dressed in his uniform. Her face fell further. “Oh. Are you going to a party?”
“As it happens, yes,” he replied. “I’ll just say good night to your parents—”
“Can I come with you?” she blurted.
He paused, blinking. “I don’t think it’s the kind of party where I can bring my own guests.”
“Will she be there?”
“Who?” he demanded, opening the parlor door.
“Never mind,” Annie muttered and brushed past him to run upstairs.
As he exchanged a few words with her parents, he couldn’t help remembering what Griz had said at the inn. It made him uncomfortable, and he began to wonder if he could afford a cheap room somewhere that would keep him more or less out of Annie’s way. Well, if he kept traveling by hackney, he would never be able to afford the rent. Perhaps he should speak to Cordell about working longer hours. If the doctor could afford to pay him.
Half an hour later, the cab dropped him in Mount Street, and Azalea welcomed him like an old friend.
“Ah, Mr. Tizsa! Or is it Captain?”
“Mister will do,” he said mildly, bowing over her hand. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“It’s our pleasure—isn’t it, Eric?” She turned to the man at her side. “This is Mr. Tizsa, whom I was telling you about, Grizelda’s friend from Hungary. My husband, Lord Trench.”
Dragan shook hands with Lord Trench, a tall, fair man with amiably smiling lips and a hint of cynical humor in his hooded eyes.
“Always glad to meet a friend of Grizelda’s,” he said, and Dragan passed on to make way for the couple behind him.
In the drawing room, a footman offered him champagne, which he accepted with a murmur of thanks while gazing about him in search of Griz.
There was no guarantee, of course, that she would be here. She had carefully arranged her life independently of the rest of the family, for the most part, and her feelings for Azalea were definitely mixed. He wondered whether she would be glad or appalled to see him here. Perhaps he should have told her, but until he had found himself putting on the uniform, he hadn’t been sure he would come. He didn’t really want to think about the reasons he was here.
However, he had the feeling she preferred to keep him away from family eyes—probably another sign of her independence—but since he had by now met two of her brothers and a sister, that boat had sailed.
A man’s voice penetrated the tasteful music and the chatter in the room. Dragan could only make out the odd word— “army…come from…pretty…”.
Casting a glance in the direction of the voice, he saw a British army officer in dress uniform, a blaze of red and gold braid, which made Dragan’s look as if he’d been rolling in mud for weeks. Perhaps the British officer felt the same, for he was definitely looking Dragan up and down, while he spoke to a court of three admiring young ladies and a dowager.
Dragan strolled on and was glad to run into Timothy Worth.
“Tizsa, old chap, pleasure to see you here,” Worth said, thrusting out his hand. “Do you know Royston and Gardiner?”
Worth’s friends proved as amiable as he. While they chatted, he took in the rest of the room, establishing that Griz was not present. In fact, he could not see any of her family, although Lord Horace’s assistant, Gabriel, was seated at the far end of the room, attentively bent toward a large-boned lady who might have been his wife.
“Mr. Tizsa!” Annabelle Worth greeted him as she joined their group. “What a pleasant surprise.” Inserting herself between her husband and Dragan, she drew him a little aside. “How goes your investigation, sir? I called on Griz earlier today to find out, but she was not at home, drat her.”
“We are not much further forward,” he admitted, “but we haven’t yet given up.”
“Ah, look, there are the duke and duchess,” Annabelle said, nodding toward the door.
A dignified couple somewhere in their late middle years had appeared. Lord Trench was speaking to the duchess. Lady Trench kissed her father’s cheek and turned, speaking rapidly to someone he couldn’t see, presumably Griz, since the taller figure of Lord Forsythe lounged behind her.
At the same time, movement within the room caught Dragan’s eye. The loud officer had left his harem and was walking toward the door. Smiling, he made his bow to the duke and duchess. Now, Dragan could see Griz, and she took his breath away.
She wore the same rose silk