“You!”
Lady Dalhousie pointed a bony finger at Katherine as she uttered the breathless word. She gasped for breath and touched her side as if in pain. Her maid scrambled to loosen the laces to provide the woman with some air before she fainted.
The moment she could draw a full breath again, she added, “I am dressing! You shouldn’t be here!”
Katherine glanced to the side in time to catch Wayland hiding behind the wall once more. If Lady Dalhousie spotted him in her undressed state, she might have an apoplexy.
“Get out!”
It seemed the old woman didn’t care at all for what reason Katherine had chosen to intrude on her abode. Katherine nodded. “Of course. I must fetch my dog.”
“That animal! Fetch my dressing gown, quick. Don’t leave the door open,” Lady Dalhousie snapped.
Katherine didn’t know whether the woman was speaking to her, the maid, or both. She opted to ignore both commands and drop to her hands and knees to retrieve her dog. “Emma, come here, girl.”
The pug crouched at the farthest end of the bed, the light glinting off her eyes. Did she have something in her mouth? The shadows were too deep for Katherine to properly tell.
“Oh! Here you are, milady. Terribly sorry.”
A woman gasped.
“No! Get out of there at once.”
The maid grabbed hold of Katherine’s arm and hauled her to her feet. Her cheeks were high with color, making her eyes seem unusually bright.
“Why don’t you want me to look beneath the bed?”
The maid dropped Katherine’s arm at once. Averting her gaze, she took a step back and mumbled, “I haven’t had time to clean beneath the bed. There is terrible dust there, I’m certain.”
“I must retrieve my dog.”
“I’ll do it,” the maid volunteered. She climbed over the bed to the other side to peer beneath for Emma. Katherine knew her pug wouldn’t be so easily caught.
The maid, on the other hand, was shortly to be exposed as a thief. She had nowhere to turn, and the way she squirmed informed Katherine that she was, in fact, guilty. All she had to do was corner the woman and force her to confess.
“Where did you say you were the evening that your mistress was attacked?”
“D-Down the corridor. Why?”
“Yes, why?” Lady Dalhousie added, her voice sharp. “What gives you the right to barge into my room and accost my maid?”
As the maid thrust her hand beneath the bed in search of Emma, the pug burst through the other side, carrying a white silk purse in her mouth. The moment Lady Dalhousie spotted her, she shouted, “You are the thief!” and dove to catch the dog. She caught the ribbon around the pug’s neck instead, tugging on the end until it unraveled. Thus freed, Emma bolted for the open door with her prize.
Wayland appeared to block the dog’s path. Despite her fondness for him, Emma refused to relinquish the pouch. When Wayland surveyed the interior and paused with his attention on the pug, she dropped onto her haunches and wiggled her back end, taunting him. He took the bait and reached for the pouch. Emma bolted to the other side of the bed.
Her eyes wild, the maid lunged to catch Emma. She succeeded in gripping the bag. Although the dog’s strength was no match for a human’s, she was tenacious and held tight to the bottom edge of the pouch. The maid yanked on it, her fingers tightening on the drawstrings. As she pulled, the mouth of the pouch opened, and out spilled Lady Dalhousie’s prized diamond-and-aquamarine necklace. Both maid and mistress ceased their squabbles, horrified.
Katherine drew herself up. She pointed to the maid, confident. “Emma is a hero, not a thief. She’s found the Burglar of Bath! Madam, your maid helped Mr. Salmon to steal your necklace!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
To Katherine’s surprise, instead of demanding that the woman be arrested at once, Lady Dalhousie burst into tears. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she lowered herself onto her bed. Wayland, who had squeezed into the room next to Katherine, paused.
“No, that isn’t true at all,” Lady Dalhousie exclaimed, sobbing into her hands.
Katherine frowned. That wasn’t the typical reaction of the elite upon discovering that they had been robbed by their servants.
Her voice muffled, Lady Dalhousie confessed, “She only became familiar with Mr. Salmon because I asked it of her, so she might steer his investigation appropriately. Agatha isn’t the thief. I am!”
