“Tell me about your Mr. Sheldon.”
Like the rest of society, Georgina had no idea Randolph Sheldon was in hiding. Or that he was a suspect in the Drury Lane Theatre's lead actress's murder. Evelyn wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible.
That is, until Bow Street Runners found Randolph and gave her no choice.
“Randolph is away researching a subject for my father,” Evelyn lied smoothly.
“You must miss him then?”
The innocent question stopped Evelyn for a moment. If she was truthful to herself, she didn't miss Randolph as much as she would have thought.
Before the murder, they had routinely conversed in the evenings when Randolph stopped by to speak with her father. Other days, she had visited her father's offices in Oxford when she knew Randolph was present. Oftentimes, Randolph was grading papers or researching a topic for her father. They had spent countless hours together talking, poring over volumes in the university library, working side by side.
Evelyn was concerned for Randolph, yes. His situation was constantly on her mind, yes.
But did she miss him? Truly miss him?
No.
Georgina was looking at her curiously. “Is something wrong, Evelyn?”
“I ahâ”
“There is another man,” Georgina said matter-of-factly.
“Not in the way that you mean,” Evelyn said.
Georgina placed her teacup in her saucer and leaned forward. “Tell me.”
“I came today to ask a favor. I want to ensure a certain man is on the guest list for your mother's costume ball.”
“Name him and I will have an invitation immediately sent out if it hasn't been already.”
“A Mr. Jack Hardingâ”
“The barrister and jury master?” Georgina asked.
“Yes, how did you know?”
Georgina waved a hand. “Rest assured he's on the guest list. If he has not already received it, his invitation should arrive any moment. He gets invited to all the
ton
functions, you see, but he rarely attends. Apparently he is extremely busy. But he is in favor with the
beau monde
âhe has aided a few in legal matters. Any society matron would be thrilled to have him in attendance. It seems his chosen discipline has been quite lucrative.”
Evelyn frowned. Jack was not the money-grasping barrister she had initially believed. An image of Hannah Ware and her clinging children came to mindâlike six small starving street urchins desperate for their next meal. Their mother would have been executed, lost to them forever, if not for Jack's volunteered services.
Jack was proving to be a complex man.
“If Mr. Harding rarely attends that would explain why I haven't seen him at past functions,” Evelyn said.
“Other barristers of his chambers are invited as well because they have curried favor with my father,” Georgina added.
Interesting,
Evelyn thought. What types of favors would a viscount require of three other barristers?
Had Maxwell Stanford been involved in troublesome behavior in the past? Evelyn wondered.
“Why are you interested in Mr. Harding?” Georgina asked. “Has he caught your eye?”
“No,” Evelyn answered quickly. “Absolutely not.”
Georgina eyed her curiously. “He is a handsome man. It wouldn't be unusual if youâ”
“No, you are mistaken. It's not that at all. Father is interested in having Mr. Harding as a guest lecturer at Oxford. I thought to help him.” The lie came too easily to Evelyn's lips.
“Then why doesn't your father speak with him?”
“He has. He will. I thought to as well,” Evelyn rushed.
“I see,” Georgina said in a tone that implied she didn't believe her one bit. “Do not be too hard on yourself, Evelyn. Mary Wollstonecraft says a woman needs to explore all aspects of her inner selfâeven the sensual sideâin order to find the freedom to be truly happy.”
Chapter 19
“Cleopatra was an excellent choice. I do believe your barrister will be struck dumb.”
Evelyn whirled around to see Lady Georgina. Her friend smiled slyly, and her hazel eyes shone behind her half mask. She had indeed dressed as Diana, Goddess of the Hunt, but thankfully, her white tunic covered
both
breasts. Strapped to her back was a dainty bow and quiver of golden arrows.
Evelyn returned Georgina's smile. “He's not
my
barrister, Georgina, but an acquaintance. And it's not me that has to be on guard. With your bow and arrows, you look quite like Cupid. Lucas Crawford best be wary.”
“Ha!” Georgina laughed. “Dressed as you are, every man in attendance will be looking at you and trying to discern your identity when the arrow hits them. You look stunning, Evelyn.”
