Elizabeth Powell Read Online Free PDF

ladies’ throats, wrists, and hair. The heat from the candles, added to that of bodies pressed in a confined space, turned the ballroom into a glittering furnace. Amanda felt a bead of sweat gather between her breasts, and she fanned herself briskly. This was society’s idea of a party? Dressed, stuffed, and roasted—she felt more like a Christmas goose than a party guest.
    Harry leaned down until his mouth was next to her ear. “Well, where do we begin?”
    Amanda started, speechless. We? She hadn’t counted on Harry’s willingness to do anything beyond getting her to the ball. She stared up at him, measuring his anxious countenance. Harry was a loyal friend, but he would take exception to what she was actually here to do.
    “Well,” she began, “we can’t really do anything until we see someone who can introduce me to Lord Hardwicke. I did promise you I’d be discreet, after all.” She smiled at him, and was relieved to see some of the apprehension leave his face.
    He squeezed her hand. “That’s my girl. Shall we take a turn about the room and see who’s here?”
    Amanda nodded, her mind a mad whirl. She hadn’t thought at all about what to do with Harry; she had hoped he would find an acquaintance or two and distract himself with conversation. So much for that. Her plan, though far from perfect, turned out to have some ship-sized holes in it. Then she seized upon an idea.
    “We can cover more of the room if we split up,” she said eagerly. “You go one way, and I’ll go the other, and we’ll meet back here.”
    The young lieutenant surveyed the sea of people and frowned. “I can’t let you wander off unescorted. What if something happened to you?”
    Amanda feigned nonchalance. She gestured to the room with her fan. “What could possibly happen to me with all these people around? Besides, this is not a social occasion; I do not wish to stay a moment longer than is necessary. I can take care of myself, Harry. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
    Harry scanned her up and down, as if seeing her for the first time. He blushed. “I can see that,” he replied brusquely. “I wish you’d worn something else.”
    “It was the only gown I could borrow on such short notice.” The vibrant green silk was one of Madame Molyneaux’s most fashionable creations, but that didn’t make Amanda any more comfortable with the low neckline and the drapey skirts. She felt positively undressed.
    “Are you certain about this?” Harry sounded like he wanted her to change her mind.
    “I’ll be fine, Harry,” she assured him.
    He nodded, reluctant. “All right. I’ll meet you back here.”
    They parted in opposite directions; Amanda guessed that she had between five and ten minutes to discover the location of Locke’s study. If she found it now, she would waste less time later and lower the chances of getting caught. Since she couldn’t descend the main staircase, she needed to find another way to get back to the first floor. This place was immense, as town houses went. She would wager there was a servants’ staircase toward the rear of the house.
    Amanda battled through the assembled throng like a salmon swimming upstream. Guests seemed to occupy every inch of floorspace, and more than once Amanda bit back a cry of pain when someone trod on her toes or poked her with a bony elbow. She escaped through the last set of doors, and paused in the corridor to take a restorative breath. Heavens, what a crush. She brushed a damp tendril of hair from her cheek and proceeded down the hallway. A few guests spared her a curious glance as she passed, but she smiled and continued to walk with a sense of purpose, as if looking for someone. There was indeed a rear staircase, just as she had hoped.
    Amanda spared a surreptitious glance over her shoulder. No one else had ventured this far back into the house. Her heart beat at a furious pace as she lifted the hem of her dress and crept down the narrow stairs.
    The poor footman