Page 15 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

She glanced around, not seeing the footman, then stood and marched to the bar trolley.

She was probably bending societal rules, but Beckworth usually fetched his own drink, and she wasn’t in the mood to wait.

Let the men talk. Beckworth could handle the flak.

She glanced over the bottles, lifting the stoppers to sniff before she found a scotch worth trying.

While she poured two fingers, she ignored the women’s chatter and focused on the men.

“Littlefield isn’t doing enough about this, I tell you.”

Stella didn’t recognize the voice, so it must have been one of the men who’d followed Hensley into the room.

“I suppose you’re right,” the duke said. “But the constables don’t have the resources, even with the watchmen, to cover the number of parties that occur this time of year.”

“Have the thefts only been at night?” Beckworth asked.

“Yes. And, fortunately, there’s only been one other.” It was the first man who’d spoken. “It might appear that I’m overreacting, but two thefts in three days and both enacted in the same manner…I mean, it seems too coincidental to ignore.”

“Alfred is right,” Hensley chimed in. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any resources to assist, though I can send a few letters and see if anyone has returned to London.”

Stella picked up her glass and returned to the women without sneaking a single glance at the men. She felt Beckworth’s steely gaze on her, most likely wondering what she was up to. As if she were up to something all the time.

She hadn’t been seated for more than a few minutes when a footman stopped by Elizabeth. “Your carriage is here, Dame Ellingsworth.”

“Oh, thank you.” She got up, and once she’d straightened her gown, her hand went to her neck before she dropped it, her face masked in sorrow.

Stella’s heart went out to her friend. The necklace had been important to her.

Someone special must have given it to her.

Maybe her husband. Or perhaps it had been an heirloom from her mother.

Would the thief sell it right away, or would he wait until the constables or watchmen gave up the hunt?

Maybe he’d jump on a ship, since she was positive the man had been a sailor.

If he wasn’t one now, he’d been one at some point in his life.

And she’d guess, he’d been a sailor for a long time.

He could try selling the necklace in France or Spain.

Maybe he only had to go as far as the west coast of England, where no one would be wiser.

Or Ireland. She’d be interested in Beckworth’s thoughts.

“Stella? Did you hear me, my dear?”

Stella glanced up to see Elizabeth standing over her.

“I’m sorry. I guess that tonic hasn’t started working yet.”

Elizabeth gave her a long look before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for trying to help. It means a great deal to me.”

Stella placed her hand over Elizabeth’s. “That’s what friends are for.”

Mary and Flora stood, and Stella noticed the men walking toward them. Their meeting was over. Mary slipped an arm through Elizabeth’s. “Our plans were to attend Eloise’s tea party tomorrow, but if you’d rather, we can have a quiet lunch and tea at the manor. I’m happy to make our apologies.”

“I’d prefer that. I doubt I’ll be ready for much company tomorrow. And with no parties to attend in the evening, a day with close friends would suit me.”

“Then I’ll arrange something for the afternoon,” Mary suggested. “That way, you can have a long lie-in.”

The two women continued to murmur on their way to the front door, and Stella’s thoughts went back to the thief. She’d seen his face. If she only knew a sketch artist. Did the police use them during this time period? Another question for Beckworth.

B eckworth helped Stella into the carriage and sat next to her on the bench. She was in a pensive mood, her eyes unfocused, with little lines forming across her forehead. When she laid her head on his shoulder, he took her hand and stroked it with his thumb.

He considered conversation but sensed her headache was keeping her quiet.

Although that wouldn’t be enough to stop her from replaying the events of the evening over and over, wondering if she could have done more.

Whenever she overcame a dangerous altercation, she tended to go quiet.

She preferred to internalize her emotions rather than discuss them with someone—even with him.

Talk would be useless until she was ready, so he did the only thing he could do. He would comfort her through physical contact, letting her know he was there for her whenever she required it.

It was a short ride home, and she didn’t move until Barrington opened the carriage door. She placed a kiss on Beckworth’s cheek and exited the coach.

When she reached the front door, she waited patiently for Barrington to open it, and then she thanked him as she entered. Beckworth caught up with her as she approached the stairs to the second floor.

“I need a few minutes with Barrington, and then I’ll be up.”

She nodded, and as soon as she disappeared, Libby rushed into the foyer.

“You’re back early. I was just finishing dinner.”

“There was an incident at the ball.” Beckworth gave Barrington and Libby a brief overview of the events before Libby raced up the stairs.

Barrington followed Beckworth to the study and closed the door behind him. After pouring them both drinks, he asked, “What can I do to assist?”

“I’ll need you to watch over Stella while I go to the East End.”