Evelyn felt a thrill of excitement at the compliment. She
had
dressed with care tonight. She wore a sheath dress of gold tissue with a low bodice. Without a restraining corset and the heavy, voluminous skirts of a traditional ball gown, the dress felt as light as air. Thong sandals laced up her daringly bare ankles. Gold serpent bands with emerald eyes wrapped around each of her upper arms. She had contemplated wearing a wig of straight black hair, but at the last minute had chose instead to style her own hair. A jeweled headband with emeralds that matched the eyes of the serpent bands held her hair while the rest cascaded down her back in a platinum waterfall. A sequined, gold half mask hid her identity, making her feel bold and brazen. Had Evelyn not told her friend she was to dress as Cleopatra, Georgina would scarcely have recognized her.
Evelyn knew she looked attractive, and she admitted to herself that she wanted Jack Harding to see her this way, wanted him to look upon her as a beautiful woman and not just as the scholarly child who had followed him around conjugating Latin and Greek verbs.
Don't be reckless,
her inner voice warned.
Such an attraction is perilous.
“Do you know what costume your barrister is wearing?” Georgina asked.
Evelyn scanned the crowded ballroom and the masked guests. “I have no idea. And he's not my barrister.”
Two giggling women, one dressed as a shepherdess and the other as an angel, held the arms of a portly man dressed as Henry the Eighth. The trio stumbled, then pushed past Evelyn and Georgina.
“There is such a crush. It will be difficult to find anyone tonight,” Georgina said.
Normal etiquette required the announcing of the guests by the Hamilton staff, but tonight was a masquerade ball, and that formality did not apply. A charge of mystery and excitement hummed through the ballroom. The guests' costumes were extravagant, and many had taken great pains to hide their identities. Every area of the globe seemed to be represented, from Arabian sheiks and harem girls, to Chinese monks, to medieval knights and their ladies.
Liveried servants wove through the crowd, passing out flutes of bubbling champagne as the guests mingled in an orgy of self-indulgence. Behind masks, eyes glittered with lustful intentâsearching for partners with similar dissolute plans to indulge their own guilty pleasures while remaining blissfully anonymous.
The entire ballroom was a kaleidoscope of brilliant color and flickering lights. Combined with the laughter and music, it amplified Evelyn's senses.
Just then a pair of strong hands encircled Evelyn's waist from behind and boldly lifted her up to stand on a wooden chair beside her.
“A queen deserves to be up on a throne,” a masculine voice said.
Evelyn gasped as she looked down on Jack. Dressed as a pirate, he wore black from his gleaming boots to his plumed hat. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his bronzed throat and a sprinkling of dark hair. A sword and eye patch completed his look.
Evelyn recalled another time she had thought Jack the perfect pirate. In the dim back alley behind the Drury Lane Theatre, Jack had been dressed entirely in black. He had looked like a dashing, but dangerous pirate then as well.
“Dear Lord, Jack. You scared me half to death,” Evelyn said.
She realized her slip with formality as soon as his Christian name left her lips. Evelyn looked to Georgina who no doubt would believe her prior assumptions that Jack was
her
barrister were true.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Evelyn stepped down from the chair.
“May I introduce Lady Georgina Stanford.” Motioning to Jack, Evelyn said, “This is Mr. Harding.”
Jack swept off his hat and bowed formally. “A pleasure, Lady Stanford.”
Georgina smiled charmingly. “Formal introductions are not necessary tonight, Mr. Harding. Mother believes it will add to the fun if her guests pretend anonymity, but I am pleased to meet you.”
“Your mother is wise. But pray tell me, rumors abound that she knows what costumes her guests selected before tonight and that she knows every guests' identity behind their masks. Is it true?”
“You can ask her for yourself, Mr. Harding. She approaches with my father as we speak. Pardon my early escape, however, before my mother can barrage me with questions about a particular guest.” Georgina curtsied and hurried away.
Evelyn turned as a couple came forward.
Lady Cecilia, Viscountess Hamilton, was dressed as Queen Elizabeth, complete with neck ruff, voluminous skirts, white-powdered face, and towering red wigâa formidable presence, much like the queen she imitated. A renowned
ton
hostess, Cecilia took her annual masquerade quite seriously.
Maxwell Stanford, on the other hand, had not bothered with a costume. In his late fifties, he was still a handsome man with a full head of jet hair and trim build. His curled mustache reached far past his lip, from cheek to cheek.
The viscount's eyes traveled from Jack and came to rest upon Evelyn. Instantly his gaze sharpened. His mustache twitched as one corner of his mouth twisted upward.
