The Baffling Burglaries of Bath

by Leighann Dobbs

  The dog fooled Lord Bath, for he bent to rub Emma’s ears. With a yip of glee, the dog thrust her head into his wide sleeve. He yelped with a laugh. “That tickles!”

  “Emma.” Katherine tried to herd her pet away, but the pug refused to move. Her tail wagged a mile a minute as she buried her face even farther up his sleeve. “Emma, what is the matter with you?” Katherine grasped her dog around the middle and pulled.

  The dog squealed, grasping something in her teeth and drawing it out of Lord Bath’s sleeve as Katherine tugged on her. Why, it was his cuff! As the wide cuff straightened, some crumbs that had fallen into it fell to the ground. Emma attacked them with exuberance.

  Wry, Katherine commented, “She must be hungrier than I expected, if she’s so adamant to get at what has fallen into your cuffs.”

  “Oh dear.” He laughed. He straightened out his other cuff beneath his greatcoat sleeve. As he shook it out, more crumbs fell. “I usually try to ensure my sleeves don’t catch on anything, but I didn’t notice while I was eating breakfast this morning. How embarrassing.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Katherine said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m only sorry that Emma was so bothersome to get at your food. Is that a crumble of bacon?”

  “It well might be.” Lord Bath grinned, inviting her to share the joke.

  At least he was no longer chiding her for trying to follow her passion and solve this case when he did not. She collected her dog from the ground. “I should feed her before she finishes and searches you for more. Good day, my lord.”

  “Good day, Lady Katherine.” He rubbed his hands together for warmth.

  Hurrying back into the hotel, Katherine lingered by the fire to warm up as Emma shamelessly begged for breakfast. The serving girl promised to deliver a bowl of chopped meat for the dog straight away.

  The moment Emma finished her meal and Katherine felt warm enough to return above stairs, approaching footsteps warned her of someone coming down to meet her. Katherine crossed to the foot of the staircase just in time to block Mrs. Fairchild’s path.

  The woman sniffed, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders. Given the lack of outerwear, Mrs. Fairchild must have come down to break her fast and had no intention of leaving the hotel at this early hour. Katherine had time yet to plant the seed that would keep Miss Newcomb far too busy to pester Pru.

  “Good morning,” she said cordially.

  Mrs. Fairchild returned the greeting between gritted teeth.

  “How is Miss Newcomb faring in her attempt to emulate Miss Burwick?”

  Mrs. Fairchild scowled, her expression filled with malice. “This has been your aim all along. You’ve… you’ve paid the men to pay attention to your… hoyden of a client! And in so doing, you’ve managed to wrap me around your little scheme and ruin Miss Newcomb’s chance of happiness!”

  Happiness… or wealth and prestige? Katherine wasn’t certain what Mrs. Fairchild’s aim was for her clients, other than the fact that she was highly competitive and wanted to outmatch Katherine. Ordinarily, Katherine might be happy to let her do so, but not if it would mean Pru’s unhappiness. She genuinely wanted the best for Pru, and if that happened to be a marriage to Lord Annandale, then she wanted to do her part to facilitate that.

  Even if it meant tricking Mrs. Fairchild in order to ensure that Miss Newcomb was well occupied and give Pru and Annandale some privacy. And she knew exactly how to make Miss Newcomb more attractive to the prince. Pru had said the prince wanted a woman that didn’t hang off his every word. Her rival would never trust her, but if she couched her advice to help Miss Newcomb catch the prince’s eye in disparaging words or even discouragement… that seemed more the sort of language Mrs. Fairchild preferred to speak.

  She tried for a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound too forced. “Miss Newcomb will never be able to prove to the prince now that she values him over his title and money. She might as well throw herself at his feet and beg him to have her, for all the good it will do. She’s but one more fawning female in his circle, unlike Miss Burwick, who will have nothing to do with him. Yet who does he seek out?” Katherine tapped her lips. “In fact, it might be better if you and Miss Newcomb packed up and left town, what with the escalation of these thefts.”

