Page 37 of To Catch A Rogue
Once in the ballroom,it was as if the conversation hadn't happened.
Charlie returned a minute or two after she did and cheerfully greeted Byrnes and Ingrid. He caught her watching him once or twice, the blue of his eyes heating, but Lark would swiftly look away and move on.
This was a disaster.
But she needed to focus.
Gemma had returned after her meeting with the mysterious Valentin Kosova, and slipped the listening device into Lark's hand.
"Balfour's desk, if you please," Gemma said, and moved on.
Dancers whirled. Champagne flowed. And Balfour and his wife mingled among the guests like excellent hosts, paying the Rogues little attention.
He didn't have to.
Lark used the champagne glass to shield her mouth from view as Charlie joined her. "The woman in green has been watching us surreptitiously for the past hour. She's not making it obvious, but she's definitely been advised to keep us in her sights."
She was cursing herself for wearing the red gown now.
Red was conspicuous, but Gemma had chosen the gown, not her. Surely she had a reason, though Lark couldn't imagine it.
Charlie lifted her gloved hand to his mouth. "I've marked another. Man by the enormous potted palm. He's good. Doesn't look at us very often. Dressed in livery, so he's attempting to look like one of the servants, but he just ignored a direct order from one of the Blood. Want to test our little theory?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"A promenade outside on the terrace. We’ll use the crowd to see if they’re following us."
Lark slipped her hand through his proffered elbow. "Lay on, MacDuff."
Charlie gave her an odd look as he escorted her toward the doors. "You do this very well, you know?"
"I know. I once slipped Lady Carmichael's bracelet right off her wrist at a masquerade party at the Venetian Gardens. She thought I was a mysterious gentleman. The skirts are a little more hampering though."
He pushed through the garden doors. "We're going to need a distraction."
There was certainly no shortage of eye-catching entertainment.
A hot air balloon floated above them, filled with giggling young dandies. Men belched fire on the lawns, another man swallowed a sword, and a dozen acrobats performed near miraculous flips and tumbles. Lark scanned the crowd. Perfect terrain for a pickpocket. Everyone was distracted.
"Ready to separate?" she murmured.
"Meet me in the upper hallway in ten minutes. We've got to shake our tail first." Charlie headed off in the opposite direction.
Lark slipped through the crowd, weaving between them swiftly.
She stole a handsome young baron's cloak from where it was cast over the balcony, swirling it about her shoulders as he pointed at the hot air balloon.
Then she was gone, moving like a shadow through the crowd as the woman in green tried to find her.
Red was an excellent target, but it also made one lazy.
Lark passed directly behind the woman as she clearly scanned for Lark. She was so close, she could have reached out and touched her.
Fireworks suddenly broke the stillness, the night sky shattering into violent coruscations of color. Inside the ballroom, the guests gasped and moved toward the windows, and the crowd on the terrace drew closer together. Moving swiftly would draw attention, so she sidled from group to group, watching as the woman in green started growing more and more frantic.
Lark met Charlie's eye across the terrace as he faded into the shadows of the enormous rearing horse statue guarding the stairs.
Perfect time to make our move.