Barrington sat back with a frown. “You think one of the crews did this? That’s rather daring, even for Chester’s crew.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I’ve been away from the crews for too long.

” He considered mentioning that Stella thought it was a sailor, but he had a hard time believing it.

Best to check things out first. “I’ll meet with the crew leaders.

This was the second theft from a society party in three days. An investigator has been assigned.”

Barrington snorted. “Only after two thefts? I assume it’s getting more attention since it’s aristocrats being targeted.”

“The duke is quite upset, so yes, the crews will be under more surveillance. They need to be told.”

“Will you tell Stella what you’re doing?”

“There’s no reason not to. She’ll want to know if the crews were involved, and if I don’t provide an answer, she’ll go looking for one. Mary is planning a late lunch for Elizabeth. Stella will want to attend.”

“I’ll make sure she gets there.”

The two men let silence fill the room as they finished their whiskey. Fifteen minutes later, the two parted ways in the foyer. Barrington disappeared down a hall that would take him down to the kitchen while Beckworth climbed the stairs.

Libby was brushing Stella’s hair, and their conversation stopped when he entered. Neither appeared guilty, though they were quite capable of schooling their emotions when necessary. However, this time, he assumed they were simply discussing the night in more detail.

Stella was already wrapped in her robe, and what little makeup she’d applied for the evening had been washed clean.

“Shall I call for your valet?” Libby asked.

He shook his head. “Not tonight. And I have an early day tomorrow.”

Libby nodded, squeezed Stella’s arm, then closed the door behind her.

“How’s the headache?” he asked.

“The tonic helped a bit, but I took an ibuprofen, so it should be gone in another hour.” She stood and helped him with his jacket.

“I can call for Jeffries.”

“Nonsense. The poor man is probably asleep already.”

“That poor man is probably happy to have someone to serve.”

“He can have you all to himself tomorrow.”

Beckworth sat in a chair to remove his boots. “A constable will want to interview you tomorrow.”

Stella tugged on one of the boots. “Why didn’t they ask me questions while we were at the duke’s?”

“They’re more sensitive when dealing with the aristocrats, and with you being a woman, they didn’t want to upset you.”

She barked out a laugh. “How demure am I supposed to be for this interview?” She lost her balance when the boot slipped off his foot but recovered before he could catch her. “Do I meet them at their office or station?” She waved a hand. “Whatever they call it.”

“The inspector will want to meet you here at ten.”

She set the boot aside and tugged on the second one.

“Isn’t that making your headache worse?”

She dropped the second boot next to the first. “A little. Let’s get those pants off you. I need to cuddle.”

He grinned as he unbuttoned his pants while she worked on removing his waistcoat and cravat. They worked in symmetry until he was naked and they were both in bed, snuggling under the covers.

“How’s Elizabeth? I didn’t get a chance to speak with her.” Beckworth couldn’t imagine the sorrow of her husband’s tragic death that the dowager was reliving.

“Not well. Mary is canceling the luncheon we were supposed to attend tomorrow. She’ll host a small gathering with close friends, so Elizabeth won’t spend the whole day alone.”

“I did hear that part. Barrington will be available to take you.”

“What will this inspector want to know?”

“Just tell him the events from your perspective.” He gave her a quick squeeze and kissed her ear. “I imagine there will be a great deal of frowning when you tell him you chased the thief.”

She tensed for a moment. “What about my dagger?”

“I gave the dagger to Barrington after you were safely in the coach. There was blood on it.”

“I thought I grazed him when he flinched.”

“I’m going to ask you to modify your answer to the inspector on that point.”

“You don’t want them to know I attacked first.”

He felt the giggle she held in, but all he could do was close his eyes, wishing he’d never taught her the proper use of daggers.

The fact she’d had no problem making the first move worried him.

“It would be more believable if you reached for it when the thief stopped and you were concerned he might attack you. It’s probably best if you don’t mention the blood. ”

She went quiet as she considered it and was probably revising her story. After a couple of minutes, she nodded. “I can do that.”

He kissed her temple. “Of course, you can.” He hesitated, then said, “I’ll be going to the East End tomorrow.” He braced himself, expecting her to want to go with him.

“You’re going to talk to the crews?”

“Yes. I expect whoever did this is either new to one of the crews and is trying to make a name for himself, or there’s a new crew in town.” He waited for Stella to repeat her assertion that the thief was a sailor. She didn’t.

“Let me know what they say.”

“Of course.”

She went silent as sleep took her. Beckworth stared into the dimly lit room as the fire faded to embers. He couldn’t shake the sliver of foreboding that touched him. He’d need to keep a close eye on her.