Page 76 of When You Rescued Me

Had he imagined the regret lacing her words? He hoped not.

“If we find our quarry soon enough, I may be spared from dancing very much,” he said, “but I hope you will do me the honor at least once.”

She smiled. “I would like that.”

Before Samuel could ask her to join him for the next dance, a tall, thin man wearing a white wig and dark-blue jacket and breeches stepped up.

“Miss Dennington!” he said, bowing politely. “May I have the pleasure of the next dance?”

Samuel eyed the newcomer disbelievingly. Had the fellow truly stolen Samuel’s dance partner out from under his nose? Mentally berating himself for not requesting Hannah’s first dance while they were yet in the carriage, Samuel planted his feet. He did not know who this forward fellow was, but he wished he would go away.

“Good evening, Mr. Cantrell,” Hannah said. “I would be honored.”

“Excellent.” He went to extend his arm toward her, but Hannah spoke again.

“Mr. Francis Cantrell, this is Mr. Samuel Ross. Mr. Cantrell is my father’s solicitor,” she explained before turning back to the white-wigged man. “Mr. Ross is a business associate of Father’s.”

Mr. Cantrell’s eyes widened, and he studied Samuel with undisguised interest. “Mr. Samuel Ross, you say?”

“Indeed,” Samuel said, greeting him with a slight inclination of his head. “I am pleased to meet you.” It was not entirely true, but given that nothing about this evening was as it seemed, Samuel considered it a safe response.

“May I ask your line of work, Mr. Ross?” Cantrell asked.

This was not the time to admit to being a Bow Street principal officer, and he could hardly claim a business that he knew nothing about. “I recently retired from service in the Royal Navy,” he hedged.

“And your ship?”

Samuel thought it unlikely that a London solicitor was sufficiently conversant with the naval fleet to care which ship he had worked aboard, but he gave the gentleman what he wished. “The HMS Swan.”

“Marvelous!”

At Cantrell’s delighted expression, Samuel experienced his first twinge of misgiving. What exactly was this fellow about? “Are you familiar with the ship?” he asked.

“Only by hearsay,” Cantrell replied. “But I should very much like to speak with you about it. Would you be willing to come by my office on Chancery Lane tomorrow morning?”

This conversation had quickly gone from irritating to ridiculous.

Samuel frowned. “You wish to talk to me about my time aboard HMS Swan?”

“Yes. Rather urgently, as a matter of fact.” He waved an arm in the general direction of the musicians and dancers. “I would speak with you now, but this is hardly the place for a serious conversation.”

Samuel glanced at Hannah. She gave him an apologetic look. Was the solicitor known for being eccentric?

“I believe the dance is about to start, Mr. Cantrell,” Hannah said, obviously hoping to distract the fellow from his pestering.

“Of course.” Cantrell offered her his arm, but as soon as Hannah had set her hand upon it, he gave Samuel his attention again. “Would half past nine tomorrow morning suit, Mr. Ross?”

It appeared that Cantrell was not so easily diverted after all. Samuel had no idea what tomorrow would bring at Bow Street, but if he was to stay in the Dennington family’s good graces, it would not do to disregard Dennington’s solicitor’s invitation. The sooner he put the visit behind him, however, the better.

“Half past nine tomorrow,” Samuel repeated.

Cantrell beamed, and with a stiff nod, he led Hannah onto the center of the floor. Samuel could hardly bring himself to smile. Not only had he just agreed to an extended version of this awkward conversation with the odd gentleman, but he now had to stand aside as Cantrell led away the only woman in the entire overcrowded room that Samuel wished to dance with.

Chapter 28

The allemande had never felt so long. Hannah circled Mr. Cantrell for what seemed like the hundredth time, her gaze sweeping the ladies and gentlemen filling the ballroom. She’d lost sight of Samuel soon after the dance had begun. That fact alone should have made it easier to ignore how her pulse had responded when he’d stood so close that she could see the blue flecks in his gray eyes while he’d teasingly asked about nosy Mrs. Chesterfield. It should have made it simpler to focus on searching the room for Grimsby and Aitken or to offer Mr. Cantrell some uninterrupted attention. Unfortunately, neither her head nor her heart seemed to agree with such logic. No matter the social protocols she’d only just explained to Samuel or the danger inherent in the clandestine mission he was about, she wanted to be with him—and only him—this evening.

Somehow, her feet had managed the dance steps faultlessly, but she could scarcely remember any details of the stilted conversation she and Mr. Cantrell had exchanged thus far. She hoped her responses had been adequate, at least. She had no desire to encourage the gentleman, but neither did she want to appear rude. Waiting for him to take her hand to move down the line of dancers, she summoned a smile.