he was right. Uncle Mick had made sure I was properly educated and that I knew the ins and outs of good society. I hadn’t gone to university, but I’d worked hard—and excelled—at my schooling and served a term at finishing school for good measure. My accent, while obviously not as cut-glass as the major’s, was polished enough for elegant company. I might not be a proper society lady, but I’d learned to pass for something close to one. It was better that way when we were trying to do a job, to be able to blend in. It was important to be able to insert oneself into the mind of the quarry.
Prepared or not, though, the thought of attending such an event made me just the slightest bit uneasy. I would never have admitted that to the major, of course, but I felt it all the same. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I could do it. There had been few times in my life when I had doubted my capabilities. I hadn’t been raised that way. Growing up, I had seen Uncle Mick accomplish everything he had put his mind to, and it had never occurred to me that I wasn’t capable of achieving the same things. He had never treated me differently because I was a girl—not much differently, anyway.
But it was one thing sneaking into a dark house in the dead of night to open a safe. That was something I knew how to do. I knew—or had at least thought I knew—what to expect. It wouldn’t be the same at a party. There would be a house full of people, eyes on us from all angles.
And there would be a killer in our midst.
If the major noticed my hesitation, however, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening at nineteen hundred hours.”
That was it. No pleasantries, no options. He would pick me up, and he would expect me to be ready. I mused that it was probably the way he conducted all his dinner dates.
I gave a little sigh. “All right.”
His gaze swept over me in an assessing way, as though taking in the quality of my clothes. “We’ll get you an appropriate evening gown,” he said.
My chin tipped up a bit at what he seemed to be insinuating. “What makes you think that I don’t have one already?”
“Have you?”
I had challenged him defensively, automatically, but now I thought of the dress that hung in my closet, the one I had always worn to dances and the like. It was nice enough, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t pass muster at an event held by Sir Nigel Randolf. It might be a difficult situation to remedy, especially in the next twenty-four hours.
He seemed to be following my train of thought, for he said, “It’s all right if you haven’t. We’ll get something sent over.”
“I should hate to be in your debt.” It was a polite turn of phrase, but I meant it. I didn’t want to owe Major Ramsey any more than I already did.
“We’ll take it out of your wages, shall we?” he asked.
I thought he was teasing me, but then I realized that he was serious. “What wages?”
“You’re going to be paid for your work, of course. You didn’t expect to do this for free?”
“I thought I was doing it to remain free,” I replied.
“That was the initial inducement, yes, but you fulfilled that part of the bargain. As you are choosing to remain in our employ, you’ll be paid for your services. You’ll need something to live on now that there will be no more thievery in the foreseeable future.”
This was something I hadn’t counted on, and it took me by surprise.
“We’ll put your uncle on the payroll as well,” he said. “He will doubtless be of use to us. I’ll discuss the particulars with both of you in a few moments.”
“That’s … that’s very kind,” I said.
He went on without acknowledging me. “You can leave your measurements with Davies before you go, and he’ll see to it that they get something sent over to you by tomorrow. I assume you have the appropriate … cosmetics and the like?”
I nodded. “I can even manage to control my hair when I set my mind to it.”
His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to the black waves framing my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see an errant curl making an escape near my temple, but I suppressed the