“Yes. But we need to set a few things up. First of all, Sir Phillip must be advised. He will want someone in authority there when the switch takes place.”
“Of course.”
“Now that we know the transfer of information will be done at the theater, I am even more reluctant to have you attend with the Ambassador. This could be a serious and possibly dangerous situation.”
“No. I have to go. We need to behave as if nothing is wrong. I’m even a little concerned that I left the table shortly after the conversation between him and the woman took place.”
Dante leaned his chin on his fisted hands. “He has no way of knowing the dealer was you. And you said they conversed in Russian. How many card dealers would be familiar with Russian?”
“I guess I’m just a bit jumpy at finally having something to work on.” She looked around the room. “I could use a cup of tea right now.”
What he could use was a snifter of brandy, and Lydia spread out on the bed in the bedchamber down the hall from them. Sans clothing. But that idea was wrong. Very, very wrong.
He stood. “Come, let us see if there is hot tea in the dining room. If not, there is tea downstairs at the buffet table, although the men who avail themselves of the food and drink rarely opt for tea.”
“How can you be so calm? I am beside myself with excitement.”
They entered and left the dining room quickly since there was no tea to be had there. They made their way downstairs to the gaming floor. He led her over to the buffet table and Lydia quickly made her cup of tea. She shook her head no when he pointed to the table of biscuits and sweet treats.
Dante snagged a brandy from the bar and they made their way back upstairs. He stared at Lydia as he sipped his brandy. She removed her mask and was flushed with excitement, something he would like to see in the bedchamber a few doors down.
He really had to take his mind far from those thoughts. As they sat in amicable silence, he pondered exactly where he and Lydia were in their relationship? Friendship? Partnership? Which was it? And which one did he want it to be?
So many questions and so few answers. He’d never wanted a permanent relationship. With no need for heirs, he expected to spend his life unmarried. He’d never felt the need to share his life with someone.
And then Lydia had arrived in his life. The Lydia he met with his arrogance and dislike had changed into the Lydia he not only enjoyed spending time with but of whom he’d found himself feeling quite possessive.
Aside from that, she was a beautiful woman with a body that was made for loving. Given what he’d learned so far, he had no doubts that she would be an enthusiastic bed partner. But she was a lady. Ladies did not have affairs unless they were very discreet widows.
As much as he’d wanted to fit her into the typical ton category—flighty, gossipy, impressed with money and titles—she was none of those things. The devil take it, the woman just translated in her head a conversation in Russian!
No she was not your typical ton female.
Then, where did that leave them? He truly did not want to shake her hand and say goodbye when the assignment ended. From what he’d seen of her reaction to him and his kisses so far, he doubted she wanted it to end, either.
But what, exactly, was it?
Lydia paced in her bedchamber, her skirts swirling as she turned to walk one way, then another. The Ambassador would arrive within the next few minutes to escort her to the theater.
According to the plan they’d devised with Sir Phillip, he would have sworn officers unknown to anyone from the Home Office in the theater lobby, posing as footmen.
Dante would be in the lobby as well, and she would be with the Ambassador in his theater box. She was assuming once the performance began he would leave to meet his contact in the lobby. If all went well, it would be accomplished in a matter of minutes, with both the Ambassador and the woman he was meeting, in handcuffs and led from the building.
Then it would be over.
And it was that thought making her pace. Not the excitement of bringing down the Ambassador—much to her chagrin since she prided herself on her work—but the thought of after weeks of being together, she and Dante would most likely go their separate ways.
Before she could twist herself completely into knots, there was a slight knock on her door. “The Ambassador has arrived, Miss Sanford.”
She thanked the maid and grabbing her reticule and shawl, left her room and headed downstairs. Father stood in the entrance hall, speaking with the Ambassador. She’d told her father a bit about their investigation. Not enough to compromise it, but just so he would know the Ambassador escorting her to the theater was not to be considered noteworthy.
Of course, Father had surprised her by clearly stating that in his opinion, Mr. Dante Rose was a much better catch than the Ambassador.
Not that Dante was swimming around, waiting for someone to ‘catch’ him, she’d retorted. Father just gave her one of those enigmatic smiles and whistling an off-key tune, walked away.
The Ambassador looked up as she descended. Due to Dante’s concerns, and truth be told, her own as well, she wore a reasonably modest gown. The neckline was certainly high enough to discourage too much leering. She had also tucked her ever-ready hat pin into her reticule.
He bowed and took her hand. She was grateful that she’d already put on her gloves as he slobbered over her hand in a kiss. “You are beautiful, Miss Sanford. I am honored that you have allowed me to escort you to the theater this evening.”