side. Her beauty was difficult to ignore.
I continued my circuit of the room. The music changed, and I saw Emma dancing with Henry VIII again. When I stopped and looked around, I heard a smooth male voice in my ear. “Let’s go out into the garden, Miss Fenchurch.”
I spun around and found myself facing a black half mask and a tall, white wig. Looking down, I saw pale blue knee breeches and black shoes with silver buckles. There were a half dozen identical costumes at this ball. “Who are you, and what have you done with Marie Antoinette?”
“Unlike her, I’m trying not to lose my head. Nicholas Drake, at your service.” He gave me as much of a bow as he could manage with bodies squishing us from all directions and his wig threatening to topple off his head.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I’d like to say it was a brilliant deduction, but the Duke of Blackford told me what you would wear. I wanted you here to assure my safety.”
I’d never been in a situation where I was less able to assure his well-being. All I had was a ceremonial dagger, and we were being pushed on from every direction. “Why have you come here? There must be safer places for you to hide.”
“I received a tempting proposition from the Duke of Blackford. This seemed the safest place for us to negotiate. He arranged for my invitation.” Even with his mouth next to my ear, I had to guess at every other word.
My suspicions of the duke intensified. “What proposition?” I found I was nearly bellowing in Drake’s ear to be heard.
“We can’t talk in here. Let’s go out in the garden.”
I trusted Drake almost as much as I trusted the Duke of Blackford. Putting a hand over my dagger, I nodded and followed him outside.
The veranda near the doors was well lit with gas lamps. The music and the laughter from inside poured over us. The garden beyond was a mass of shadows cast by hanging lanterns and thick bushes. While this dark area would be a great place for a tryst, it wouldn’t be good for a business meeting. Or preventing an attack.
Drake nodded his head toward the garden. “That way. It’s too loud and public here.”
“And much safer.”