Tara’s heart skipped a beat, but Lord Pottinger himself seemed to remain quite calm.
“Indeed? Might you point out where this particular gentleman is?”
Before Lady Hatton could do so, someone else hurried towards him, begging Lady Hatton’s pardon for interrupting the conversation and demanding that they speak with Lord Pottinger at once.
Tara took a small step back as Lord Pottinger listened first to one lady and then to another. They both pointed in different directions and to her frustration, another lady came close just after the other two had left. Indeed, in the space of only a few minutes, Lord Pottinger had been spoken to by at least six women who had all told him of a gentleman fitting the description he had given them. When the final lady stepped away, Tara moved forward, her eyes rounding as she took in Lord Pottinger’s lined forehead and twisted lips.
“What are you to do? They cannotallbe the gentleman we seek.”
Glancing around, she was relieved when Lord Stoneleigh, her sister, and Lady Sara, Lord Stoneleigh’s betrothed, came to join them. They all wore masks, but Tara knew already who they were.
“I assume you have had many descriptions of this gentleman, Pottinger,” Lord Stoneleigh remarked as Lord Pottinger himself nodded.
“I have had at least five men reported to me as possibilities. They have been pointed out to me in various directions; all tall, broad-shouldered men with a beard.” Taking a deep breath, he sighed, then closed his eyes. “Perhaps this was not the wisest idea.”
“It is the only thing we have to go on,” Tara replied, coming to stand beside him and grasping his hand in as surreptitious a manner as she could manage. “We can all step away and keep our eyes on one of these gentlemen. If we see the man we are watching attempting to take a young lady from the room, then we will know that he is the man we must follow.”
Her breath shuddered out of her at the thought of again coming face to face with the man who had been so wicked and who had demanded so much from her, but her determination rose all the more as she saw Mary nod. She did not want what had happened to her sister to happen to any other young lady, nor did she want anything like what had happened to Lord Pottinger to happen to anyone else. That was her goal. That was her determination, and after a moment, she felt Lord Pottinger squeeze her hand in assent.
“Be careful and do not let him see you, if you can manage that. Your sister’s mask disguises her completely but yours a little less so.”
Despite her inner trembling, Tara managed to smile.
“Or maybe it is that you know me so well, you are simply able to tell who it is behind the mask. Whereas someone such as he might be entirely unable to do so.”
A quick smile crossed his lips, and he lifted her hand as if to brush it across his lips, only to drop it again, smiling before giving it another gentle squeeze before turning to the others. Giving them all instructions about where the ladies of thetonhad told him the supposed culprit might be, Lord Pottinger released her hand and, after another long look, turned and went to his left. The others all took one potential gentleman each as their target and thereafter, Tara found herself quite alone.
Putting her hands behind her back, she meandered slowly across the ballroom in her allocated direction. Her eyes darted from here to there as she searched for a bearded gentleman who was rather tall. It did not take her long to spot him, for a broad-shouldered fellow soon quickly came into view who was talking animatedly with a young lady. His mask covered his forehead, eyes, and cheeks but allowed a dark beard to remain visible. As for the young lady, her mother stood beside her, and Tara let out a small sigh of relief. There would be no discernible way for that gentleman – if he was the gentleman in question - to make off with the young lady to any nearby room.
Looking around the room, Tara shrank back closer to the wall, wondering if they would have any success this evening. Her eyes drifted back towards where the gentleman and the young lady were still conversing, only, to her shock, to see that the young lady’s mother was no longer standing with them. In fact, the gentleman had somehow managed to make it so that only he and the young lady stood together.
Her heart turned over in her chest as she watched the gentleman reach out to run one hand down the lady’s arm. Silently, she willed the girl to step back, to move away, but instead, she only dropped her gaze and smiled. The gentleman had not done anything particular as yet, but that one, single action was enough to convince her that this was the gentleman they were searching for. Her eyes went around the room, desperate to find Lord Pottinger. If only he was near her, then she would be able to tell him that this man was the one she believed they had been looking for. She dared not leave her position, however, for fear that the gentleman would take his leave, or worse, slip from the room with the young lady.
Tara’s breathing quickened rapidly, one hand pressing against her faltering heart as the gentleman turned around and began to walk away with the young lady on his arm. This was still foolishness on the young lady’s part for she ought not to be stepping out without her mother present. Licking her lips, Tara stepped forward, following the gentleman and the young lady as her stomach swirled with a mixture of nervousness and fear. The gentleman turned his head and Tara caught the way his eyes glittered as he looked down at the young lady, her skin crawling with the despicable intentions in his smile. Her heart thudded furiously as the gentleman made for the door, a door which would lead away from the ball and into another place entirely – and much to her horror, the young lady seemed entirely willing to go with him.
Mary did the same thing,she reminded herself, a small trickle of sweat running down her spine.And now this gentleman seeks to do the same to another young lady.
* * *
Someone caught her arm,and she knew, without even looking at him, that it was Lord Pottinger.
“Is that the gentleman?” Lord Pottinger gestured with his chin towards the fellow who was still drawing ever closer to the door. “The gentleman I was sent to consider could certainlynotbe the man, given that he was shorter than almost every other gentleman here!”
There was a grim smile on his face and his jaw was set, his eyes narrowing slightly as they followed the gentleman and the young lady.
Tara drew in a steadying breath and braced herself.
“Yes,” she stated. “Yes, I believe that he is the one we are looking for. I must go and find my sister, Lady Sara and Lord Stoneleigh if we are to follow him. We cannot simply go after him alone.”
“Very well,” Lord Pottinger replied firmly. “I will follow him and, if required, I will confront this fellow. But hopefully you will reach me before that becomes necessary.”
“Pray be careful.” Tara squeezed his hand for a brief moment before turning away, praying that she would find her friends before Lord Pottinger was forced to confront that gentleman. Her heart beat furiously fast as she searched the ballroom for her sister. It did not take long to find the peacock feather mask and with a swell of relief, Tara grasped her hand. “We must go at once. Do you know where Lord Stoneleigh or Lady Sara is?”
“The gentleman you were watching is the man, then?” Mary asked, not answering Tara’s question.
“Yes, I believe so.” Tara cast a worried glance over her shoulder, uncertain as to whether or not Lord Pottinger had stepped forward after the man as yet. “Lord Pottinger is following him, but I do not know if he will be able to wait for our arrival before he must act.”
Mary nodded.
