The chill wind struck her face and she shuddered. He hailed their driver; he’d sent for the carriage fifteen minutes ago. While they waited, he wrapped his arm around her and drew her to his side. His warmth seeped into her bones, and she almost sighed with pleasure.
Inside the barouche, Justin clapped his hands. “Now, let’s review the details we’ve gathered.”
Magnolia nodded without hearing as Justin recapped their evening. When he finished, he drew his brows together.
“You’re worrying me. Perhaps I should never have insisted–”
She laid her gloved hand on his forearm. Electric pulses radiated up her arm and she sucked in a breath. “I’m all right.” Even as she said the words, she thought, I’ll never be all right again.
She quickly retrieved her hand and he continued, “Good, because I’ve arranged another meeting with Lady Sybil for tomorrow at noon. She would like to compare notes.”
Magnolia nodded. The barouche shuddered to a halt outside her home. The footman didn’t have time to climb from his perch before Justin was opening the door and assisting her exit. How had she never noticed how gentlemanly Justin could be?
He escorted her to the front door and lifted the brass knocker. Quinton, her family’s butler, opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter.
Justin lifted her hand and planted a kiss to the back. “Until tomorrow.”
He released her, turned on his heel, and bounded along the walk to the barouche. She was frozen to her spot. Life would never be the same.
Chapter Six: The Return
Justin struck the iron knocker against the Quinn family’s wooden door. Quinton answered and wordlessly escorted him to the library. Apparently his presence had been expected by the butler, or rather, by Magnolia. At least he didn’t have to worry about Mr. Quinn barging in and questioning his visit. Magnolia’s father was away from Bath on business.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled around the room. The library was an assembly of every collectable piece Jules Quinn owned. From busts of Chinese emperors to landscapes of cornfields, the unusual collection would impress any mind. Except for Mrs. Quinn’s. During her lifetime, she had regulated the pieces to the library because she thought them unfit to be anywhere else. Mr. Quinn had conceded, in his words, “to keep the peace.”
Justin stroked a whalebone carving of a walrus before taking a seat on a long settee covered in what appeared to be tiger hide. He agreed with Mrs. Quinn. The collection should be hidden from the world.
He leaned sideways and drummed his fingers on his thighs. What was taking Magnolia so long? He had news he could hardly contain.
Finally the library door opened. He swiveled and sucked in a swift breath. Magnolia wore an afternoon gown with floral accents across her bosom and a long, flowing green silk skirt. Aged lace trimmed the edge of the square neckline. Her hair was pulled back, exposing her delicate neck and shoulders.
She tugged at her gloves. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No worries, dearest. The view was worth every minute.” A red hue raced from her chin to her hair-line and he hurried on to cover her embarrassment. “I have the most exciting news!”
“You do?” She settled on the settee and spread her gown around her, folding her hands demurely in her lap.
Her proper decorum on the tiger-hide settee was a bit disconcerting, but he ignored the posturing. “Yes. Hesper— I mean, Miss Rotherham, came to visit me yester eve.”
She sat up straighter. “You mean after the ball? At night?”
His throat tightened. “Well, yes, I suppose so.”
She narrowed her eyes as if disapproving, and he tugged at his collar. The sharing of his news wasn’t going quite as he’d planned.
“Continue.” She gestured with an open palm.
“Um, as I said, Miss Rotherham arrived as I entered my drive. She didn’t even take time to settle in the parlor before she spouted out the news that her brooch had gone missing.”
Magnolia sat straighter but said nothing.
He settled next to her. “I see you don’t understand the significance, so I’ll explain. It means another theft occurred and it had to be done by someone in attendance at Tyrrel’s party, because Hesper— I mean, Miss Rotherham, was wearing the brooch at the time.”
Magnolia’s eyes darkened each time he slipped and used Hesper’s given name. The mistake of familiarity was easy to make. While attending university, he’d been invited to entertainments with the Rotherhams on numerous occasions. For two years he’d considered proposing to Hesper. He’d thought they held similar ambitions, but he’d been wrong. When the illusion was disproven, he’d lost faith in love until he’d reconnected with Magnolia.
So of course he slipped and used her given name in his excitement. He just didn’t like her very much.
His thoughts were interrupted when Magnolia said, “So this is further evidence of Tyrrel’s involvement.”
“Precisely.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Now we just need evidence. The conversation you overheard is a start.”
“But I’m not sure who was with Tyrrel.”
“It must be a close friend, because who else would have dared enter Tyrrel’s father’s private sanctuary?”
Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
He shrugged. “You are out of practice.”
She narrowed her eyes even further, and he shrank back against the settee as she stalked closer and loomed above him. He expected a reprimand but instead a smile twitched at her lips. “True. In your absence I rarely had need to practice my investigative skills.”
Did he imagine it or did she sound upset beneath her bantering?
“Yes, well, be that as it may, we will speak with Lady Sybil and see if she has any opinions about Tyrrel.”
She nodded. “And what of Hesper?”
“She has reported the incident to her father and the constable and promised to keep me informed.”
