Chapter Eleven
Damnation! Caught red-handed—and by the last person on earth she could afford to be caught by!
Seconds dragged by like treacle in winter. Barrington didn’t say a word, but she could tell from the look on his face that this wasn’t going to be good.
Then Julia’s voice, saying, ‘Sir Barrington, where are you?’
Anna gasped—and in that split second, Barrington moved. Launching himself across the room, he pushed her aside and scooped the necklace out of the palm, dropping it into an inside pocket of his coat. Barely had it disappeared than the drawing-room door opened and Julia walked in. ‘Ah, there you are, Sir Barrington,’ she said in surprise. ‘I thought you were going to wait for me by the front door.’
‘I was until I suddenly remembered there was something I wished to ask Lady Annabelle,’ Barrington said, as calmly as though he had been sitting in one of the chairs reading a magazine. ‘So I came back and found her up and moving around.’
Julia glanced at her friend. ‘Are you feeling better, Anna? Your colour certainly seems to have returned.’
In point of fact, Anna’s face felt like it was on fire. ‘I am, thank you, Julia. It must have been…the tea.’
‘I’m so glad. I’ve always sworn by it as a restorative. Here is the information you wanted, Sir Barrington,’ Julia said, handing him a folded piece of parchment. ‘I hope it helps.’
‘I have a feeling it will go a long way towards solving the case,’ Barrington said, remarkably composed in light of what had just happened. He turned and gave Anna a bow, nothing on his face to indicate that he had just found her depositing a stolen necklace into the heart of an ornamental palm. ‘I’m quite sure I will be seeing you again very soon, Lady Annabelle.’
Far too soon, Anna reflected after he left. She had botched the job as badly as it was possible to botch it. She could only imagine what was going through Sir Barrington’s head at that moment.
* * *
In point of fact, Barrington had so many thoughts running through his head he hardly knew where to begin. Lady Annabelle Durst had come into the baroness’s house in possession of the missing sapphire-and-diamond necklace. She had been attempting to hide it in the base of the palm tree when he had unexpectedly walked back into the room and caught her.
Who was she trying to protect? An unusual question given what he had just seen, but in truth, the possibility of her having stolen the necklace had never crossed his mind. She had absolutely no motive and likewise no opportunity. It was also highly unlikely that she had simply stumbled upon the necklace and gone to the baroness’s house intending to return it to its rightful owner. If that had been the case, she would have given it to the baroness the moment she’d walked into the room.
But she hadn’t. She had held on to the necklace; upon finding herself alone, she had taken it out of her reticule and tried to conceal it in the base of the palm. A place the baroness would eventually have found it, though not, perhaps, today.
Obviously Anna hadn’t wanted the baroness to discover that she was the one returning it. That would have necessitated a series of explanations that would have been awkward to say the least. But having been caught red-handed, what kind of explanation would she offer him?
Barrington found himself looking forward to that discussion.
The next question was where to conduct the interrogation? He couldn’t do it at her home. Her brother or Peregrine Rand might be present, and possibly her father as well. Nor could he do it at his own house. If he invited her to call on a matter of business, it might raise questions in other people’s minds. But if she wasn’t calling on business, it was morally inappropriate for her to be there at all.
For that reason, as soon as Barrington got home, he wrote Anna a note, asking if he might take her for a drive in the park that afternoon. Being a lovely day, he suggested using the open carriage and assured her that, if she wished, his secretary could come along as chaperon. He doubted she would elect to speak in front of her maid, given the delicate nature of what they would be discussing.
Her response came back with equal promptness. Yes, she was available for a drive, and, no, she would not bring her maid. If chaperonage was required, she was happy to have it provided by his secretary, who had been very pleasant to her on the occasion of their last meeting.
Barrington smiled. Obviously the lady had already considered
her options. If she was going to speak in front of anyone, she clearly preferred that it be his servant rather than hers.
* * *
He called for her at half past four and was not at all surprised to find her waiting for him. She had changed into a carriage gown of rose-coloured silk, the lace bodice threaded with deeper pink ribbons. Her hair was tucked up under another of her wide-brimmed bonnets and she carried a white parasol trimmed with deep pink ribbons. She looked absolutely enchanting—and completely innocent.
Surprising for a woman who had stepped so easily into the role of accomplice to a thief.
‘Good afternoon, Sir Barrington,’ she said as she walked down the steps to meet him.
‘Lady Annabelle.’ He smiled as he handed her into the barouche, ‘Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.’
‘I assumed there was no point in putting it off.’
‘None whatsoever.’ Barrington climbed in and sat down in the seat opposite. She waited until Sam flicked the whip and set the horses moving, the clatter of their hooves making it difficult for the conversation to be overheard, before she began to speak.
‘I suspect you wish to ask me about what happened at Julia’s this morning without my family being present for the interrogation. Just as well, since I suspect you intend to ask some rather problematic questions,’ she said.
Problematic. An understatement to say the least. ‘Shall we start with how you came to be in possession of the baroness’s necklace?’ he suggested.
