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R osalyn walked up and down the drawing room, her mind heavy with thoughts. Her friends watched her in silence, their own considerations filling the air. She had only just finished explaining all that Lord Waverley had told her the previous day and now, silence was their considered response.

Recalling how he had not only discarded what her brother had said but also, thereafter, had spoken highly of all she had ascertained thus far, Rosalyn could not help but smile.

Her brother had revealed his disinclination towards her bluestocking nature.

Lord Waverley, in response, had stated clearly just how much he valued her!

That had meant a great deal and she fully intended to tell him of her appreciation at some point in the future.

It had, in its own way, cleared the tension which had fogged the space between them, making her forget her upset and confusion.

This strange happening had certainly centered her focus!

“I think we must, at first, make a list of those who were at Lord Waverley’s dinner and, thereafter, the guests present at his…

unintended soiree,” Miss Sherwood suggested, as Rosalyn stopped her pacing and turned to face her friends.

“That way we might well be able to ascertain who could have done such a thing.”

Rosalyn nodded, though her brow furrowed at the same time.

“From my recollection, there were a few names that he mentioned that were from both occasions,” she said, as Lady Amelia reached to pour the tea for them all.

“I would be very surprised indeed if one of those gentlemen stole the painting, however. They are all wealthy fellows and could purchase any number of works if they desired!”

“Did you not say that Lady Whittaker was the one who mentioned the painting in the first place?” Lady Isobella stirred her tea thoughtfully as Rosalyn nodded.

“Then, might I ask if Lord Whittaker would be the first we might think of? After all, he was present and might think so affectionately of his wife that he wanted very much to take the painting for her.”

“That is certainly a good idea,” Rosalyn agreed, as the others murmured their agreement. “Though quite how we find out if he took the painting or not, I cannot be sure.”

There came a short silence again as they all considered this, with the only sound the clinking of silver spoons against China cups. Rosalyn was about to resume her pacing when Miss Trentworth spoke up again.

“Remind me of who was all present, if you would?”

“Lord Mansfield – though he did not linger for long. Then my brother, Lord Fairchild, with Lord Coates, Lord Stockton, Lord Haverstock, Lord Whittaker, and Lord Raleigh.”

“And who invited him to play cards at the first?” Miss Trentworth wanted to know. “Did you say it was Lord Coates?”

Rosalyn nodded. “Yes. Though according to Lord Waverley, he was the last to take his leave and had to be… encouraged into his carriage by two footmen. And that was only after Lord Waverley was woken by his butler, who, I think, was a trifle concerned that he ought not to help Lord Coates to his carriage without Lord Waverley’s instruction. ”

“So then Lord Coates was seen leaving the house and would not easily have been able to hide a painting!” Lady Amelia said, making Rosalyn smile briefly. “And Lord Mansfield, if he left earlier, would have been seen by the servants had he tried to take the painting.”

“It would be easy enough to confirm whether or not the painting was there after Lord Mansfield’s departure,” Rosalyn said, thinking quickly. “If we spoke to the butler, then he would be able to confirm when it was he saw the painting absent and about Lord Mansfield’s departure from the house.”

“And who might have been encouraging Lord Waverley to drink a glass of brandy here or there,” Miss Sherwood suggested as Rosalyn ran one hand over her forehead, her thoughts growing furiously. “If it is as you think, Rosalyn, then that might tell us who it was that drugged Lord Waverley.”

“Yes, indeed.” Lady Amelia sat a little further forward in her chair.

“Just because he does not recall anything of the evening does not mean that he was given this mixture, whatever it was, at the earliest part of the evening. He could have drunk it later on but the effect was so great, it caused him to forget nearly everything!” She smiled wryly as Rosalyn’s eyes widened just a little.

“I have been doing some extensive reading on medicine and the like. It is quite astonishing what only a few drops of some concoction can do!”

“Indeed,” Rosalyn murmured, as the other ladies looked at Lady Amelia with interest. “Might you do a little more reading on the subject, Amelia? It would be helpful, I am sure, if we had some notion as to what it was that he imbibed.”

