As Luck Would Have It by Alissa Johnson Page A

looked back at Sophie. “I’m having a little dinner party tomorrow night. Sophie has a bizarre notion that her companion should dine with the family. Need another man to even out the numbers.” Without taking his eyes from Sophie, Loudor produced the mostsickening smirk Alex was sure he had ever seen. “Up to the task?”
    Another throttling. Another smile. “I look forward to it.”
    The second-to-last dance was a waltz. Fortunately, Sophie had yet to receive permission to waltz from the matrons of Almacks and was thus afforded the perfect excuse to decline the young gentlemen vying for her regard.
    There seemed to be a great many of them, she realized with a mixture of pride and unease. They had appeared almost the moment Alex left her side. Apparently, the Duke of Rockeforte’s attention had immediately marked her as a person of consequence.
    It had all been very exciting, of course, but it was time to get to work. She had the space of two dances to get into and out of Lord Calmaton’s study.
    Sophie excused herself to visit the ladies’ retiring room. She’d gone twice earlier in the evening, peeking into rooms and poking behind paintings in the hope she might find a hidden safe, and cautiously testing the doors along the hallway. The fourth room on the right had been locked, and Sophie hoped that meant she’d found the study.
    Pausing in a darkened recess, she pulled up her skirts and retrieved a long pick from the strap around her ankle. She would have to be quick. The room was located far enough down the hall for there to be little traffic, but she had no intention of drawing attention to herself by loitering.
    It took her nearly a minute to open the door. She was usually much faster, but her hands were shaking badly, and the blood pounding in her ears made it difficult to hear the clicks and taps of the inner workings of the lock.
    Finally she succeeded and was thrilled to find that she had chosen the correct room. Her eyes scanned the interior. It was too dark. She crossed over to the windows and pulled back the drapes, relieved to find the moon shining brightly on her face. She quickly opened the curtains on the remainingwindows. It was still too dark for her taste, but there was enough light to keep her fear in check and for her to see what she was about.
    She started with the desk. The top was littered with papers; she couldn’t possibly read them all. She fumbled through the stacks, hoping something would catch her eye. She had an absurd vision of finding some triple-sealed envelope with the word SECRET written across the front, possibly in blood.
    When her search turned up nothing more nefarious than a delivery notice for some expensive jewelry to a woman who was not the viscountess, Sophie moved behind the desk and began opening the drawers. The first three held supplies, a ledger, and more paperwork detailing the running of the estate. The fourth was locked. Swearing under her breath, Sophie pulled her pick back out and went to work. This was taking too much time. The waltz was already finished and the last song well under way.
    With a whispered plea to her Maker she pried the drawer open and almost groaned at the sight of more letters, but caught herself before the sound reached her throat. The letters were in French, every last one of them. She rifled through the pile anxiously. They could be anything! For the first time, Sophie was sorry she had chosen to learn Mandarin and Hindi over the much more popular French. She grabbed one of the letters and looked over the meaningless words. What if they were from a relative, or a lover? Her eyes reached the bottom of the page and she blinked in surprise. It wasn’t signed. She looked back at the others still in the drawer. None of them were signed. Surely a loved one would sign the letters.
    She pocketed the paper and then, digging through the remainder, found an envelope and took that too. She hoped they were worth something. At any rate, the music was