‘Ah, but I was not in possession of it,’ she told him. ‘I was walking by the French doors and chanced to look down and there it was! Lodged in the base of the palm.’
‘Really. And how do you suppose it came to be there?’
The look she gave him was comprised of equal parts surprise and disappointment. ‘Really, Sir Barrington, is the answer to that not obvious?’
‘Not to me.’
‘Clearly, the thief dropped it as he was attempting to make his getaway.’
‘His…getaway,’ he repeated blankly.
‘Yes. After he took the necklace from Julia’s bedroom,’ she said helpfully.
‘So he did not make his escape through her bedroom window, but came downstairs to the drawing room and slipped out through the French doors.’
‘Precisely.’
‘An interesting theory,’ Barrington said slowly. ‘And plausible, I suppose, had my timing not been such that I opened the door in time to see you removing the necklace from your reticule and carefully inserting it into the palm.’
‘Ah,’ Anna said, sitting back. ‘How unfortunate. Then it would probably be safe to say that you would find any attempt on my part to make you believe that I found the necklace quite by chance equally unbelievable.’
‘No. I believe you did find the necklace and probably by chance, but the question of import now is where did you find it?’ He sat forwards. ‘In your brother’s room—or your father’s?’
He watched her cheeks turn bright red as her mouth dropped open in an exclamation of surprise. ‘I cannot imagine why you would say such a thing—’
‘For what it’s worth,’ he interrupted, ‘I think you found it in your father’s room.’
She went rigid. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because Rand is still getting over his affair with Lady Yew and hasn’t the clarity of mind to plan something like this. Likewise, if your brother had taken the necklace, I suspect he would either have held on to it until things cooled down, or he would have arranged to have it cut into smaller pieces that he could se
ll more easily. That leaves your father. Who, as it turns out, had both the motive and the opportunity to take it.’
‘Motive?’ Anna snorted. ‘What possible motive could my father have had for stealing Julia’s necklace?’
‘The same as claimed by so many gentlemen of the ton,’ Barrington said softly. ‘Debt. In your father’s case, through losses incurred at the racetrack.’
‘How dare you! My father does not bet on horses!’
‘Ah, but he does, dear lady. And though he wins more than he loses, he did suffer an unfortunate streak of bad luck last year from which he has been struggling to recover. A necklace like the baroness’s would go a long way towards taking him—indeed, your entire family—out of dun territory.’
He knew immediately that what he’d told her had come as a complete shock. She’d obviously had no idea that her father had amassed such staggering debts, so the thought of him stealing a priceless necklace in an effort to clear himself had never occurred to her.
‘If what you say is true—and I am not saying for a moment that I believe it is,’ Anna said, ‘my father would surely have had other ways of raising the money necessary to cover his obligations.’
‘If he has, he has not availed himself of them. But let us not deviate from what we are here to discuss,’ Barrington said firmly. ‘The fact is, you came into the baroness’s house with her necklace in your reticule, therefore, I have no choice but to ask you where you found it and how it came to be there. Unless you also wish to be viewed as a suspect.’
He saw the indecision on her face and knew she was debating as to how much to reveal. To say too much was to condemn someone else. To say too little was to condemn herself.
‘Sir Barrington, if I tell you where I found the necklace, would you be willing to let it go?’
‘In all honesty, I don’t see how I can.’
‘But you heard what Julia said. She is willing to drop all charges as long as the necklace is returned.’
‘I understand that. But without a logical explanation as to why it was taken, we cannot know what the thief had in mind. At the very least, someone is getting away with a crime.’ Barrington leaned forwards so that his face was close to hers. ‘Someone took that necklace out of the baroness’s house, Anna. I need to know who it was and why they did it. Because if their intent was to incriminate the person in whose room it was found, it’s possible they may try again when they realise their first attempt has failed.’
‘Incriminate!’ Barrington saw the brief but unmistakable flash of hope in her eyes. ‘Then you’re open to the possibility that the person who took the necklace may not be the same person in whose room the necklace ended up.’
‘I am open to the possibility, yes,’ he admitted.
‘And to the idea that…foul play may have been involved.’
‘Oh, foul play has most definitely been involved, but who was the target? The baroness—or your father?’
His words fell into a strained silence. Barrington didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Anna was waging a silent battle with herself, struggling with how much she should say. Once she told him where the necklace had been found, there was no going back. The guilty party would be exposed and she would have been the one to expose them.
But did she trust him enough to know that he was only interested in finding out the truth? Or would her natural inclination to protect the people she loved stop her from giving him the answers he needed?
‘Anna, I’m not out to condemn anyone,’ he said softly.
‘And what you tell me today will stay between you and me. No one else need know.’
‘But you told Julia you would have to contact the authorities—’
‘I said that because I couldn’t allow her to believe that the perpetrator of the crime would be allowed to go free. Not until I have more information. But if you know something that can put me on the right path, I beg you to make it known.’
