“Nice to see the old drapes back,” commented Palfrey. “Last time I was here, it was all blackout curtains and sandbags at the entrance.”

“Who was playing?”

“No band. They had commandeered the room for war planning. I prefer it like this. So tell me—have we just crashed this party?”

“I do have an invitation.”

“Which was sent to Lord and Lady Bainbridge. We are crashing, aren’t we?”

She shrugged.

“What fun. Ah, that’s Bill Savill,” said Palfrey as the bandleader strode to the front. “Nice choice.”

“You know him?”

“He’s on Music While You Work. We have it on at HQ. Strings and woodwinds, none of that blasting brass derailing one’s train of thought. You can dance and have a decent conversation. Shall we?”

He stood and held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Only a few other couples were dancing. She had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it meant more people could see her dancing. On the other, there were fewer people in the way, and it was a foxtrot. She rested her hand on his shoulder and smiled.

He was a decent dancer, she was grateful to find out. He had a strong lead, and negotiated her through the turns and corners with gentle but firm signals on her waist and through their clasped hands. She found her body reacting before her mind could summon up what it was supposed to do.

“What song is that?” she asked.

“‘I’m Stepping Out with a Memory Tonight,’” he said.

“Ah yes,” she said. “Too appropriate for me. Ronnie and I danced to it at the Mayfair.”

“He sounds like he was a splendid chap.”

“I haven’t said all that much about him.”

“I may have made a few enquiries,” he confessed. “Knew some men who knew him, as it turns out. Men who fought with him.”

“Were you investigating him? Or me?” she asked.

“Both,” he said. “Assessing the defenses, as you said at Sally’s. I wanted to know more about you.”

“What did you find out?” asked Mrs. Bainbridge.

“That you spent some time in—” He hesitated.

“Go on,” she said.

“Deep mourning,” he said softly.

“That’s a delicate way of putting it.”

“But now you’re dancing,” he said. “That has to be an improvement.”

“My body is dancing,” she said. “Honestly, I feel more like an automaton than a woman half the time.”

“Keep dancing, then,” he said. “Your soul will catch up to your body in time. It took me a while, too.”

“How long?”

“I’m still working on it,” he said. “We all are. Think you could manage a dip?”

“No idea. Let’s give it a go. Don’t forget to pick me up from the floor when it’s done.”

They partner well, thought Sparks enviously. Too bad I’m only a maid tonight, or I’d be out there, too.

She stood in a corner with other lady’s maids and gentleman’s valets, Mrs. Bainbridge’s cape draped over her arm, watching as more couples filled the floor. None of the ladies present matched Gwen in beauty and elegance, in Iris’s opinion.