She complied — he suspected because she had to — but her accents were clipped when she tersely informed him, "I'm sure it's not Anne. Or Emily, for that matter."
He felt a little of the icy tension seep away, felt the vise ease a notch. "Why? Tell me."
She hesitated, then said, "I'm not a mind reader, but I'm not hopeless at judging people and their reactions either. Anne was truly surprised, totally puzzled over the quizzing glass being in her reticule. She hadn't known it was there — I'm sure she didn't recognize it, meaning she literally had never seen it before. Anne's shy — she's not experienced enough to hide her feelings. And the most telling fact of all was that she didn't need to give Emily the reticule — she could easily have said it wasn't there, or she'd look it out later, or… a host of things."
Luc struggled through her words, then admitted, "I'm lost — explain."
She did, sitting in his lap within the circle of his arms.
When she finished, she sat still, waited…
After some moments, he forced himself to take a tight breath. "Are you sure…?"
"Yes." She looked into his face, held his gaze. "I'm quite certain that whoever took that quizzing glass, it wasn't Anne or Emily."
He tried to find some wavering in the steady blue of her eyes. "You're not just saying that…?" He gestured with one hand; even though it was behind her back, she understood.
The stubborn set of her chin and lips softened. She laid a hand against his cheek. "I might" — she paused, then continued—"turn a blind eye to some things if I thought it was in your best interests, that it would help you or our family, but this…" She shook her head; her eyes held his. "Telling you it wasn't Anne when it was wouldn't help, and might instead lead to a great deal more harm."
Her words sank into him, slowly eased the vise open, let his blood flow again and warm him, driving away the chill.
He drew a deep breath. "You're sure." No question; the answer was in her eyes.
She nodded. "Not Anne. Not Emily."
He let the knowledge buoy him for a heartbeat, then asked, "If not them, then who? How did this" — he lifted the quizzing glass—"get into Anne's reticule?"
Amelia looked at the glass. "I don't know — and that's what truly worries me."
The luncheon gong summoned them from the study fifteen minutes later. They left the room together, leaving the quizzing glass in a locked chest.
Amelia checked her reflection in the mirror in the front hall, cast a quick glance around, then tugged her bodice properly into place.
Luc fought to keep his lips straight; the look she shot him as she turned and caught him doing so suggested he hadn't succeeded.
The dining room quickly filled. After seeing Amelia to her chair, Luc strolled the length of the table to his place at its head. The meal passed swiftly; the usual chatter prevailed. He watched Anne; for the most part, she kept her eyes cast down, answering any questions but with a frankly distant air. Her expression was serious, she volunteered nothing, but Lucifer and Phyllida were present; Anne's behavior could simply be due to her shyness.
He wondered if he should speak with her… unfortunately, both she and Emily regarded him with a certain awe, quite different to how Portia and Penelope reacted. Any questions from him might totally undermine Anne's confidence.
On his left, Lucifer sat back. "If it's convenient, I wouldn't mind going over those investments with you this afternoon."
Luc hesitated, then nodded. Amelia and Phyllida were making arrangements to visit the village; they'd doubtless take Emily and Anne with them. Portia, Penelope, and Miss Pink were heading off for a ramble to the folly; his mother would, as she usually did, rest through the afternoon.
Setting down his napkin, he pushed back his chair and looked at Lucifer. "No time like the present."
Lucifer grinned. Together they rose, strolled up the room, both, entirely independently, putting out a hand to their respective ladies' shoulders as they passed. Both Amelia and Phyllida looked up with identical, confident, wifely smiles, then went back to their arranging.
Luc and Lucifer quietly left the room.
"Where's Anne?" Amelia asked when she and Phyllida met Emily in the stables.
"She's gone to Lyddington Manor to visit Fiona — she'd forgotten she'd said she would."
Amelia digested that while they mounted. The Manor wasn't far; Anne would be safe there. Remembering Fiona's bubbling presence in London, and how it had helped Anne cope with the ton, Amelia was happy to see the friendship remain strong.
She, Phyllida, and Emily indulged in a quick gallop to shake the fidgets from their mounts, then settled to a more comfortable amble along the lane to Lyddington. The day was fine, the sun warm on their faces. Birds trilled and swooped. All seemed right within their world.
In the village, they left their horses at the inn and wandered the green, then repaired to the bakery to purchase some pastries. They consumed the delicious morsels on the seat in the sun, then simply sat and mused about life. About children. At Amelia's behest, Phyllida brought her up to date on her sons' development; Aidan and Evan were growing apace.
"They're scamps. I know they're quite safe at the Manor, but…" Phyllida gazed down the green, into the distance. "I do miss them." Smiling, she glanced at Amelia. "Mind you, I'm quite sure Papa, Jonas, and Sweetie will have spoiled them dreadfully by the time we get back."
Her gaze moving past Amelia, Phyllida murmured, "We've company. Who's this?"
It was Mrs. Tilby; the vicar's wife joined them in a voluble froth of greetings and declarations. She seemed quite keyed up; the pleasantries aside, she told them why.
"Things are going missing. A host of small items — well, you know how it is when you're not quite sure when you last saw something. We only realized when we gathered for the Ladies' Guild meeting yesterday — it's not the sort of thing one worries about until one realizes it's an epidemic. Well, one hardly likes to think what might disappear next."
Her heart sinking, Amelia asked, "What things have gone missing?"
"Lady Merrington's small enamel box — it used to sit on the windowsill in her drawing room. An engraved crystal paperweight from the Gingolds', a gold letter opener from the Dallingers', a gold bowl from the Castle."
Those were all houses she, together with Minerva, Emily, and Anne, had visited in the last week.
Phyllida's dark eyes touched her face, then Phyllida turned to Mrs. Tilby. "And these things have only recently gone missing?"
"Well, dear, that's what no one can truthfully say. What we do know is that they've vanished now, and no one knows where they've gone."
Amelia and Phyllida had to hold their tongues and disguise their impatience, until, late that evening, they finally got their husbands to themselves. Then they poured out their story.
Lucifer frowned. "It doesn't make sense. In order to sell such things, they'd have to go to London." He glanced at Luc.
Who shook his head. "I can't see rhyme or reason to it either." He took a sip of brandy, his gaze going to Amelia, curled in one corner of the chaise. "That is, of course, assuming they're stealing for the monetary value of the things."
Lucifer inclined his head. "Assuming that."
Amelia felt the weight of Luc's gaze; she turned her head and met it. He was waiting for her to tell Lucifer about the quizzing glass. She returned his dark gaze steadily and kept her lips firmly shut.
"There's another, more pertinent point to consider," Phyllida said from the other end of the chaise. "The thefts are still going on."
"Which means" — Amelia took up the thread of the argument she and Phyllida had already thrashed out—"that the thief is still active. We therefore have a chance of catching them, unmasking them, and setting matters straight."
Lucifer nodded. "You're right." After a moment, he mused, "We need to think of a way of drawing whoever it is into the open."