Page 121

N igel Deveraux stared down at the casket of jewels. His man was right. The Countess of Nevin suite was missing. He swore violently and viciously. How could that have happened? He looked at his valet inquiringly, his blue eyes glittering dangerously behind his thick veil of lashes.

The man gulped. “I-I don’t know, sir. When Miss Jewitt returned the casket last night, I placed it in your dressing room. This morning she brought me the sapphires Lady Lucy wore last night. When I went to put them away, it was then I noticed that the—that the diamond and pearl set was missing!”

“Did you leave my rooms at all last night or this morning?”

The man shuddered. “Y-yes,” he admitted.

“When Jason, the footman, came and told me of the to-do up at the keep, I stepped downstairs with him to the servants’ hall to hear the news.

But I was only gone fifteen minutes, sir!

I swear to you! And . . . and then again, this morning, when I nipped down to the kitchen for some coffee.

I’m quite partial to that beverage in the morning,” he mumbled miserably.

Deveraux nodded. He closed the casket. “Did you check to see that the heirloom suite was still in the casket when you took the box from Miss Jewitt?”

“No, sir. She told me Lady Lucy chose the sapphires. I didn’t think. . .

“That’s quite understandable. Go put these away.

Afterward, tell Miss Jewitt I’d like to see my sister when she wakes.

” He handed the man the casket then sat a moment in silence, his fingers absently drumming a rhythmic pattern on his desk as he considered the situation.

What had the family done to spawn this unrelenting revenge?

It could not be anything else. And not for a moment did he think that the jewels' disappearance was unrelated to the other events.

The sharp sound of boots on marble roused him from his reverie.

He looked up through the open library door to see Fitzhugh and Turcott crossing the hall toward the morning room.

They were up early for a morning after a ball.

It was only nine. And Fitzhugh dressed? He shook his head in wonder and rose from his desk, slowly making his way toward the morning room to join them.

In the hall he spied Keirsmyth descending the stairs.

He paused to wait for him. Did the events of last evening leave them as troubled and unable to sleep as he? And now this! Jewelry theft!

“You appear distracted, Deveraux,” the marquess said, stopping him before the door to the morning room.

The corner’s of Deveraux’s mouth kicked up wryly. “Is it any wonder? Besides last night’s events, this morning, I discover that the Nevin jewelry suite is missing!” he said in disgust.

Both of Keirsmyth’s thin brows rose. “Am I to understand this is an important set for your family?”

“Yes. A tiara, necklace and earring set of diamonds and pearls, worn only by the current countess.”

“Ahh, not the jewels that adorned your fair sister last night?”

“No, though they were in the same casket.”

“And now this countess set is gone?”

Deveraux nodded.

Keirsmyth stared up at the ceiling for a moment, his lips pursed.

Then he looked squarely at Deveraux as he pushed open the door.

“And Miss Leonard, is she gone as well?” A cold shudder ripped through Deveraux, and a red haze swam before his eyes.

He grabbed the marquess's shoulder, halting him. “What are you implying?”

“I say, Dev—What’s the to-do?” Fitzhugh said, hearing the last.

He ignored him, his jaw set and his eyes glittering dangerously out of a dark face as he continued to stare at the marquess.

A slight, sneering smile curled up the corners of Keirsmyth’s lips. “I take it you are not a hunter, Deveraux. You leap too quickly,” he drawled.

Nigel’s brow furrowed. He dropped his hand from Keirsmyth’s arm. “You are not implying she is guilty, but that she is a victim?” he asked consideringly.

Keirsmyth inclined his head. “And an unwitting tool.”

“What are you two nattering on about?” demanded Fitzhugh.

Keirsmyth looked across the room at him, seated leaning forward at the table with a loaded plate before him.

Next to him, Turcott was actively engaged in shoving spoonfuls of food into his mouth.

“There appear to be more contretemps this morning to add to last evening’s entertainment,” he said blandly.

Fitzhugh threw him a disgusted look. He turned to Deveraux. “What’s he saying?”

“The Nevin jewelry suite has been stolen, and I believe he’s suggesting Miss Leonard is being framed.”

The marquess inclined his head in agreement. “There is, of course, the first step. . .

“Which is?” Deveraux asked.

“To ascertain whether or not Miss Leonard is still in residence,” he said languidly before taking a plate from the sideboard to load with food.

“O-o-o-u-u-t r-i-i-d-d-i-n’,” mumbled Captain Turcott around a mouthful of food. He swallowed and dabbed his handkerchief to his mouth. “Not here now. Out riding. Leastwise was at dawn.”