“Certainly.”

“And I can speak with Lady Whittaker,” Lady Isobella said, reaching for her tea again. “My family is acquainted with hers, and I am sure I can find out something.”

“Then I will speak with Lord Waverley and with his butler,” Rosalyn confirmed. “Joceline, might you find out what you can about Lord Raleigh?” As Miss Trentworth nodded, Rosalyn turned her attention to Miss Sherwood. “And Eugenia, might you do the same for Lord Haverstock?”

“Certainly.”

Feeling as though they had a path forward, Rosalyn finally made her way back to her chair and sat down, reaching for the tea cup that had been set out for her some minutes ago. “I am hopeful that we can find the painting for Lord Waverley.”

“I am sure we shall be able to help,” Miss Sherwood said, reaching to take her hand for just a moment. “It is wonderful to know that he thinks so highly of us all that he specifically sought out your help! That speaks very well of him, I think.”

Rosalyn smiled softly. “Yes, it does. My brother, on the other hand… ” Trailing off with a wince, she let out a small sigh. “Mayhap this will help my brother see that being a bluestocking is nothing dreadful.”

“Mayhap it will,” Lady Isobella agreed. “Even if it does not, you have Lord Waverley’s support and his appreciation and that, I am sure, means a great deal.”

As the conversation continued around her, Rosalyn reflected on what her friends had said regarding Lord Waverley.

It was quite true, she was grateful for his appreciation of her and for his request for her aid; it not only lifted her heart but also made her own consideration of him grow all the more.

She smiled to herself as she recalled his determination to ask her to help him, in clear defiance of what her brother had said.

He was a gentleman of excellent character, she knew that full well.

A faint heat began to curl in her stomach as she recalled how he had smiled at her when she had agreed to help him. There had been a fierce light dawning in his expression, making his green eyes like emeralds. She had seen that light in them before, when they had danced the waltz together.

I did like that very much.

“Rosalyn?”

“Mmm?” Looking up, she saw each and every face looking back at her expectantly, her embarrassment growing swiftly. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought. Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

Lady Amelia chuckled and shook her head. “It was only to ask whether or not you thought we should ask Lord Albury for his assistance also, it was of no great importance.”

“Oh, but of course, if you wish.” Rosalyn smiled quickly, aware that she was sounding a little overly enthusiastic in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.

“I think I shall return home now, if you would all excuse me. There is much I must share with Lord Waverley and he is, at present, in the company of my brother.” She did not miss the knowing look that was sent between Miss Sherwood and Lady Isobella but, choosing not to take note of it or make any sort of remark, she rose to her feet and took her leave.

All the same, Rosalyn could not deny that there was a growing and somewhat fervent desire to be back in Lord Waverley’s company again, though quite where that came from, she could not say.

Telling herself that it came only from a desire to bring this mystery to a close, she shook off any lingering thoughts and made her way to the carriage.

“Rosalyn.”

Seeing Lord Waverley on his feet as she entered the drawing room, Rosalyn’s eyebrows rose. “Are you about to take your leave, Waverley?”

“I am, yes.” He gave her a small smile as her brother remained in his chair, though it did not linger.

“The painting was stolen only yesterday morning, and alas, today the rumors about me have already begun in earnest. I came to discuss the matter with your brother, wondering if I ought to refrain from entering society entirely.”

“Oh no, surely not!” Rosalyn exclaimed, coming a little further into the room.

“To hide yourself away would only do more damage to your reputation, would it not? For then who would be there to defend you? The rumors will only grow in number, the whispers spreading all the more, and you will be left without any good in your character whatsoever!”

Lord Fairchild cleared his throat, one eyebrow lifting. “That is precisely what I said, more or less.”

Rosalyn glanced at him but then looked away, still struggling with what he had said about her the previous day. “I am glad to hear it. You are not going to stay back from society again, are you?”

