Effie registered the insult, but took no offense from it. She must have a reason to return here, and no number of balls or dinners would ever provide sufficient enough excuse. For that, she needed to cultivate an acquaintance with Compton’s daughter. “I should like that very much,” she replied.

She and Miss Compton returned to the salon. By that time, the gentlemen had joined the ladies, along with dozens of other guests who had come expressly to hear the music.

Effie didn’t see Gabriel in the crowd. Nor could she find Lord Haverford. She presumed they had already taken themselves off to have their discussion about St. Giles.

That was one problem dealt with.

She accompanied Lady Belwood to the drawing room for the musical portion of the evening. Best to keep near her hostess for this part. It was less risk than sitting with Miss Whitbread or Lady Lavinia, either of whom might take undue notice when Effie slipped away.

The Comptons’ large, Japanese silk–papered drawing room had been transformed for the event. The doors between it and the connecting room had been thrown open, making one enormous, high-ceilinged space. Row upon row of upholstered chairs were arrayed around a makeshift stage on which stood a piano and a harp. Two footmen at the entrance of the room distributed printed programs to each of the guests as they entered.

Effie urged Lady Belwood to a pair of straight-backed chairs near the exit.

“So far from the stage,” Lady Belwood said. “Should we not sit closer?”

“No indeed,” Effie replied, taking her seat. “These chairs are perfect.”

Lady Belwood appeared doubtful, but she didn’t argue. Sitting down beside Effie, she opened her program. “Oh, look! Miss Compton is singing ‘Com’è bello! Quale incanto.’ ”

“How delightful.” Effie opened her own program, perusing the order of pieces to be performed. Four young ladies were preceding Miss Compton with lighter works, and several more would come after her, singing both classical and popular pieces in solos and duets.

Glancing up from her program, Effie scanned the crowd for Lord Compton. She found him by the door on the opposite side of the room. He appeared just as solemn and respectable as on the previous occasions they’d met. There was no sign of the monster lurking within. Except…

Except that earlier, when he’d come to greet his daughter in the salon, he’d given Effie the same variety of ominous, glittering look he’d bestowed on her at the ball and at Hatchards. A look that only seemed to increase in heat each time Effie crossed his path.

Whatever else he was hiding, Lord Compton couldn’t hide he was attracted to her.

It wasn’t a crime in and of itself. Still, it was something.