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“Twelve years! Good heavens. I should say so! Half so long would make forming a connection difficult.” Sir John turned to face Samuel’s colleagues. “What do you think, Jealous? Have you met your match?”

Jealous inclined his head. “It may be, m’lord. And I am glad for it. If Miss Dennington is willing, she can be our eyes at Lady Telford’s ball.”

Samuel’s stomach lurched. It was one thing to use Hannah as his means of entry into Lady Telford’s house, but it was quite another to involve her in the hunt for Aitken.

“It would not be right to willfully place Miss Dennington in danger,” he said.

“I agree,” Sir John said. “But keeping an eye out for someone hardly constitutes a dangerous activity.”

“She need only tell you when she spots him,” Jealous added. “It will be our responsibility to approach and apprehend the man.”

Hannah looked from Samuel to Jealous before settling her gaze upon Sir John. “Am I to understand that you believe this man—Aitken—will be at Lady Telford’s ball?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sir John said.

She sat a little taller. “I have not learned if there was any loss of life associated with last night’s fire at the wharf,” she said, “but I was close enough to the inferno to know that severe injury and death were entirely possible. I am also fully aware that my father’s warehouse could have just as easily been the arsonist’s target. We were very fortunate and owe a great deal to those who battled the blaze.

“If you believe that I can assist in bringing the man responsible for so pernicious an act to justice, I am more than willing to learn how that might occur. Nevertheless, I believe it only fair that you tell me exactly what you anticipate will happen at Lady Telford’s ball before assigning me a role or asking for my acceptance of it.”

Samuel’s greatest wish was to keep Hannah as far from Grimsby and Aitken as possible, but it was impossible not to admire her forthright response to Sir John’s and Jealous’s cryptic suggestions. And it was equally difficult to keep from smiling at his companions’ stunned expressions.

Sir John was the first to recover. He cleared his throat. “Is it true that you were not the only one to enter the room just now, Miss Dennington?”

“Yes, my lord. My lady’s maid accompanied me.”

“And you believe that she can be trusted with sensitive material?”

“Completely, my lord. But if you would rather her not be privy to our conversation, that can be arranged.” Without waiting for the magistrate to respond, Hannah turned to speak to Fanny. “It appears you are due for another rest, Fanny,” she said. “Would you be good enough to take a seat and block out all distractions?”

“Right away, miss.” Fanny claimed a nearby chair, and without further ado, she closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her ears.

Samuel had known exactly what to expect. His colleagues, however, were taken completely off guard. Clarke smothered a chuckle with a well-timed cough, but Jealous did nothing to hide his amusement.

“Nicely done, Miss Dennington,” Jealous said.

“I sense that I have missed something important,” Sir John said. “Enlighten me, if you would.”

“Miss Dennington’s maid is currently sitting on a chair beside the door with her eyes closed and her fingers in her ears,” Jealous said. “Furthermore, I believe it fair to assume that this is not the first time she has assumed a similar position.”

Samuel caught Hannah’s eye. He saw her lips twitch as though she were fighting a smile. Seconds later, all trace of humor had been replaced by a well-practiced, composed expression.

“I confess, I am very fortunate in my choice of lady’s maid, Sir John,” she said. “She is both obedient and discrete.”

Sir John rubbed his hand across his chin. “I must say, Miss Dennington, I am most impressed. Indeed, if the law would allow it, I would already be pressing you into service at Bow Street. As it is, if you would be so good as to give me your word that you will not divulge the remainder of our conversation to anyone without these walls, I shall ask my men to share the details of a particularly vital, ongoing investigation, along with how it relates to Lady Telford’s ball. If, after you have heard what they have to say, you are willing to offer us your assistance, we shall accept it gladly.”

Chapter 27

Hannah studied herself in the mirror above the dressing table in her bedchamber. Her new blue gown suited her well. The sleeves and neckline were decorated with wide lace, and the gown’s soft silk fabric flowed smoothly from her cinched waistline across her wide paniers to skim the floor. Her hair was lightly powdered and pinned in an elegant crown atop her head. Fanny had inserted tiny pearl beads amid Hannah’s curls that gleamed when the light caught them. Outwardly, Hannah was ready for the ball. Inwardly, she was mustering her courage for what lay ahead.

Pinning her mother’s ivory brooch to the top of her bodice, she set the shawl Fanny had left on the nearby chair across her shoulders.

“It is time, Hannah Dennington,” she told her reflection quietly. “Remember, even if you are forced to face the highwayman who held you hostage or recognize the arsonist who might have killed Alfie, neither man will hurt you. You will be surrounded by other people. And Samuel will be at your side.”

That last thought should have given her comfort. Instead, the butterflies that seemed to come to life in her stomach whenever she thought about the gentleman cavorted wildly. She pressed her hand against her stays. He was downstairs. She’d heard his firm knock on the front door and Romford’s voice inviting him in. This would be the first time she’d seen Samuel since she’d agreed to help the Bow Street officers with their plan. She’d sensed his concern for her in Sir John’s parlor but had been grateful he’d brooked no argument. In a world dominated by men who felt that a woman’s place was at home, it had been a silent show of support that meant more than he would ever know.

Slipping from her bedchamber, she hurried across the landing. Voices reached her immediately, and as she descended the stairs, she realized that she was the last to arrive. Her father already had his hat and cane in hand. He looked resplendent in a tan coat, navy breeches, heavily embroidered gold-colored waistcoat, white stockings, and wig. Standing beside him, Sophia wore a floral peach-colored gown, and Elinor had chosen a beautiful soft-pink silk that enhanced her fair complexion. Beyond Romford, the only other person in the entrance hall was Samuel. Hannah turned to look at him, and her mouth turned dry. His forest-green jacket was perfectly cut to emphasize his broad shoulders. The rich color set off his crisp white shirt and the intricate silver-pattern embroidery upon his waistcoat. His breeches matched his jacket, and the silver buckles on his black shoes were polished to a shine. He had forgone wearing a wig in favor of a light dusting of powder on his naturally dark thick hair, and in his hand, he held a tricorn hat.

“Ah, there you are, Hannah.” Her father was the first to notice her, but at his greeting, everyone turned.