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“I cannot say for certain,” Lady Rosalyn said, slowly, her eyes thoughtful.

“What I would say is that she was mostly interested in making sure that the other guests knew of her knowledge of the painting, rather than being interested in the painting itself.” A few lines drew themselves over her forehead.

“Was Lady Whittaker at your house last evening, then? I presume this was after the ball.”

Heat rose in Phillip’s face. “No, she was not,” he answered, quickly.

“I did not have any ladies present, only gentlemen.” Aware that he would have to tell her the truth at some point, he glanced at Lord Fairchild.

“Your brother, as well as some other acquaintances, came to my townhouse once we had finished playing cards at the ball. I am afraid I cannot give you any particular details about what happened thereafter. I awoke to the butler informing me that both the dining room and drawing room would need to be set to rights before my mother rose to break her fast.” He watched as her eyebrows rose even higher, only for color to flood her cheeks as she looked away from him.

Shame coiled like a snake in his belly, threatening to strike at him with even greater mortification at any moment.

Here he was, telling the lady who had done nothing but defend him and support him in these last few weeks in London that he had acted without sense and, in doing so, had lost something valuable.

“I can say a good deal more,” Lord Fairchild said, directing his words to his sister. “I confess that I am a little surprised you do not remember anything, Waverley. You were not imbibing that much!”

Phillip blinked, surprise filling him. “Are you sure? I do recall a glass or two of brandy being offered me.”

“Yes, yes, I am quite sure.” Lord Fairchild frowned, rubbing one hand over his chin. “That is why I say I am surprised, for I would have expected you to recall more than I!”

“Unless,” Lady Rosalyn said, slowly, “this was part of a plan.”

Unsure as to what she was saying, Phillip looked back at her quickly. “What do you mean?”

Her brow furrowed. “I am not at all suggesting that I have the right answers and I might well be wrong in what I am saying but, given what we know of you, Waverley, my brother’s surprise is quite understandable. You are not the sort to lose yourself in liquor.”

Phillip closed his eyes and sighed. “Except I was not in the best frame of mind last evening, Rosalyn. I had something of a disastrous evening and was thinking of returning home. When Lord Coates came to ask me to play cards, I hesitated given the reputation of my late father but, hearing Lady Billington directing her fierce words towards me again, I decided to accept his offer. Given the weight of my heart and mind, I confess that I would not be in the least bit astonished if I had , in fact, given in to drinking more than I ought.”

Lady Rosalyn did not immediately respond. Her eyes searched his, perhaps aware that something of what he spoke of had been the strange conversation between them both. Then, she gave him a small smile and shook her head.

“Let us say that you were not as foolish as you believe yourself to be,” she said, with a light gleam in her eye. “Let us say that you did not drink as much as you believe you did. Why, then, would you have no recollection of what took place?”

Lord Fairchild’s swift intake of breath spoke of his understanding at the very same time as Phillip’s mind took a hold of it also. “My dear sister, are you suggesting that someone administered something to Waverley?”

“It is a possibility, is it not? Someone who wanted to take the painting and found themselves with ample opportunity?”

Immediately, Lord Fairchild shook his head.

“No, that cannot be. We were all in the same rooms together, of that I am quite sure. Lord Mansfield left very quickly, determining to make his way to Lord Lymington’s abode for his card game.

No-one else left.” He frowned hard, his eyes going to the floor at his feet as he tried to remember something.

“Wait. When I settled into a chair in the drawing room – the place I woke from, I confess – I do not remember seeing you present. Everyone else was there but you were not.”

Phillip swallowed hard, wishing that he could remember more of the evening. “The butler informed me that I was taken to my bedchamber from the library.”

“The library?” Lady Rosalyn’s lips curved, a spark of humor in her eyes. “You wished to read despite your guests?”

The laugh caught in his throat as Lady Rosalyn’s expression changed in a single second, her eyes rounding, her hand flinging out towards him. “Wait a moment!”

Phillip’s stomach twisted. “What is it?”

For a few seconds, she did not speak, only to nod quickly as if she had silently determined something. “You said a few minutes ago that the butler had to set the drawing room and dining room to rights, did you not?”

“He did.”

“And yet,” Lady Rosalyn said, speaking quickly now, “you were found in the library. Did he mention that the library itself would require any attention?”

Phillip shook his head, holding her gaze as he began to understand her quick thinking.

“Then I think you must first ascertain whether or not the library was in as bad a state as the other rooms,” she continued, her voice firm as she sat forward on the edge of her chair.

“If it was not, then there is a reason that you were found there while your other guests were in the drawing room and dining room.”

The realization that he might well have been drugged in some way sent a cold shiver down Phillip’s spine. He swallowed once, twice and then, putting his elbows on his knees, sank his head into his hands.

“I will be able to help you, I am sure,” Lord Fairchild murmured, though that instantly made Phillip lift his head. “I will do whatever I can to return your painting to you. I know it is worth a good deal and you will not want it to remain lost!”

Phillip, rather than acknowledging this, looked to Lady Rosalyn.

She was gazing at her brother and the sadness in her eyes was obvious.

It mayhap had not been Lord Fairchild’s intention to exclude her but he had done so nonetheless, making out as though she was not worth including in this difficulty.

“Rosalyn?”

When she looked at him, Phillip was sure he saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“You will help me also, will you not?”

In an instant, a big, bright, beautiful smile spread right across the lady’s face, the dampness in her eyes receding. “Of course, if you should like me to.”

“I do, very much,” he told her, seeing, out of the corner of his eye, Lord Fairchild frown.

“You were the one to suggest that there was more than just liquor involved. You were the one who saw the concern around the library. You have a sharp mind, Rosalyn, I have always known it. If you will help me, then I shall be forever grateful.”

“Then I should be delighted,” she answered, her smile still as bright as before. “Might I tell my friends of this situation also? They are very discreet and will be able to offer their own thoughts.”

“The bluestocking book club?” Lord Fairchild was the one to speak first, a hint of a sneer in his voice. “I do not think that they need know anything about this!”

A curl of anger filled Phillip’s heart. “I would heartily disagree,” he said, firmly as Lady Rosalyn tilted her chin up just a little, in clear defiance of her brother’s remarks.

“I think you are remarkable, Rosalyn, and if your friends are anything like you then I shall be very glad to have you all supporting me in this.”

“Then you shall have us all,” she said, softly. “Thank you, Waverley. This means a great deal to me.”

“It is I who ought to thank you,” he answered, honestly. “I am sure we shall, together, find the truth about this painting.”