Wayland exchanged a glance with Katherine, his eyebrows raised. He bent to retrieve the hidden necklace from Emma before she chewed off one of the strings of jewels or swallowed it by accident. As he held the necklace aloft, the pug raised her forelegs, begging for her new toy.
Katherine scooped her off the ground to keep her out of further mischief.
His voice dry, Wayland echoed, “You are the Burglar of Bath?”
Lady Dalhousie looked up from her hands, her eyes red. “Of course not. Don’t be absurd.” She glanced at her maid, who stood as still as a statue as she watched the scene unfold, as if she feared to so much as breathe.
The old lady confessed, “I stole my own necklace. At least, I made it seem that way. I hid it in the pouch beneath the bed and instructed Agatha to strike me over the head with that hideous sculpture she’d won in a card game from Sir Hugh one night.”
“I rather liked that statue,” the maid mumbled, almost too low to be understood.
Lady Dalhousie begged, “Please, don’t have her arrested. She was only doing as she was told!”
In the ringing silence, Emma stretched out her neck, nipping at the necklace Wayland still held. He offered it to Lady Dalhousie, who stuffed it out of sight beneath her pillow.
“Why don’t you tell us everything?”
Lady Dalhousie scrunched her nose as she beheld him. “It’s simple. My necklace is worth ten times the value of some of the stolen jewels. It is unique and beautiful, and yet I have to stomach the likes of Mrs. Oliver rubbing my face in her misfortune. I couldn’t take it any longer. The thief should have stolen my necklace!”
Perhaps he would have if she had not been constantly wearing it. Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off a mounting headache. How feather-headed did a person have to be in order to turn so green with envy that she robbed and injured herself?
Judging by the look on Wayland’s face, he thought the same.
Lady Dalhousie trembled as she looked from one person to another. She seemed to shrivel and draw in on herself. “Please, don’t tell anyone. My reputation would never survive!”
Baffled, Katherine carried her dog through the open door into the corridor. Where had she gone wrong? If the maid and Mr. Salmon weren’t the burglars… who was?
As if from a distance, she heard Wayland say firmly, “I won’t speak a word, provided you do not as well. Cease crowing over this false theft immediately, and no one need know the truth.”
What was the truth?
As Wayland stepped into the corridor and shut the door behind him, Katherine muttered to herself. “At least Lyle will be happy to learn of this news.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She tilted her face up to meet his. “Lyle’s invention worked, after all. The maid has small hands, and it was her print that was rendered on the sculpture. He can rest easy.” Shaking her head, she petted Emma. “Unfortunately, it brings me no closer to discovering the true thief. What have I missed?”
At the door to her room, Katherine paused. Wayland stopped her from entering with a touch to her shoulder. Sapped of energy, she’d forgotten he still kept her company. She turned to him, to find him wearing a serious expression.
“What makes you think you’ve missed anything? You’re brilliant, Katherine. I’m certain you already know this answer. The moment you stop latching onto the first idea that seizes you, it will all become clear.”
He held her gaze for a moment, his words spreading like warm honey through her extremities. Does he truly think I’m brilliant? She sai
d it often of men like Lyle, who had a quiet sort of genius that emerged in his inventions and his insights. But her? She had a passion for investigation and a stubborn drive to succeed. At the moment, with so little suspects left, she didn’t think herself brilliant at all.
“I’ll see you shortly at the dress ball. Good evening.”
“Good evening,” she echoed, still confused as he walked away.
As she entered the room with Emma, Harriet straightened from where she had been examining her choice of Katherine’s dresses for the evening. “There you are! What’s happened to Emma’s ribbon?”
Absently, Katherine muttered something about her having lost it. She couldn’t be certain if she spoke the words in the right order, for her mind was still on the thefts. Mr. Salmon must be the thief. She had discounted him because he had been with her during the robbery of Lady Dalhousie’s necklace, but that hadn’t been the act of the Burglar of Bath at all!
