at hand to provide introductions,” she pointed out.
“Perhaps this will do.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a card. “I realize you cannot make this out in the moonlight, but when you return to the ballroom you will be able to read it. If you take it around to Lantern Street in the morning, Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh will recognize the seal. Tell them Mr. Smith’s Messenger sends his regards.”
“Who is Mr. Smith?”
“My former employer.”
A strange feeling whispered through her, stirring her senses. She suddenly got the disturbing premonition that taking the card would change her life forever in ways she could not begin to imagine. There would be no going back. Ridiculous, she thought.
She took a few cautious steps across the damp grass and plucked the card from his fingers. For an instant both of them were touching the crisp, white pasteboard. A tiny shiver of awareness arced across the back of her neck like an electrical spark. She told herself that it was her imagination, but she could not escape the intuitive certainty that her world had just turned upside down. She should be worried, perhaps frightened. Instead, she was unaccountably thrilled.
A thrilled idiot, she thought. After all, there was no doubt in her mind that Mr. Smith’s Messenger was a very dangerous man.
She glanced at the card. There was a name on it—presumably that of the mysterious Mr. Smith—but it was impossible to decipher in the moonlight. With her ungloved fingertips, however, she could feel the raised imprint of an embossed seal. She hesitated and then slipped the card into the pocket of her dress.
“Morning is a long time off and there are decisions to be made tonight,” she said, trying to sound authoritative.
She sensed that the balance of power was shifting between herself and Mr. Gage. That was not a good turn of events. One misstep and she knew that he would take full control of the situation, assuming he had not already done so. This was her case and Daphne was her responsibility. She had to stay in command.
“Very true, but detailed explanations will take a good deal more time than we have to spare,” Joshua said. “You must return Miss Pennington to the ballroom before there is any gossip.”
He was right. Daphne was her first priority. The mystery of Mr. Gage would have to wait. She had to make a decision and she had to make it immediately.
“I suppose your acquaintance with the proprietors of Flint and Marsh must serve as a character reference tonight,” she said.
“Thank you.” Joshua sounded amused.
She uncocked the pistol and turned away to discreetly whip up her petticoats. She returned the little gun to the stocking holster and lowered her gown.
When she straightened she saw that Daphne was staring at her, fascinated. Joshua was watching also, his hands stacked on the hilt of his cane. His expression was unreadable but she got the odd impression that he found the notion that she went about armed rather charming.
Most men would have been beyond shocked, she thought. They would have been appalled.
She concentrated on removing Daphne’s gag and untying her hands.
“Miss Lockwood,” Daphne gasped when she could speak. “I do not know how to thank you.” She turned to Joshua Gage. “And you, sir. I have never been so terrified in my life. To think that Grandmother was right all along, someone did, indeed, intend to compromise me. I never dreamed it might be Mr. Euston. He seemed like such a fine gentleman.”
“It’s over now,” Beatrice said gently. “Do you feel faint?”
“Good heavens, I’m not going to faint.” Daphne’s smile was shaky but determined. “I would not dare succumb to such weakness after watching you defend me with a gun. You are an inspiration, Miss Lockwood.”
“Thank you, but I fear Mr. Gage is correct,” Beatrice said. “We must return to the ballroom immediately or there will be talk. It takes so very little to shred a young lady’s reputation.”
“My gown is in good condition but I fear my dancing slippers have been ruined,” Daphne said. “They are soaked through and there are grass stains all over them. Everyone will know that I have just spent a great deal of time out in the gardens.”
“That is precisely why paid companions who accompany young ladies to balls make it a point to bring a spare pair of slippers,” Beatrice said. “They are in my satchel. Come, we must hurry.”
Daphne started forward and then paused to look down