Lord Waverley hesitated but then lifted his shoulders before letting them fall. “I have some more thinking to do. That is all.”

That made her heart sink. “Let me walk with you to your carriage, and you can tell me about your thoughts at present.” Without him even offering, Rosalyn took his arm and they walked from the room.

She did not even let herself acknowledge the thrill that ran up her spine as they did so, for they had walked like this on many an occasion, and she had never felt such a thing as this before!

“The truth is, Rosalyn, I feel myself partially responsible for what took place,” he said, glancing at her as they walked slowly through the hallway. “I was foolish enough to go to play cards with the other gentlemen after all.”

“But there is nothing foolish about playing cards!” she exclaimed, looking up at him. “Yes, your father played cards, and yes, he did not do well, but that does not mean that you are of the same ilk!”

One side of Lord Waverley’s mouth pulled upwards. “You are always so good, Rosalyn. Always trying to defend me.”

“That is because I know your character,” she answered stoutly. “And the rest of the ton should as well. They should know you for who you are, not for who they think you are, Waverley.”

He said nothing but instead, stopped walking, turned, and looked down into her eyes, his hands reaching out to catch hers.

Rosalyn looked up at him, her breath hitching at the look in his eyes.

She had never seen such a look before, nor could she understand what precisely it was he felt.

There was a softness there, a gentleness that seemed to reach out towards her, pulling her towards him with an ever-increasing strength.

Her mouth went dry, her heart thumping wildly as she felt the urge to lean into him, to put her arms around him and let him hold her tightly.

“I did not ever mean to upset you, my dear Rosalyn.” The quietness of her voice made her shiver lightly, hearing the tenderness there. “Whatever my mother said to you, it was not meant to cause pain.”

She blinked as she tried to understand what it was he was speaking of. Her mind was so clouded by her feelings that it was difficult to pull herself out of that fog.

“I am touched by the way you see me,” he continued, when she said nothing.

“To know that you view me as family means a great deal. My heart is profoundly grateful to you for that, Rosalyn. Do not think for a moment, I beg you, that I do not feel the same way. I have a great fondness for you and an ever-deepening appreciation for our bond. Though I may not view you as I would a sister, that does not mean that there is no strength of affection there. It is only to say that… ” Taking his hand from hers, he paused, then lifted his fingers to brush a tendril of hair back from her ear, making her shudder with both the astonishment of his action but also the feeling it evoked.

“It is only to say that I have more in my heart for you than I think I could express.” Pulling his hand back, he shook his head and then dropped it to his side, a slow breath escaping from him.

“Besides which,” he finished, a hint of a smile brushing his lips, “I have no sister. So I suppose I could not fully understand what it is you speak of.”

Rosalyn did not know how to respond to this.

She swallowed once, twice and then opened her mouth but no words came.

This moment, this gentle brush of his fingers against her skin had brought something to the fore that she could not understand.

It was as if a wave had towered over her and then come crashing down, sweeping her away.

“I shall think on all that has been said between myself and your brother.” Lord Waverley stepped back from her entirely, putting a space between them that had not been there before and Rosalyn felt it, a cold chill beginning a slow descent down her frame.

“Thank you for your advice also, Rosalyn. I know that I should force myself to return to society but the truth is, I am beginning to believe that it will not be worthwhile.”

“I – I should miss you if you were to hide yourself away.” Her voice was hoarse, perhaps an outward expression of all that she felt but Lord Waverley did not seem to notice. Instead he put one hand to his heart, and, with a slight lift of his lips, he inclined his head.

“Then mayhap that shall be what forces my return,” he said, quietly. “Good afternoon, Rosalyn.”

“Good afternoon.” It was a whisper and nothing more, her heart beating wildly as she watched him walk away.

She had forgotten all about the painting, about what she was meant to ask him about speaking with the butler.

Even now, the painting did not seem to have any great value any longer, pushed away by the emotions whirling through her.

It was all so very strange and, Rosalyn considered, pressing one hand to her forehead, perhaps even a trifle concerning.