“Why did she go to you if she’d visited the constable?”
The air in the room grew thin. “She had yet to report the incident. I suggested the constable.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Oh, so she came to you first?”
“Is it hot in here?” He fanned his sweaty face and prayed she wouldn’t continue with her questions.
“Why would she do such a thing?”
“Pardon?” Would feigned ignorance keep her at bay?
“Why would Hesper— I mean, Miss Rotherham, come to you before her father or the authorities?”
He swallowed and wished the house would be sucked under by a weak foundation. When his desire failed to be fulfilled, he responded in a hoarse whisper. “Because I gave her the brooch.”
“What?” She sucked in a breath.
He lifted his chin and repeated it more loudly. “Because I gave her the brooch.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, whirled quickly, and made her way to the front door. She tugged on her pelisse and paused as the butler clasped the front doorknob. “We must not be late to our appointment. Come along, Justin.”
He grabbed his coat and hurried after her rigid form. Before his arrival, the footman had assisted her into the carriage.
****
Magnolia settled against the landau’s seat and put on her bravest face. She’d known for two years about Justin’s fondness for Hesper. Half the unwed males in their social circle enjoyed the ostentatious Miss Rotherham’s company. The only reason she remained unwed was because she enjoyed their attention… all of their attentions.
The landau jerked into motion and the awkwardness between them was like a living being. She would not have Justin feeling sorry for her because of her newfound affections for him. He could not help his affinity for Hesper any more than she could help her own realization that she’d been a fool for overlooking Justin as a potential husband.
Someone had to say something. She swallowed. “So what evidence do
we need?”
He pursed his lips. “Evidence? Good question. Of course, if we could place Tyrrel at the scene of the crime, our case would be a cinch, but without that I fear we will be forced to let him go.”
“Let him go!” Her voice rose several octaves and Justin parted his lips and tilted his head to the side.
“Magnolia, we both know that Tyrrel has friends in high places. Even if his ideas are a bit odd.” Justin shook his head. “It is the only reason he inherited his parents’ property after their deaths.”
“So the rumors were true.” She sounded breathless.
“That Tyrrel’s father disowned him? Oh, yes, quite true. One of the law professors at the university was given the case of repudiating the will. Of course it was presented as a hypothetical case during his subsequent lectures, but everyone figured out the truth and the players involved.”
“Tyrrel must have been horrified.” Magnolia laid a hand to her chest.
“He never acted as though he minded. In fact, he acted quite smug, as if he knew there was no real danger of him losing.”
“Well, he won’t get away with it this time.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m glad to see this enthusiasm, but what has your hackles raised? It’s not as if he stole from you.”
“No, b-but he, well, he stole from Lady Sybil and that is unconscionable.” She couldn’t add that because Tyrrel stole from Hesper, he had brought Miss Rotherham closer to Justin. That was enough in itself to stick the scoundrel in the gaol.
“While that may be the case, we must tread with caution.”
“B-but you said–”
He touched her forearm, and she swallowed. “If we jump too quickly, he may sell the pieces he’s acquired and the cross will be lost forever.”
She drew back. “Of course, and the cross is of paramount concern.”
His brow dipped. “Yes.”
The landau shuddered to a halt and the footman opened the door. Justin assisted her out and they walked side by side to the entrance, as they had just one day before.
The butler, Virgil, opened the door and escorted them into the library. Lady Sybil paced the bookshelves’ length, mumbling under her breath. After several turns she stopped, bobbed her head sideways, and blinked. “Oh, you’ve arrived.”
Justin stepped in front of Magnolia, and her heart raced at his show of protection.
“Lady Sybil,” Justin said, “are you all right? Should we call the physician?”
“I’m quite all right, quite all right indeed. It is just— well, you won’t believe it! You just won’t.”
Justin opened his palm. “Why don’t you sit and I’ll call for tea.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly sit. I just couldn’t.”
“Very well, then. What has occurred?”
She twirled in a circle, coming to a halt before them. “The cross has been returned!”
Chapter Seven: The Plan
While Justin spoke soothingly with Lady Sybil, Magnolia followed Virgil to the private sitting room that housed the golden cross. Rather than being shut away in the safe, the artifact had been secured in a locked glass case, which stood on a plinth behind a drape along the far wall. With the drape pulled aside and the candlelight falling across it, the cross gleamed with a rich glow.
It was taller than she’d expected, about two feet tall and one wide. The lower arm widened into a round housing, as if designed to fit atop a staff, but if it had ever been knocked around during its time afield in the Crusades, she could see no sign of it.
Virgil unlocked the case with Lady Sybil’s keys and handed Magnolia a pair of white gloves. She looked at her already-gloved hands.
“I’m sorry, miss, but my lady insists anyone handling the cross wear these gloves.”
She sighed, yanked off her own, and drew on the new gloves. With the cross in hand — it didn’t seem as heavy as she’d expected; perhaps it was hollow inside? — she tilted it back and forth, watching the gleam chase its shadow across the golden surface. Not being well versed in art, she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She held the object up to the candlelight.