  To her surprise, Mrs. Fairchild looked genuinely frightened. “I don’t like that a woman has now been harmed in the pursuit of these jewels.”

  Katherine softened toward her. She kneeled to gather her dog. Emma was only too happy to sit in Katherine’s arms and have her belly scratched. In a soft voice, Katherine confessed, “I don’t like it any better than you. I had hoped to escape more violence.”

  Mrs. Fairchild had nearly lost a client to the Pink-Ribbon Murderer. Although Miss Young had lived, she had departed the house party as soon as possible, a testament to her good sense. Would Mrs. Fairchild choose to leave with her client instead of pursue the match? Katherine had expected her to do the very opposite, but it would solve Katherine’s problem either way. And it would be one less person in town who might be hurt if she didn’t solve these thefts soon enough.

  “I’d half hoped it was you following Miss Newcomb around in a cloak, hoping to scare us off.”

  Katherine frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mrs. Fairchild’s shoulders slumped. “Miss Newcomb has told me that, several times when she’s out following your client and her would-be paramours, she has seen a tall figure in a dark cloak. They’re never close enough for her to see their face. After what Lady Dalhousie described…”

  “It might be the thief.”

  The woman nodded. “It might be.”

  The silence stretched between them as Katherine contemplated that information. Miss Newcomb had seen the thief. How often, and where?

  Mrs. Fairchild broke the silence first. “I don’t understand it. It makes no sense, to be honest. I would understand if the thief was following the prince, for he sparkles more than most of the ladies! But Miss Newcomb? She doesn’t even own a pair of earrings. She has nothing to steal.”

  Neither did Pru, nor Annandale. What was the thief’s motive?

  “Perhaps it might be better to leave Bath,” Katherine muttered under her breath. “Before it’s too late.”

  Mrs. Fairchild drew herself up and stormed down the rest of the stairs, past Katherine. “Not on your life,” she hissed as she marched past. “Miss Newcomb is getting her match, and nothing you can do will possibly interfere. That, I vow.”

  The thief seemed to be escalating, but as Katherine watched her rival walk away, one thing was for certain: Mrs. Fairchild was frightened, but not enough to call off this unspoken competition. Which meant that she would undoubtedly use the words of advice Katherine had dripped into her ear. Pru and Annandale would find the privacy they needed in order for Pru to realize that she had developed feelings for him.

  That, at least, was going according to plan — even if nothing else was.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Katherine next saw Lyle later that afternoon, her stomach sank. He didn’t look like a man who’d come bearing good news. In fact, he barely bent to scratch Emma’s head as she wagged her tail and ran to greet him in the threshold of Katherine’s room. With a sigh, she held the door wide and ushered him in.

  “No luck?” she asked as she shut the door.

  He shook his head. “I’ve heard word from or personally visited all my contacts in the area. A few have heard from Sir Hugh — in fact, the pawnbroker we visited the other day was sold a pair of diamond earrings. Sir Hugh wanted the blunt, not to retrieve the jewels at a later date. However, no one has been approached with any of the jewels we are searching for.”

  “The earrings—”

  Lyle shook his head. “Not on our list.”

  Probably the earrings of his mother he’d had in his pocket. Was that where he was going earlier in the morning — to pawn them?

  On the bed, Harriet paused in darning a hole in the hem of one of Katherine’
s dresses. “Do you suppose he might be holding onto the stolen jewels to sell them last? It would be very conspicuous to sell them now.”

  Katherine started to nod then frowned. She sat on the hard stool in front of the writing desk. “You’re right, but… Oh, sard it! How are we supposed to know which of the past thefts was true?”

  “Language,” Harriet chided her.

  Lyle didn’t seem bothered by it. Just as well, for he had taught her most of the foul language she knew. “What do you mean?” He crossed to the bed and perched on the end.