He held his breath while she made her decision. It was within her power to compromise the entire investigation. If she refused to tell him where she’d found the necklace, he would have no choice but to make accusations that would ultimately force her hand. And in doing so, he risked sacrificing any chance of ever gaining her good opinion.
Fortunately, something in what he’d said must have got through to her. With a heavy sigh, she said, ‘The necklace was in Papa’s room. Peregrine found it when he went to retrieve one of my father’s watches. The necklace was lying next to it.’
Barrington wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or remorse. ‘Was it hidden away?’
‘No. It was inside a small leather bag, but the bag was in plain sight.’
‘So the thief intended that it be found easily,’ Barrington said, his mind working. ‘Does your father know you found it?’
Anna shook her head. ‘Papa went to the country three days ago. He knows nothing about any of this.’
‘Then we have no choice but to wait for his return to ask him about it. Either way, you must prepare yourself for the fact that word may leak out about the necklace having been found in his possession.’
‘But it can’t!’ Anna said urgently. ‘Papa would be disgraced!’
‘I will do whatever I can to keep this quiet, Anna, but other people are involved and we have no control over what they might say. If the necklace was planted in your father’s things, someone obviously wished to make trouble for him. The only way they can do that is by spreading rumours about where it was found. All we can do is work at uncovering the truth as quickly as possible,’ Barrington said.
‘But if you believe him innocent—’
‘What I believe has nothing to do with it. Opinions are just that. To unerringly affix blame, I must have proof.’
‘Then find the proof, Barrington,’ Anna urged. ‘Do whatever you have to, but find it. There is no question that my father is innocent.’
‘May I point out that you were equally convinced of Mr Rand’s innocence when it came to the charges levelled against him?’ he said gently.
Anna sucked in her breath. ‘That was unfair! Peregrine lied to me because he believed himself in love with that wretched woman. The situation with my father is entirely different. He has no reason to lie.’
‘From my perspective, no one ever does,’ Barrington said softly. ‘However, I shall call upon your father when he returns and ask him what he knows about the necklace. His answers will go a long way towards determining where we go from here.’
She was silent for a moment, considering, perhaps, what he had said. ‘I want to be there,’ she said unexpectedly.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I want to be there when you interview my father. I want to hear what he has to say.’
Foreseeing difficulties she couldn’t imagine, he said, ‘I strongly advise against it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because questions will be asked that will be…uncomfortable.’
‘For whom?’
‘For both of you.’
Anna’s face twisted. ‘But if they help to uncover the truth, they must be asked. And I wish to be there to bear witness to my father’s innocence.’
‘Anna—’
‘It’s settled,’ she said. ‘I shall send you a note upon his return. And when you reply to it, I want you to make it known that I am to be included. Will you do that for me, Barrington?’
He knew from the stubborn set of her mouth that she wasn’t going to back down. She intended to be there to witness her father’s absolution. Well, he’d warned her. He could do no more than that. ‘I will do this, as long as you know that I do it under duress.’
She smiled, confident of having won the argument. ‘I don’t need your approval, Barrington. Only your agreement. Besides, I doubt there’s anything you can say to my father in my presence that will embarrass me any more than you finding me secreting a stolen necklace in the base of Julia’s palm.’
Barrington sat back and sighed. ‘I wouldn
’t be so sure about that.’
* * *
Anna was as good as her word. The day after her father’s return, she sent Barrington a note advising him that her father was home, and of his agreement to the interview regarding the baroness’s necklace. As such, when Barrington called at the house the following evening, Anna met him at the door, saying she had already advised her father of her intention to be present at the interview, given that she was as much involved in the matter as anyone else.
Thankfully, both Hayle and Peregrine were out, though Barrington thought he saw Hayle’s carriage pull away just as he arrived. What he might make of it, Barrington didn’t know or care. He was far more concerned with what he was about to find out from the earl.
In the drawing room, Anna sat down in the chair by the fireplace and clasped her hands together in her lap. Her expression was composed, but her eyes betrayed the nervousness she was feeling over what was to come.
By comparison, her father’s face was untroubled, the result of his being completely unaware of what had transpired in his absence. ‘Evening, Parker,’ he said as Barrington walked into the room. ‘May I offer you something in the way of refreshment?’
‘Thank you. I’ll have a brandy.’
‘I’ll join you. Sherry, Anna?’
‘Thank you, Papa.’
As Cambermere crossed to the credenza to pour the drinks, Barrington moved closer to where Anna sat. ‘This is your last chance,’ he said, leaning down to speak quietly in her ear. ‘Things are going to be said that will be difficult for you to hear. Are you quite sure you wish to stay?’
‘Quite sure,’ she said, though the slight quiver of her bottom lip told a different story.
Unaccountably annoyed, Barrington turned away. He hated seeing her like this. Hated knowing that the next few minutes were going to be even more difficult than what she had already endured. But there was no easy way of asking the earl what he must; while he wished there was some way of comforting Anna, he realised it was neither his place nor his right to do so. A fiancé or a husband could offer comfort. Not a man charged with finding out the truth about a crime in which her father might or might not be implicated.
Brushed by Scandal Page 18