Page 27 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)
Stella, dressed in one of her simpler day dresses, sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, and folded the paper into a swan. A tray sat on one corner of the bed with a small coffee urn and a mug of cooling coffee. Crumbs from one of Nellie’s pastries littered a plate.
When someone knocked, she pushed a loose lock of hair out of her eyes and yelled, “Come in.” She finished the last fold and set the swan next to the others in the growing flock.
Eleanor peeked in, glanced around, then slipped in, closing the door behind her. “Bart’s been looking for you.”
She sighed. “I know. He wants to play another round of chess, but I need some time alone.”
“You mean Bart is in a mood, and you don’t want to listen to his complaining.” Eleanor sat in the closest chair facing the bed.
Stella quirked a grin. “I think that’s what I just said.”
Eleanor laughed. “I know he can be a cranky old man, but he’s not wrong in his thinking.”
Stella couldn’t argue. It had been Beckworth’s idea to get Bart and Lincoln out of the manor the night before, and based on their chatter on the way home, they had a great time at the East End party.
But the morning brought the stark reminder of the vastly different worlds Bart and Lincoln experienced at the manor versus the conditions in the East End.
And Bart had no qualms about repeating his never-ending outrage at the gap between the classes, made more apparent during the war. Bart should have become a politician.
She gave Eleanor a sly look. “Wasn’t it you and Bart I saw dancing in the firelight?” The musicians had started the evening with sweet Irish melodies, but as the drinking began in earnest, the tempo picked up, and the lyrics grew more bawdy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eleanor glanced around the room as she ran a hand over her hair and tightly woven bun. “You drank quite a bit of ale, so it’s no doubt you were seeing things.”
“Uh-huh. You’re still going to Mary’s for lunch with me, right?”
“I don’t know…”
“Stop, right there. You spend too much time in the manor.”
“I went out last night.”
Stella finished the last swan, set it in the pile, then gently moved off the bed so she wouldn’t disturb the tray.
“Yes, but it’s not the same as having lunch with the women.
Besides, I have some news from yesterday’s garden party, and after sending a message to Elizabeth, I think we might have a lead. ”
Eleanor picked up the tray without a word, but her silence told Stella she was considering her options. After setting the tray on a table near the door, she watched Stella place the swans in a box. “I have to admit, I’m curious about that. What are you doing with all those swans?”
Stella wiped her forehead and replaced a hairpin to keep her long bangs in place. “I heard the staff talking about a party they’re holding downstairs for their children in a couple of weeks.”
“Yes. With Lord Templeton on one of his long trips, the staff gets bored, as you can imagine. There’s only so much cleaning they can do with no one but themselves living here.
Anyway, it was a tradition the lord’s mother started long ago.
One day a year, the staff is allowed to bring their children to the manor and have a proper English lunch served to them by the footmen.
Then afterward, the children are taken to the music room where they can play games, and the staff are released from their duties to join them. ”
“That’s a marvelous idea. Why doesn’t Beckworth do that at Waverly?”
“He does, but not in the same way. You haven’t spent enough time there to see Waverly in all its seasons.”
Stella put the last swan in the box and closed the lid. “That’s true enough. It’s difficult. I love living in both worlds, but is it a good idea to go through the jump so frequently?”
“I heard Beckworth mention something about once every three months in your timeline.”
Stella nodded. “That’s the plan. AJ and Finn have expressed their concern, but Sebastian and Maire don’t see a problem.”
“Well, there you have it. I would think Sebastian and Maire would be the experts on that topic.”
Stella nodded and moved the box to a table. “Beckworth agrees.”
Eleanor stood next to her and stared at the box. “So, the swans are for the children?”
“Exactly. I wanted to make sure they were done before we leave for Waverly, and while there’s still plenty of time.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to forget.”
Eleanor placed a hand on her arm. “You’re a good woman, Stella. Beckworth was lucky to find you.” When the silence grew too long, she clapped her hands. “Now, I suppose I should go change for lunch. I don’t want to be confused with one of Mary’s staff.”