“Mr. Harding,” Lady Cecilia said. “I trust you are enjoying yourself.”
“Your ball is quite spectacular as are you yourself, my lady,” Jack said. “No other hostess can do it justice.”
Lady Cecilia smiled, instantly charmed. Her cheeks flamed as red as her wig. “I'm flattered, Mr. Harding.”
Evelyn wanted to roll her eyes. Only Jack could make the severe hostess blush.
The viscount spoke up, his rapier gaze boldly passing over Evelyn. “I know better than to ask the true identity of this lovely Cleopatra, but I hope you are enjoying the festivities as well.”
“Your champagne is exceptional, my lord, and the guests' costumes are a feast for the eyes.”
“As are you. I've always been fascinated with anything Egyptian,” the viscount said.
Despite his attractive demeanor, Evelyn was unnerved by his intense stare. There was more than lust shining in his jet eyes, there was also a cold efficiency that made her heart thump against her rib cage.
Could he have brutally stabbed a woman to death in her own home?
Evelyn was keenly aware of the viscountess's stiffening spine at her husband's blatant interest.
Lady Cecilia reached out to take the viscount's arm, and Evelyn was certain she saw the woman pinch her flirtatious husband.
Their marriage is hardly amicable,
Evelyn thought. If her husband openly pursues other women, no wonder the viscountess is bitter.
Jack spoke up, breaking the awkward silence. “I've heard that you know the secret identities of all your guests, my lady. Is it true?”
“What nonsense!” Lady Cecilia said. “Someone is pulling your leg. I recognized you, Mr. Harding, only because you chose to wear an eye patch and not a mask. How in the world could I know what costumes my guests decided to wear beforehand?”
Jack grinned. “A theory is all, my lady.”
Cecilia's cold eyes sniped at Evelyn. “I couldn't begin to guess the identity of our Lady Cleopatra.”
A devilish look crossed Jack's face. “Ah. Neither can I.”
Lady Cecilia relaxed and pulled her husband alongside her. “Come along, dear. We must greet our other guests. It's been a pleasure, Mr. Harding.”
Jack nodded and their host and hostess disappeared in the throng of costumed revelers.
Evelyn turned to Jack. “What on earth was that about?”
“She has a fireplace poker up her arse, and he's a perverted whoremonger.”
“Jack!”
“I didn't like the way he looked at you.”
Evelyn felt her face grow hot. “Do you think him capable of killing someone?” she whispered.
“I think anyone is capable of killing. The question is: Is Hamilton capable of sadistically murdering a helpless woman?”
“That is the reason I wanted you to attend tonight. To observe him. Although I have seen the viscount at society functions in the past, I never had reason to study him as a suspect. I was hoping your knowledge of criminal behavior would help.”
“My experience can shed light on a person's behavior. But even I will admit that the savviest criminals have a dark side that is inherent in their nature and can be difficult to detect. Just like a chameleon, they can camouflage their dark thoughts and blend with their environment.”
“Still, you know more than most.”
He cocked his head to the side and measured her with a cool appraising look. “Let us go our separate ways tonight. When Hamilton goes into the card room, I will engage him in conversation. It's the best way to study his mannerisms.”
“Butâ”
Jack held up a hand to interrupt her in a fashion that was becoming irritatingly familiar. “We should not be seen together tonight. We will attract untoward attention.”
Surprise siphoned through her. Jack Harding worried about society gossip? Surely he wasn't expressing concern for
her
reputation. She, more than he, knew about propriety. It would defy all the rules for her, the daughter of an earl, to fraternize with a bachelor.
Or was Jack worried that they would draw Viscount Hamilton's curiosity?
Either way, Evelyn felt as if Jack had put her in her place, had slapped her on the wrist like a wayward child.
“I didn't intend to be your shadow,” she said, her voice sounding strained to her own ears.
“I didn't think you did. I'm merely suggesting you should consider wagging tongues. Even though your true identity is craftily disguised and you arrived with your father, I've learned never to underestimate vicious gossipmongers.”
“Concerned for your reputation, are you, Jack?” she snapped.
He shot her a sly wink. “Always, Evie. I wouldn't want the
ton
to see me with one lady. They might erroneously conclude that I'm considering relinquishing my coveted bachelorhood.”
With a click of his booted heels, he donned his plumed hat and disappeared into the crowd.