“How do you know that?”

“Saw her. Some fool left my curtains open last night. When dawn started letting light into the room, I got up to close ’em.

That’s when I saw her on a beautiful dappled gray.

One of yours, Dev?” He picked his fork up and shoved another bite of food in his mouth while he continued to regard Deveraux with interest.

“Yes,” he admitted, distracted. He walked to the door to summon a footman. “Jason, would you ask the young person who does for Miss Leonard to step down here, please?”

“Betsy Snivel? She ain’t here, sir. Said Miss Leonard told her to take the day off to visit her mother. Left a half-hour ago.

“Who is taking her duties?”

“Couldn’t say, sir. Shall I ask Mrs. Henry?”

“Please.”

“I think you’ll find the answer to be no one, ” suggested Keirsmyth, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Deveraux glared at him. “Well, what is it then? You’re acting so damnably smug!”

He waved his hand languidly. “Not at all. It has simply occurred to me—as it should to you—that the kidnappers must have a confederate from within Castle Marin. A trusted one, privy to all manner of discussions in the way only privileged retainers can be.”

“That possibility had occurred to me,” Deveraux admitted, scowling. He angrily grabbed up a cup and poured coffee for himself.

“Ergo said servant takes all opportunities—gleaned from an attentive ear to his or her betters and their peers—to discredit Miss Leonard. Why? First, she spoiled the kidnappers’ game by rescuing Lady Christiana.

Second, the family—and in particular yourself—shows signs of a decided partiality toward the gel.

What better than a two-stroke revenge? Miss Leonard suffers for her crime against the kidnappers, and you and the family suffer from having your trust betrayed.

Maybe henceforth, you shall ever be wary, without peace, uncertain who are your friends or enemies.

An uncertain, distasteful life at best.”

Deveraux nodded. “But to react to every stimulus, without planning, means what they have done has lately been impulsive?”

“Yes, and that I believe is the striking difference between their recent activities and Lady Christiana’s kidnapping. A very telling difference, I might add.”

Deveraux’s eyes narrowed. “Rash action breeds mistakes. That was a lesson we learned well on the peninsula.” Keirsmyth placidly sipped his coffee, though a slight smile hovered at the edges of his lips.

“ ’Pon rep, what’s the difference?” Fitzhugh asked. “Appears to me what we need to discover is who knew the jewels would be in your dressing room, Dev .. .”

Keirsmyth sighed, stretching his long legs out before him. “I think you will find a large number knew. It was common practice, was it not? And servants do talk amongst themselves. Rather than discover what people do or do not know, perhaps tracing their activities would be more beneficial.”

“Nigel, you wished to see me?” said a small voice from the door.

The men turned to see a pale Lady Lucy standing just inside the morning room. Fitzhugh surged to his feet, crossing to her side and leading her gently to a place at the table. She sat down gratefully.

“Egad, Lucy, you look like the devil.”

“Such a kind brother you are.”

“No. Looks like you should still be abed!”

“I should, but I cannot sleep, despite the tisanes and concoctions dear Sarah has made for me. My head is pounding, and my stomach feels like it’s on the high seas. Still, I refuse to take laudanum. I do not like the stuff. I guess I am doomed to suffer,” she said with a weak smile.

Deveraux grinned. “You always were full of pluck, little sister.”

Her eyes widened. “High praise indeed from my brother! But , what is it you wanted?” She shook her head at the plate of pastry Fitzhugh held out to her, her face taking on a greenish cast

“I wanted to know if you took the Nevin jewelry suite out of the casket last night while you were going through it”

She looked at him queerly, her brow furrowing. “Of course I did. You saw me take the tiara out yourself before you left, remember? What is the matter?”

“Did you replace the jewels afterward?”

“Yes, yes, of course, I did! Or at least Sarah did,” she amended, “before she carried it back to your rooms. Why? Don’t tell me they are missing! How could you be so careless, Nigel?”

“Me? What?”

Keirsmyth laughed. “Very clever indeed are your enemies.”

Deveraux frowned at him. He looked back at his sister.

“Would you ask Miss Jewitt to come down and see us, please?”

“Uhhh!” murmured Lucy disgustedly, throwing her hands up in the air.

“All right, but that better be all your questions for me, for afterward I’m going back to bed, and the way I feel now, I doubt I shall rise before tomorrow!

You’re all so sober and serious like this was a high court of law.

All you’re missing are your robes and wigs! ”