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“Agreed, m’lord.”

Sir John leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “One man in the ballroom, two on the terrace within access of the french doors, and three or four strategically positioned on the street. Not ideal, perhaps, but not what Grimsby and his men will be expecting either. They are undoubtedly banking upon the element of surprise. We shall match that handsomely.”

“Who would you place in the ballroom, m’lord?” Clarke asked.

“Ross,” he said. Samuel jolted upright, but before he could utter a word, the magistrate continued. “It has to be Ross. He has developed a relationship with Dennington, which will enable him to ask to be added to the gentleman’s party, and he is the only one involved in this case who is not well recognized as one of my men.”

“Grimsby knows me, my lord.” That was only one of the infinite reasons Samuel could have offered for why thrusting him into a high-Society ball was a terrible idea. It was also the most obvious.

“I realize that, but Grimsby will not be working alone. It is highly unlikely that his partner or the men working with him would know you. And as I cannot imagine Grimsby will be taking a turn around the floor, that puts the odds that you will remain incognito in our favor.”

Samuel swallowed. “If we implemented this plan, Grimsby is not the only one who would be avoiding the dance floor, my lord. I mastered a few jigs aboard HMS Swan, but that is the extent of my dancing abilities.”

“Then learn,” Sir John said. “You have the best part of three weeks. That is time aplenty to pick up the rudiments.”

Samuel had not felt this out of control of a situation since he’d been a boy second class and had been ordered up the rigging during a hurricane in the Atlantic. Not only was he equally unprepared for what lay ahead, but if things went badly, this endeavor could be just as deadly. “I could never pass as a gentleman of distinction, my lord. Even if I were to wear my newest clothes, I would be underdressed.”

“Jealous,” Sir John ordered. “Speak to Brogden. Have him advance Ross sufficient funds to purchase evening wear on Savile Row.”

With a smirk Sir John could not see, Jealous nodded. “I shall see to it right away, m’lord.”

“Good. Clarke, visit Telford House without making yourself known. Make note of where our men might position themselves to be useful but inconspicuous. By week’s end, I want your recommendations on who would be best suited for surveillance and assisting in rounding up any gang members in the vicinity of Telford House that evening. Jealous, I leave it up to you to gain us admittance into the garden on the night of the ball. See if your loose-lipped footman can provide us with a map of the house’s interior. Ross, secure yourself an invitation to the ball with the Denningtons and then set to work improving your dance skills and wardrobe.” He reached for his cane. “All of you, keep listening for information on Grimsby’s unidentified partner. Anything we can learn about him could prove helpful.”

Samuel followed the others to their feet, his head spinning. He was done for. Completely and wholly done for. He was no more suited for this assignment than Miss Dennington was for captaining a Royal Navy vessel. On second thought, given her sharp mind and head for business, she would probably fare better than he was going to.

“Good day, gentlemen,” Sir John said. He was halfway to the door when he stopped and turned back to face them. “And, Ross, you should know, with regard to what we are up against, the stakes are too high for me to gamble with a losing hand. I would not have given you this assignment if I did not have full confidence in your ability to fulfill it. The street urchin you once were is long gone, and in his place is a dedicated, hardworking Bow Street principal officer. Anyone who can successfully make so drastic a transformation once can manage another far less significant one.”

Sir John continued out of the room, leaving Samuel staring after him in stunned astonishment.

“Well, Clarke.” Jealous was the first one of them to speak. “I believe we can be credited with facilitating the fastest apprenticeship in Bow Street’s history.”

“Agreed,” Clarke said. “Congratulations, Ross.”

“Thank you.” Samuel hadn’t imagined it, then. Sir John had just declared him an official at Bow Street. “I’m not sure what just happened.”

“Oh, that I can tell you,” Jealous said. “You just agreed to take dance lessons.”

Clarke chuckled. “I believe my year-long apprenticeship of running messages and prisoners between Bow Street and the Old Bailey was significantly easier than your initiation into life as a principal officer, Ross. You have my commiserations.”

“Yes, but on the bright side,” Jealous added, “a fortnight from now, you will be the proud owner of some very elegant evening wear.”

Samuel’s stomach dropped. “Heaven help me,” he groaned.

“It might take that,” Clarke said. “Although, in truth, I believe we will all need divine assistance this time around.”

Chapter 17

Hannah sat in the parlor, a copy of Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe open on her knee, her thoughts far from the familiar storyline. What was it about Mr. Ross that made her feel that she knew him? Well, she supposed she did know him in a general-acquaintance sort of way. But there was more to it than that. She could place dozens of people on a list entitled General Acquaintances, but none of them consumed her thoughts the way Mr. Ross did. Neither did she have a burning desire to know many of them any better than she did now. Mr. Ross, however, was like a puzzle she must solve, a question she must answer. And that unfamiliar sensation was driving her mad.

Her book was proving to be a worthless diversion, but she had yet to come up with anything better. Her father was in his bedchamber, resting his leg after having walked up and down the hall with a cane for the first time since his fall. Elinor was with him, ensuring he actually stayed down. And Sophia was painting. As much as Hannah needed a distraction, she did not feel right about interrupting any of them.

A faint knock broke the silence of the parlor. Had someone come to the front door? She glanced at the clock. Calling hours were almost over, but it was possible that Emma Kempton had chosen to stop on her way home. Hannah waited, hope blooming as Romford’s steady footsteps sounded outside the parlor. He knocked and then entered.

“Begging your pardon, miss,” he said. “Mr. Ross is here. He wishes to speak with Mr. Dennington and claims the matter is rather urgent. As your father is indisposed, I wondered how you would like me to proceed.”

Mr. Ross was here. Again. Attempting to ignore the quickening of her pulse, Hannah glanced at the clock a second time. The gentleman had been here less than five hours ago. Something of great import must have come up at the meeting he attended at Bow Street to have brought him back so quickly.

“I will meet with him,” she said. “Have him join me in the parlor.” Only too aware of the empty room, she added, “And send Fanny in also.”