* *
“This
is his brilliant plan?” Alasdair groaned under his breath to Roger the
following night. They were at Hil’s again, but not alone. Half of Mayfair was
there with them, drinking Hil’s champagne and eating hors d’oeuvres. “We will
never find her here. This is folly. She cannot possibly be one of these
ladies.” The two men were standing near Hil just inside the door of his
townhouse, watching as Hil and his aunt Gertrude welcomed his guests. Hil’s
aunt was indeed very sweet and Alasdair felt guilty for laughing yesterday on
Bond Street.
“What
I want to know is how Hil got all these people to attend on such short notice,”
Roger said. “This time of year most people have an engagement every evening,
many planned well in advance. And yet he sends out a spur-of-the-moment
invitation and it appears as if everyone dropped everything to come. I’m
expecting Prinny to walk through the door any moment.”
“The
Prince Regent will most likely not show,” Alasdair told him. “He and Hil had
some sort of falling out after Hil was knighted.” On Hil’s behalf, he resented
the gawking throng that had shown up tonight. They were treating Hil more like
an oddity at the fair than their elegant host. “He is Sir Hilary St. John. He’s
an enigma. A rake, a scholar, a patron of the Royal Society, an eligible
bachelor, a figure of great renown and even greater mystery. How could anyone
turn down a coveted invitation to see the lion in his den?” Alasdair was only
half-joking.
“There
is also the fact that he is an eligible bachelor,” Roger mused. “Every single
person here is either an unmarried girl, related to an unmarried girl, or chaperoning
an unmarried girl. I’d say Hil’s bachelor state and his income have more to do
with the guest list than anything else.”
Alasdair
snorted. “Are we so cynical then?” he asked rhetorically. “For I believe that
you are right.”
Roger
gave him a wry look. “It’s not cynicism, it’s self-defense.”
After
welcoming the last of his guests, Hil turned to Alasdair and said, “Come,
Sharp, let us go around and greet our guests.” He bowed over his aunt’s hand.
“You have done me a great service, Auntie, and I am in your debt.” She smiled
at him benignly and waved him off, turning to greet an older woman who hailed
her across the hall.
“Didn’t
you already greet your guests?” Roger asked curiously as he followed them into
the drawing room.
“Not
in any great depth.” Hil surveyed the room as if searching for someone, and
steered them into the thick of the crowd. “Now we must remember the clues and
use all our skills to detect if Alasdair’s thief is here with us tonight.”
“Is
he going to seduce every girl here?” Roger asked in amusement.
An
older woman overheard them and gasped, yanking the arm of her young charge and leading
the protesting girl quickly away from them. Alasdair sighed. He was quite sure
that between his behavior on Bond Street yesterday and that little on dit his already-tarnished reputation
had received irreparable harm over the past two days.
“I
certainly hope not,” Hil replied. “The effort would no doubt render him ill and
he would be unable to retrieve the pearl when we ascertain its whereabouts.”
“Thank
you for your concern,” Alasdair said drily. “I shall try to refrain from any
unwarranted seductions this evening in order to keep up my strength.”
“Very
good. But if you feel that one is warranted in order to identify your thief,
simply give us the signal and we shall disguise your intent.”
“What?”
Alasdair exclaimed. “You don’t actually expect me to compromise someone in
order to determine if she is my Juliet, do you?”
“I
should certainly hope not,” a stentorian voice proclaimed next to him.
Alasdair
winced as he turned to see a distinguished older gentleman glaring at him,
standing in front of what was obviously his innocent
“This
is his brilliant plan?” Alasdair groaned under his breath to Roger the
following night. They were at Hil’s again, but not alone. Half of Mayfair was
there with them, drinking Hil’s champagne and eating hors d’oeuvres. “We will
never find her here. This is folly. She cannot possibly be one of these
ladies.” The two men were standing near Hil just inside the door of his
townhouse, watching as Hil and his aunt Gertrude welcomed his guests. Hil’s
aunt was indeed very sweet and Alasdair felt guilty for laughing yesterday on
Bond Street.
“What
I want to know is how Hil got all these people to attend on such short notice,”
Roger said. “This time of year most people have an engagement every evening,
many planned well in advance. And yet he sends out a spur-of-the-moment
invitation and it appears as if everyone dropped everything to come. I’m
expecting Prinny to walk through the door any moment.”
“The
Prince Regent will most likely not show,” Alasdair told him. “He and Hil had
some sort of falling out after Hil was knighted.” On Hil’s behalf, he resented
the gawking throng that had shown up tonight. They were treating Hil more like
an oddity at the fair than their elegant host. “He is Sir Hilary St. John. He’s
an enigma. A rake, a scholar, a patron of the Royal Society, an eligible
bachelor, a figure of great renown and even greater mystery. How could anyone
turn down a coveted invitation to see the lion in his den?” Alasdair was only
half-joking.
“There
is also the fact that he is an eligible bachelor,” Roger mused. “Every single
person here is either an unmarried girl, related to an unmarried girl, or chaperoning
an unmarried girl. I’d say Hil’s bachelor state and his income have more to do
with the guest list than anything else.”
Alasdair
snorted. “Are we so cynical then?” he asked rhetorically. “For I believe that
you are right.”
Roger
gave him a wry look. “It’s not cynicism, it’s self-defense.”
After
welcoming the last of his guests, Hil turned to Alasdair and said, “Come,
Sharp, let us go around and greet our guests.” He bowed over his aunt’s hand.
“You have done me a great service, Auntie, and I am in your debt.” She smiled
at him benignly and waved him off, turning to greet an older woman who hailed
her across the hall.
“Didn’t
you already greet your guests?” Roger asked curiously as he followed them into
the drawing room.
“Not
in any great depth.” Hil surveyed the room as if searching for someone, and
steered them into the thick of the crowd. “Now we must remember the clues and
use all our skills to detect if Alasdair’s thief is here with us tonight.”
“Is
he going to seduce every girl here?” Roger asked in amusement.
An
older woman overheard them and gasped, yanking the arm of her young charge and leading
the protesting girl quickly away from them. Alasdair sighed. He was quite sure
that between his behavior on Bond Street yesterday and that little on dit his already-tarnished reputation
had received irreparable harm over the past two days.
“I
certainly hope not,” Hil replied. “The effort would no doubt render him ill and
he would be unable to retrieve the pearl when we ascertain its whereabouts.”
“Thank
you for your concern,” Alasdair said drily. “I shall try to refrain from any
unwarranted seductions this evening in order to keep up my strength.”
“Very
good. But if you feel that one is warranted in order to identify your thief,
simply give us the signal and we shall disguise your intent.”
“What?”
Alasdair exclaimed. “You don’t actually expect me to compromise someone in
order to determine if she is my Juliet, do you?”
“I
should certainly hope not,” a stentorian voice proclaimed next to him.
Alasdair
winced as he turned to see a distinguished older gentleman glaring at him,
standing in front of what was obviously his innocent
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