“Open the curtain, please.”
Virgil obeyed, and she carried the cross to the window. The golden color shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, but with a hard edge to its shine instead of the gentle glow of fine gold. Perhaps they’d refined metals differently during the medieval era.
Magnolia narrowed her eyes and stared at the tip of the right-hand arm. A gash seemed to be cut into the underside, where it couldn’t be seen when the cross stayed in its case. As she held the end closer to her eyes, she rubbed her fingers across the gash.
Her heart hammered. She quickly replaced the cross and raced back to the library, still wearing the white handling gloves.
****
“I don’t understand.” And he didn’t. If the cross had been returned, then all his and Magnolia’s theories came to naught.
Lady Sybil sniffed delicately. “Mr. Blakemoor, it seems quite simple to me. The thief had a change of heart and returned the cross. The case is over. I see no reason to pursue a thief for something that was never taken.”
“But it was taken!” His voice rose and Lady Sybil pressed her lips into a thin line. “A thousand pardons, my lady. Perhaps I am more passionate about this issue than I should be, seeing that the cross has been returned to you, but you are not the only offended party.”
“I’m not?” She blinked rapidly.
“No. Several other families in the area have reported thefts from their homes, also on nights they attended balls. It’s just that your cross would have been the easiest stolen item to track.” He ran his hand through his hair. How had his case unraveled so quickly? Neither he nor Magnolia had shared the fact that they were searching for the cross. That led him to believe the thief had always intended to return the cross once he had what he wanted from it. But what could that possibly be?
Magnolia skidded to a halt at the doorway. Cheeks red and her arms flitting about her body like a madwoman, she gasped out, “It’s a fake.”
Lady Sybil rose and stuttered, “B-but that’s impossible!”
“Look.” Magnolia held out her hands. The white gloves she wore — not her own pair of buff ones — were coated in golden flecks.
“I don’t understand.” Lady Sybil glanced back and forth between them.
Magnolia waved her hands fluidly before her. “The cross was taken and a fake was returned to the case. By your own admission you never check on the piece and it’s usually kept in the safe, so the thief assumed you would never notice the difference, or not quickly enough to track him down.”
With a gasp, Lady Sybil dropped into a handy chair. “Why, I’m shocked.”
Justin stared at Magnolia and patted Lady Sybil’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, my lady. We will find who did this.”
Magnolia nodded, a wide smile lighting up her face.
****
Justin spoke in hushed, quick tones, trying to hide his excitement, as the carriage rattled around them. “We mustn’t tell anyone we’ve discovered the forgery.”
“Agreed. If the thief believes he is in the clear, he will be less diligent.”
“Precisely.”
They both paused, then at the same time shouted, “I have it!”
Magnolia covered her mouth even as a giggle escaped. Hardly her most ladylike moment, but Justin loved the effect.
Justin held out his hand. “Ladies first.”
She cleared her throat. “We need someone to spout off about a rare art piece, then hide and watch for the thief to come and steal it.”
“Brilliant.” She had just quoted his exact idea.
But then, it wasn’t the first time they’d both had the same idea at the same time, and his memories came unbidden. Once, as children, they’d searched for a baby bird’s nest, one they’d seen before but couldn’t remember quite where. Then, at the same moment, they had both blurted out the locati
on. He smiled. They had an affinity for thinking alike.
She tapped a finger to her chin. “Now, who can we get to help us? I would do it, but—”
“If we take on other cases, your involvement would be revealed,” he said.
“Yes.”
“So we need someone other than ourselves. We need someone flamboyant—”
“Pretentious—“
“Showy—“
“Audacious—“
“Unafraid—“
“We need Hesper!” Again, they blurted it out in tandem.
Justin wanted to guffaw but regained control before he did. Granted, it was funny, but it was no time to laugh at Magnolia and risk bringing back her chilly behavior “Hesper— I mean, Miss Rotherham, will help, especially after the loss of her brooch.” He noted Magnolia’s nostrils flaring and hurried on. “We need to concoct a believable treasure. Miss Rotherham spouting off about her father’s acquisitions won’t raise a brow amongst our circle.”
Magnolia nodded. “You are correct. But as you say, what would possibly entice the thief?” She paused. “What other items have gone missing?”
“Hesper’s brooch, Lady Sybil’s cross, Sir D’Amore’s portrait of Queen Anne, an urn from the Chinese dynasty—”
“How big was the portrait of the queen?”
“I believe Sir D’Amore stated he could carry it under his arm comfortably.”
“Then there is our answer. The thief is taking things that are easy to carry.”
“That does seem a likely scenario.”
She leaned forward and laid her delicate palm on his forearm. “Justin, I just had the most amazing idea.”
“Do tell.” Heat from her hand seeped through his coat sleeve and he struggled to focus as Magnolia shared her detailed plan. It was better than anything he could have come up with. Pride for her intelligence swelled in his breast.
“What do you think?”
The Case of the Missing Cross Page 4