S tella and Eleanor descended from the coach as Agatha and Flora arrived with Elizabeth. Mary was already at the front door, her hands clasped together as she waited for her guests to enter.
When Stella met Elizabeth at the steps, relief swept through her. This was the first time since the night of the ball that she caught a flicker of something other than deep sadness in the dowager’s sharp gaze.
That spark of determination told Stella all she needed to know about Elizabeth’s response to her letter. Dame Ellingsworth was ready to fight back, and that could only mean one thing. Elizabeth brought them a lead.
The group, minus Mary, who’d wandered off after greeting them, followed a footman to a drawing room Stella had never been in before.
She’d hoped to be outside, but she’d known better.
White puffy clouds slowly drifted across deep azure skies, but the air was cooler than on previous days, and a light wind had picked up.
Though why they were in this room rather than in the solarium, she couldn’t guess, but Mary had her own mind about such things.
The drawing room was decorated with Mary’s typical, cozy yet elegant charm and was furnished in various shades of blue.
A table had been set in preparation with a sweet-smelling collection of garden flowers arranged in the middle.
They took their seats, everyone chatting about this and that, from the weather to the latest gossip.
Mary arrived ten minutes later and took the open seat.
“Lunch is on its way. I know this is rather unusual to have a meal in the drawing room rather than the solarium or dining room.” She waved an arm around to encompass the room.
“This is my needlework room while in London.” She winked at the group. “And Hensley never comes in here.”
That explained it. Mary was a smart woman who portrayed herself as whimsical and ambivalent to the politics surrounding her.
But she was always in lockstep with her husband, understanding his work, his needs, and orchestrating the household around that.
The two were never intimate around other people, but something told Stella that Mary carried influence with Hensley once they were behind closed doors.
When lunch was over and the plates removed, the group moved to a more comfortable seating area by the hearth. After a housemaid brought the tea service and everyone had doctored their first cup, all eyes turned to Stella.
She didn’t notice at first, adding a touch more milk to her cup after tasting the strong English blend. She’d taken a sip and placed the cup on its saucer when she glanced up and noticed the eager group.
“What?” Her gaze traveled back and forth over the group.
“Well, you’re the leader in this merry band of junior inspectors.” Agatha gave her a shark smile, which Stella understood was also her let’s get down to business smile, which made more sense in this situation.
When the others nodded that it was their opinion as well, Stella brushed her hands over her skirt.
It had been some time since her palms turned clammy.
The first image that came to mind was of kneeling in front of Gemini when Beckworth had given himself over in exchange for her.
A more recent moment flashed of Cheval grinning after he’d shot a crossbow bolt in his own sailor’s leg.
Her hands had turned to ice when he released the final bolt into the man’s chest. She blinked away the troubling sight.
That vision still invaded her dreams. Not as often, but it was still there.
She cleared her throat as she refocused on the harmless women.
The only mission in front of her was identifying a thief.
No crossbow required. She swallowed a hysterical giggle and launched into their discovery at the garden party that Eloise’s brooch, made by Deschanel, had been stolen right off her dress.
“When I got back to the manor,” Stella concluded, “I sent a message to Elizabeth, asking if she knew of other women who had jewelry made by Deschanel.”
“If it were any other designer, the list would have been much longer.” Elizabeth pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her pocket. “I could only remember a few.”
Stella noticed three names on the paper.
“Let me see.” Agatha wriggled her fingers impatiently, and Mary passed her the sheet. “Hmm. Yes, I can add two more.” She passed the list to Flora.
“I only know of two, and they’re already on the list.”
Mary studied the list, then her eyes shifted upward in thought before closing as she began to sway.
After a brief moment, her eyes flashed open, and she blinked several times.
“I’m sorry. I had an image of his work, but I couldn’t remember where.
A melody came to me, and I realized I’d seen it at a ball.
” She turned to Agatha. “It was a lovely diadem belonging to Lady Dorsey. Was that one you were thinking of?”
Agatha’s brows rose and her eyes widened as she sat back, her teacup leaning precariously on her lap. “I forgot all about the tiara. I’m not sure how, considering all the frenzy over it the first time she wore it.”