“And you, Miss York.” Northrup struck what he likely believed to be an impressive pose. “I shall save you the first dance.”

Tommy dry-heaved dramatically.

Everyone turned to look at her.

She stopped mid-heave and patted the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief. “I saw the cat do it and thought I’d give it a try.”

Philippa wished she could pretend to cough up a fur ball every time Northrup glanced her direction.

Her voice shook with fury. “I cannot believe you would flaunt your treachery in front of poor Damaris.”

Northrup arched his brows. “What treachery? I’m a hero.”

“Damaris created that cipher. She shared it with this very reading circle long before she shared it with you.”

Northrup smirked. “Is that how you remember it? Ladies’ inferior brains are notoriously unreliable.”

Philippa straightened. “We’ll swear to it.”

“To whom, pet? No one’s asking you.” Northrup looked bored. “I told the brigadier general the idea had come to me whilst explaining my illustrious family history to my niece. That must be how she learned of it.”

“I learned of it,” Damaris said through obviously clenched teeth, “because it was my idea, which I voluntarily taught to you and suggested might be helpful in the war.”

“There, you see?” Northrup smirked at her. “No hard feelings all around. My niece voluntarily relinquished all rights to it—”

“That’s not what I—”

“—and I claimed them,” Northrup finished. “My cipher. My reward.”

Chloe swept back into the ballroom, took one look at the furious expressions, and held her arm out toward Northrup. “Oh, Captain, surely you’ll do a duchess the honor of allowing her to escort you to the door. Dare I hope I’m to have the second set at your soirée?”

“Share the second dance with a duchess?” Northrup placed Chloe’s hand around the crook of his arm. “I believe I can make room on my list.”

“How can he have thought that offer was sincere?” Florentia burst out the moment Northrup was out of sight. “She was sweeping him out of the house like the rubbish he is.”

“I won’t do it,” Damaris spat. “I won’t be in the receiving line at a party in which he’s to be idolized for something I did.”

“You have to,” Tommy said. “It’s our chance.”

“A slim one,” Florentia said. “He’ll be on high alert. He already kept the manuscript under lock and key. After the reception we gave him this afternoon, he knows not to trust any of us.”

“He trusts Chloe,” Tommy said. “And he wants Philippa.”

“He wants my dowry and knows I am honor-bound to obey my parents,” Philippa corrected. “Marrying me gives him control.”

“Good riddance.” Chloe reentered the room and lowered her voice. “I’ve a plan. We’ll work out the details with the others tomorrow.”