  Emma made a wild leap to land next to him, only to slip off the edge and fall to the floor once more. Absently, his gaze fixed on Katherine, Lyle bent to retrieve the pug and set her on the coverlet. She climbed into his lap instead.

  “Careful,” Katherine warned him. “She’ll have your pocket watch out in a moment.”

  That watch was Lyle’s pride and joy, having been awarded to him on the basis of merit for consistently solving the cases presented to him by Bow Street. He hooked Emma around the middle and perched her on his knees as he scratched her beneath the ribbon tied around her neck. She seemed pleased with the compromise.

  Katherine added, “There have been accounts in the scandal rags of ladies who reported their jewels stolen wearing them to recent events. Lady Carleton, for instance. They can’t all have been mistaken thefts, but that leaves us with a list of jewels that may or may not have been stolen.”

  “And a man who may or may not have stolen them,” Lyle answered solemnly.

  Katherine frowned, thinking of Lord Hugh again. Why would a man who had been adamant that he retrieve his mother’s precious earrings turn around and sell them a moment later? Because he needed the money, as Lord Annandale had attested. Those earrings had meant nothing to him beyond the value they represented.

  “I’m certain Lord Hugh was selling the earrings that belonged to his mother,” Katherine muttered.

  Harriet lowered the dress and needle onto her lap. “He still might have hidden away the other jewels. I’ve made friends with a young woman in the hotel who happens to have caught the eye of Sir Hugh’s valet. If you’d like, I can ask her to have him search the room for us, to see what he finds.”

  “That would be helpful,” Katherine agreed with a nod. At the very least, they weren’t sitting and twirling their thumbs while they waited for the thief to make a mistake.

  “What of the Juliens?” Harriet asked.

  Katherine pressed her lips together and stared at her lap, refusing to answer.

  “You said they were in the garden at the time of Lady Dalhousie’s theft. Mrs. Julien might be the cloaked figure you have been following, the one you think is the thief. It wouldn’t have been terribly hard for her to sneak down that passage unnoticed.”

  “I ran for the stairs the moment I heard the scream.”

  Harriet pointed her finger. “But you’ve admitted that you were across the room. There were multiple people between you and the door. Mrs. Julien might have hidden the cloak somewhere in the garden and pretended to have been there all along.”

  Tarnation! Katherine hated when her maid formed such a coherent argument. She didn’t want to consider the Juliens — in fact, she had been adamant to rule them out. Unfortunately, the evidence wasn’t allowing her to do so.

  Lyle mentioned, “They have a grandson, don’t they? Perhaps he might know whether or not his grandparents have been acting suspiciously during their foray in Bath.”

  Katherine sighed. She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and laying her head in her hands. The room was so small that Emma was able to stretch across the narrow distance to lick Katherine’s forehead. She patted her pet.

  “I am no longer close with Scott. We haven’t spoken in years.”

  “I’ve seen Captain Wayland speaking with him,” Harriet put in. “Perhaps they’ve become friends.”

  If he had been angry with her for considering the Juliens earlier, he wouldn’t be any happier with this new line in the investigation. It was time to discover precisely how much he meant his offer of help.

  Reluctantly, Katherine said, “I’ll ask Wayland and see if he’ll help.”

  “Tell me this is a joke.”

  Katherine jumped at Wayland’s biting tone. Even bracing herself for it, she wasn’t ready for the vehemence in his expression. She cast a quick look over her shoulder, into the hotel common room teeming with people, before she turned back to him. The moment he had arrived at the hotel, she had beckoned him into a nook at the end of the room. A door led into the kitchen, and from time to time, a footman or maid passed with vittles for the patrons. Otherwise, they were undisturbed.

  The heat from the kitchen climbed up Katherine’s back as she faced Wayland. “You said you wanted to help. I’m asking for your help.”

  He swore under his breath and turned away from her. For a moment, she feared he would storm out of the hotel. At the corner of the nook, he turned back to face her. “This is asking too much.”

  She lifted her chin. “Then refuse.”