He had claimed to be with the Marquess of Bath during the theft of Mrs. Oliver’s necklace, but that was impossible. Wayland had spotted Lord Bath in his carriage, leaving the bathhouses. Not to mention, he had lied about considering the cloaked figure as the thief, for Katherine had already determined that she was none other than Mrs. Burwick, and she hadn’t even been there prior to this week.
Despite his ineptitude, Mr. Salmon had managed to gain Lord Bath’s confidence, something that made him all the more likely to be the thief. He could direct the investigation anywhere he pleased. The longer Katherine mulled over the problem, the more certain she was that Mr. Salmon was the culprit.
However, Wayland was right. She couldn’t go haring off in search of Mr. Salmon to accuse him. Lord Bath would never believe her if she did. She had to think this through properly. Before she pursued another lead, she had to eliminate all her current suspects so that she could prove to Lord Bath that Salmon was the only one who could be the burglar.
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
“But the ball—”
Harriet heaved a sigh as Katherine slipped into the corridor and shut the door behind her.
Sir Hugh’s door was at the other end of the corridor, not terribly far. How could she possibly eliminate him as a suspect? Although she didn’t yet have a full plan in her mind, she rapped on the door. As she awaited an answer, she dug out the old coin she’d unearthed from the hole where Sir Hugh had been digging. The old sculpture had originated with him as well. Had he been searching for this all along?
The door opened to reveal Sir Hugh in a half-dressed state. His shirt was open at the throat, his cuffs flapped as wide as Lord Bath’s, and he hadn’t yet donned his waistcoat or jacket. His eyebrows soared as he beheld her waiting for him. “Lady Katherine, how may I help you?” He didn’t sound the least bit in a helpful mood.
She offered him the coin nevertheless. “I believe this belongs to you.”
His hand shook as he took the coin, though his expression remained impassive. “Why would you think that?”
“I followed you to the King’s Bath the other day. I found this in the hole where you were digging.”
He swore under his breath. “I knew someone was following me.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “All I want to know is how you found that cache to begin with.”
Although his nose wrinkled with reluctance, he admitted, “It was a stroke of luck, to be honest. I’ve never been fond of Bath’s healing waters. I came here for the gambling, not for the baths. What else is there to do while Annandale goes for a swim but walk the perimeter of the baths?” He shook his head. “One day, I tripped. I dug up the offending article, which turned out to be that sculpture used to smash Lady Dalhousie over the head.” He recoiled, taking a step back. “I didn’t strike her with it, I swear on my mother’s grave. And I’ll have you know the only jewels I’ve sold while in Bath belonged to my mother. My father left the estate in such a sorry state… It doesn’t signify. Suffice it to say, I’ve robbed no one.”
Katherine opened her mouth to inform him that she already knew who had robbed Lady Dalhousie, but he didn’t appear to be listening. Muttering under his breath, he stepped back into his room.
“In fact…” He snatched something out of the drawer of his writing desk and returned to thrust it beneath Katherine’s nose. “There we are. All I got for those worthless bits of pottery at the pawnshop. And I doubt the statue would have gotten even as much as I wagered for it in the card game where I lost it to Dalhousie’s maid. What is her name… Aggie?”
Curious, Katherine accepted the slip of paper. It was dated the afternoon of Tuesday, September 10 — the same date and time that Mrs. Quicke had been robbed. It stated that he had sold a few old shards of pottery to the pawnshop for eleven shillings. For pottery that old, even broken, Katherine would have expected a much greater profit. But the receipt proved that Sir Hugh could not have stolen Mrs. Quicke’s jewels because he was in town at the time of the theft.
Shaking his head, Sir Hugh brushed a lock of blond hair from his eyes and confessed, “I returned to the site where I’d found those things, hoping for greater luck.”
“You might have it with that coin,” Katherine predicted. “Don’t sell it to a pawnshop. I suspect it’s far older than it appears. Find an antiquities dealer in London. It might just give you the fresh start you’re trying to achieve.” She raised her eyebrows pointedly as she added, “A good player knows when it’s time to fold.”
He held up the coin and asked, “If you think it so valuable, why are you giving it to me?”
