chair back in its former position and resumed his study of the ballroom.
They hadn’t been watching again for more than five minutes when Marianne leaned forward in her chair and pointed. “Who is that man over there? The one standing near the potted palm, wearing a bright blue coat?”
Beau scanned the crowd until his gaze alighted upon the man in question. He narrowed his eyes. “That’s Baron Winfield. The father of Kendall’s intended, Miss Wharton.”
Marianne shook her head. “Is it?” she said. “That’s quite interesting.”
Beau frowned. “Why?”
Marianne bit her lip. She stood and clasped her hands over the back of the chair. “I need to go check on something. I think I might have an idea. I’ll meet you at your room at midnight.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Marianne hesitated a moment before she knocked on Beau’s door at midnight. Earlier, she had left the alcove above the ballroom in order to follow her suspicion—but she’d also needed to leave in order to remove herself from his presence.
Beau teaching her how to waltz had nearly turned her into a puddle, and she hadn’t trusted herself not to hurl herself into his arms and kiss him as she’d been longing to do since she’d met him in the servants’ staircase this evening.
His strong arms, his broad shoulders, and the way he led her in the dance, teaching her so expertly. It had all been more than she could bear. That combined with the scent of his soap and the memories of their nights together flashing through her mind, and she’d been nothing but pleased to have seen something in the ballroom that had made her need to leave the room. She had to wonder if it was a good idea to be entering his bedchamber tonight.
The clock at the end of the upper servants’ corridor began to chime, pulling her from her thoughts. At the far end of the hall, a door opened. Marianne sucked in her breath and pressed her back against the wall next to Beau’s door.
She watched as a woman emerged from one of the bedchambers and made her way toward the staircase in the middle of the floor. Marianne expelled her pent-up breath. Thank heavens the woman hadn’t come all the way down to the servant’s staircase at the end where Marianne was hiding.
As soon as the maid had disappeared from sight, Marianne spun around and quickly knocked on Beau’s door.
The door flew open nearly immediately and Beau pulled her inside. “Where have you been?” His voice was quiet but harsh. “I was worried about you.”
Marianne eyed him carefully. She could see the apprehension in his eyes. “You were worried? About me?”
Beau paced away from her and scrubbed a hand through his blond hair. “Yes, damn it. I was. I didn’t know where you’d gone or why. I thought perhaps you might need my help.”
“I’m sorry I worried you,” she said, somewhat taken aback by his admission. “But I had to check on something.”
He turned back to face her. “Yes, you said as much. What did you find out?”
Marianne folded her hands together in front of her. “When you told me the man in the blue coat was Baron Winfield, a few things began to make sense.”
Beau eyed her carefully. “What things?”
She inclined her head to one side. “Well, I’d certainly hate to have to inform Miss Wharton, but I saw the baron coming out of a maid’s room at Lord Clayton’s house party quite early one morning and in…ahem…a disheveled state of dress.”
Beau’s brows shot up. “Did you? Whose room?”
“That’s what I went to check. When I asked Mrs. Cotswold at Clayton’s estate, she told me it was the room of a maid named Albina. Tonight, I went to see if the Winfields were staying overnight.”
“‘Albina’?” Beau echoed. “I’ve heard that name before —seems Kendall mentioned it was the name of Frances’s lady’s maid.”
Marianne nodded. “Well, that would explain how Albina and Baron Winfield know each other.”
Beau plucked at his lip. “It would, indeed. But why do you think Baron Winfield and Albina have anything to do with the Bidassoa traitor?”
Marianne cocked her head to the side again. “When I was watching the ballroom earlier, I wasn’t only watching Lord Cunningham.”
Beau narrowed his eyes on her. “Who were you watching?”
“When I noticed Baron Winfield, I began watching him,” Marianne replied.
“And?”
“And he nodded his head toward Lord Cunningham three times in a row,” Marianne continued. “Lord Cunningham nodded back.”
Beau bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t even seen Baron Winfield