  He swore again, so vehemently that it made the serving girl jump as she emerged from the kitchen. The teapot nearly toppled off her tray. Katherine helped her to right it, and after a moment, she scurried past Wayland without looking at him.

  Katherine said, “I’d rather not suspect them either, but I’ve found nothing to rule them out. If they have been collecting the jewels, they must have stashed them in or near their place of residence. Scott has access.”

  “Then why don’t you ask him yourself, Kitty?”

  She scowled, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “That isn’t my name. And Scott and I haven’t spoken in years. You’re on better terms with him than I am. You understand him better. He’ll be more likely to listen to you.”

  “This investigation has addled your mind if you think for a moment that I will make those poor people feel worse for being suspected of being thieves!”

  He approached her, cornering her against the wall as he spoke. Another person exited the kitchen, paying them no mind. Katherine swallowed. She breathed shallowly, staring up into Wayland’s forbidding expression.

  Softly, so others wouldn’t hear and come to investigate, she whispered, “You claimed to be waiting for me to ask for your help. Well, I’m asking, Wayland. If you want to help, this is what I need in order to solve the case.”

  He held her gaze and didn’t say a word. His nostrils flared with every breath.

  Her stomach shrank as she realized that she had asked too much of him after all. For all that he’d professed to want to help, he was in Bath for a different reason. She might have given away her hand, but he didn’t seem keen on pursuing that line of questioning.

  Would she have to approach Scott herself and hope that he didn’t shut her out? Or worse, expose her for a detective. Polite society wouldn’t give her entry into the places she needed to be in order to investigate some of the most puzzling cases if they thought her no better than a Bow Street Runner.

  Which, in her opinion, was a valiant profession, not that society at large agreed.

  Katherine shoved past Wayland’s body, breaking the strained silence between them. “Forget I asked.”

  As she walked away, she hoped that Sir Hugh’s valet was persuaded to search his room and find something, because frankly, she was running out of options.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The frigid predawn air didn’t do much to wake Katherine the next morning as she urged Emma to make water so they could both return to the soft, warm bed. Harriet had been snoring like thunder, and Katherine had been reluctantly awake when Emma had scratched on the door. The light of the moon inched toward full, shedding enough light for Katherine to see. The round orb seemed as bright as the sun, close to the western horizon. Once Emma trotted back to her, she had to grope her way up the stairs to the guest floor.

  There, she was surprised to find a light along the corridor. She scooped Emma off the floor and
held her to her chest while she hid in the narrow stairwell, slowly peeking around the side. A man exited a room on the far end of the corridor, holding a lantern. The light glinted off his golden hair. Was that… Sir Hugh? Where could he mean to go at such an early hour? Surely not to sell more jewels, as was his suspected destination when she’d tried to follow him yesterday. It was too early for any shops to be open.

  To keep herself from freezing while she took Emma outdoors, Katherine had pulled yesterday’s dress over her head and donned her pelisse. She was far from presentable, but with her bare feet stuffed into her slippers, she was dressed enough to follow. Her senses hummed as she wondered if this was perhaps the moment he made his mistake and she caught him in the act.

  She couldn’t bring Emma. That little thief would give away her position! Quickly, she stuffed the dog into her room and hurried in pursuit of Sir Hugh. With luck, this time Lord Annandale wouldn’t waylay her.

  At this hour, no one else lingered in the streets. They were as still as death as Katherine tiptoed after Sir Hugh. Although he was easy to pinpoint with his lantern, walking toward the setting moon, the rising sun at her back afforded her some additional light so she didn’t trip over her feet, albeit a thin sort of pinkish light. After five minutes, Katherine was certain they were moving toward the center of town.

  Church wouldn’t begin for several hours, yet Sir Hugh led her unerringly toward the tall cathedral. Was he plagued by guilt over what he’d done? Perhaps he was seeking guidance. As they reached the shadow of Bath Abbey, she slowed, waiting to see if he would sneak inside. Most chapels weren’t locked. However, he did not; instead he walked past.