Free Ballrooms and Blackmail by Regina Scott

from ours.”
    Priscilla hesitated. In truth, from the
situation of Emily’s box, she hadn’t been able to see into the ones
nearest her, and she hadn’t considered the fact that His Grace
might be attending tonight. Should she do as she’d planned and
accost Miss Bigglethorpe, or find a way to ingratiate herself with
him?
    “Tick tock, tick tock,” Lady Minerva sang
out. “You have a choice to make, girl, and intermission only lasts
so long. What will it be?”
    Priscilla pulled the gold-colored ring off
her gloved finger and handed it to Lady Minerva. “Tell the Duke of
Rottenford that you saw me in the corridor on the way to greet my
friends Miss Bigglethorpe and Miss Crandall. Be sure to mention I
was unescorted and appeared to be in distress. If that doesn’t
bring him to my side, nothing will.”

Chapter
Nine
    Nathan wasn’t surprised when someone pounded
on the door to the ducal opera box. Some members of Society were
always determined to curry favor with so highly placed a gentleman
as the Duke of Rottenford. He excused himself from where he sat
with His Grace, Glynnis, and her mother and went through the
crimson velvet curtains masking the door. With a nod, he instructed
the waiting footman to answer the knock, expecting to see an
up-and-coming Parliamentarian or a matchmaking mama on the other
side.
    Instead, Lady Minerva Southwell stood in the
corridor, the slender chest of her black lace evening gown rising
and falling in a most alarming manner, two splotches of color
decorating her high cheeks.
    “Priscilla Tate is wandering around this
theatre unescorted,” she announced. She thrust a boney finger into
Nathan’s blue satin-striped waistcoat. “And I want to know what you
intend to do about it.”
    Nathan glanced over his shoulder and lifted
the curtain to make sure the duke was safely engrossed in
conversation with his cousins, then let the curtain fall and
stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. “Are
you saying, madam, that Miss Tate is in danger?”
    She threw up her hands. “Miss Tate is the danger, if you ask me. The good Lord should have known better
than to put so much potential in such a potent package. Now, are
you going after her, or shall I?”
    Nathan frowned. “Where exactly did you see
her?”
    She shook her gray-haired head as if she
thought him quite obtuse. “That doesn’t matter! It’s not where she
was but where she will be that should concern you, young man. She
was making for the box of a Miss Bricklebatch and Miss
Cranberry.”
    Nathan nodded to a couple who were strolling
past, then lowered his head to meet Lady Minerva’s gaze. “Do you
perhaps mean Miss Bigglethorpe and Miss Crandall?”
    She waved a hand. “Their names are
immaterial. Miss Tate is not.” She pointed an imperious finger down
the corridor, where others were now exiting their boxes in search
of companionship and refreshments. “Go! Before it is too late!”
    Nathan went.
    He could not mistake the woman’s urgency,
even if he questioned her reasoning. Miss Tate could likely take
care of herself, even in a theatre crowded with all manner of
persons. But given his concern over the note he’d found in the
duke’s pocket, it seemed wisest to confirm she was safe.
    He’d noted the two ladies across the way
from them earlier. Miss Bigglethorpe in particular had been
encouraging of His Grace’s attentions. But though her family was
well known to the House of Rottenford, her reputation as a
headstrong beauty had led Nathan to steer his employer away from
her. Had she decided to take matters into her own hands? Perhaps
eliminate any rivals along the way?
    He found the box easily enough. The door was
hanging wide, with no sign of a footman. As Nathan hesitated, from
inside came the sound of female voices raised in argument.
    “I don’t much like your tone, Priscilla
Tate.” That clear voice belonged to Miss Bigglethorpe, unless he
missed his guess. “Just what do you think I’ve