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the trap of being herself rather than the character she was portraying. A rare mistake for her to make. She was perhaps too much at ease with him. Strange that a man who was so reserved could get under her guard like that. “But we know it was someone invited to that embassy party. It’s a wonder you didn’t happen upon the letter yourself with all the time you spend in the library.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Do you think an agent of her husband’s took it?”
    “That’s the obvious assumption. But in that case—”
    “Why hasn’t he acted on the information?”
    “Quite.” Malcolm hesitated for a moment, as though weighing how much more to say. “An open quarrel between the marques and Linford could have implications beyond the personal.”
    “It could cause a breach between the British and their Spanish allies. You’re worried the French intercepted the letter?”
    “We can’t ignore the possibility.”
    “Do you know if anyone who was at the embassy party where the letter disappeared is a French agent?”
    Malcolm stared at her.
    “I don’t know precisely how such things work, but I assume you might know or suspect someone was an enemy agent but be keeping an eye on them to feed false information.”
    He grinned. “You have the mind of an agent yourself, Suzanne. Yes, it’s been known to happen. But in this case I know of no one in particular.”
    And she couldn’t tell him she knew for a fact the French weren’t behind the theft of the letter. “But if the French took the letter and their aim was to create such a breach, surely they’d have made use of the letter as well.”
    “So one would think.” He regarded her again, as if still weighing how much to say. “The motive was blackmail.”
    “Of the marquesa?”
    “No, of Linford. At least he received a note demanding a notebook of his in exchange for the letter.”
    “A notebook?”
    Malcolm’s gaze flickered over her face, as though he was searching for the right words. She had the oddest sense that this man who had been so direct with her suddenly was protecting her sensibilities. “Yes. A notebook in which he recorded—”
    She choked back a laugh. “Malcolm, are you telling me Captain Linford kept a written record of his amorous conquests ?”
    “You’re quick.” His eyes glinted with appreciation.
    “Well, I have seen Don Giovanni . More than once. Do you think the blackmailer wants the book to embarrass Linford?”
    “Possibly. If the aim was to create a breach between us and the Spanish, the original letter should have served the purpose. Which makes me wonder—”
    “If the motive involves a specific lady mentioned in the book?”
    He nodded. “The personal, not the political.”
    “Less dangerous for the British.”
    “But not for the lady involved.”
    His voice turned grim. This was a man with a strong instinct to protect. “Obviously Linford can’t give the book up,” Suzanne said. “The consequences could be worse than the loss of the original letter.”
    “Quite. Linford’s creating a dummy notebook.” Malcolm drew a breath. She could see him once again debating how much to admit. “I’m going to meet with the blackmailer tonight.”
    “You think it will work?”
    “I hope it will.”
    “But—”
    “If it doesn’t, I’ll follow the blackmailer and try to learn his identity.”
    “You’ll need help.”
    She wondered if she’d gone too far. Perhaps it would have been better to follow him on her own. But instead of shock she saw consideration in his gaze.
    “No one would be surprised to see us leave the embassy together,” she said. “And I can move very quietly.”
    “I was going to take Addison. But I hate to share the marquesa’s secrets with anyone who doesn’t already know them, even Addison.”
    “And if you’re seen to disappear with me, they’ll simply assume we’ve slipped out for an amorous interlude.”
    He gave a faint smile. “Slipping out of the ballroom for an amorous