Why indeed? Choosing her words carefully, she confessed, “Lord Annandale must see something in you to consider you such a stalwart friend. Don’t prove him wrong.”
As he shut the door, Katherine’s thoughts returned to the Juliens. With Sir Hugh acquitted of the crime in her mind, she still had one more thing to do in order to eliminate the Juliens from her list once and for all. She had to speak with Grandma Bath.
If she had to face that clever old woman, Katherine was going to need a buffer. She returned to her room to fetch Emma one last time.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As Katherine strolled into the square in front of Bath Abbey, the lit street lamp cast a halo in the twilight that glinted off the silver scrollwork on a carriage, which gleamed as if freshly painted. The barouche was empty, abandoned but for the driver stroking the matched team of horses at the fore. The seal of the Marquess of Bath caught her eye on the door and buoyed her spirits. Pru had reported seeing Mr. and Mrs. Julien climbing into a carriage with scrollwork such as this! Their tale might be true, after all.
Emma seemed just as eager to find the truth — or, perhaps, simply search out the marquess in the hopes that more crumbs had fallen into his cuffs. She pulled on her leash, attempting to approach the barouche. Katherine knew she wouldn’t find him there, so she reined Emma in to heel as they approached the cluster of people in the center of the square.
Despite the waning sunlight, Sir David Brewster worked diligently in the center of the square as he built an enormous apparatus. Although Katherine couldn’t tell precisely what it was at this stage, it looked rather reminiscent of a fat telescope to her. A young boy stood holding a lamp, his arms shaking as he hefted it over his head for the inventor to see. Lyle helped, conversing with Sir David in the absent way he did when his mind was more fully on a different problem. Should Katherine stop him to tell him that his invention had worked, after all? In this state, he might not even register her words.
More important at the moment was that she speak with Grandma Bath. The old woman leaned heavily on a cane as she oversaw the work being done on the apparatus in the center of the square. Although she smiled and exchanged a few words with anyone who passed, her attention was devoted to the invention being mounted on the cobblestones. For the most part, she stood alone, her grandson nowhere to be seen.
Perfect. With luck, Katherine would be able to confirm the Juliens’ story and leave without bein
g thrown into Lord Bath’s path as a potential bride. Once she had eliminated the Juliens, Lady Dalhousie’s maid, and now Sir Hugh as well, she would have reasonable cause to confront Mr. Salmon.
As she strode forward, her step faltered. Hadn’t Mr. Julien claimed to have seen Mr. Salmon strolling with Lady Dalhousie’s maid during the time of Mrs. Quicke’s robbery? Tarnation! If she managed to confirm the Juliens’ alibi, then she would at the same time eliminate Mr. Salmon as a suspect. Who was left?
“Oh, Lady Katherine, what a delight!”
Grandma Bath had seen her now, so she had no chance to reconsider this course of action. She smiled and approached the old woman. “How are they getting on?” she asked, gesturing to the inventors.
The old woman beamed. “Quite well, I think. Sir David says he should be ready to unveil his invention tomorrow at noon! Ernest is out spreading the word so everyone knows to gather here. If you wait a moment, I’m certain he will return soon.”
As tempting as that was…
“Actually, I have a question for you, if you have a moment.”
“Yes, yes, of course!” She reached out to clasp Katherine’s hands with a smile. Her skin was delicate and cool to the touch. “How can I help?”
“It’s about Mr. and Mrs. Julien. They mentioned that they visited you on Sunday, and perhaps you had sent a carriage to this very square to drive them to your estate?”
Grandma Bath retracted her hand and turned away stiffly. “I met with them, yes. But I’m afraid I cannot reveal the nature of our visit. That is confidential.”
Katherine smiled. She dropped Emma’s leash for a moment so she could take the old woman’s hand in both of hers. “That’s perfectly all right. I meant only to verify their presence with you.”
She scarcely spoke the words before Emma yipped and bolted for Lord Bath’s carriage, trailing her rope.
“Emma, no!”
The Baffling Burglaries of Bath Page 26