Mme. Blanchet’s face was deathly pale. “They’re gone. Every single stitch!”
Chapter 3
“And then what happened?” asked Philippa York three hours later, after calling to order an emergency meeting of the ladies’ reading circle. Their fearless hostess was dressed, as usual, in yards of fine lace.
The bluestockings had met every Thursday for years in the Yorks’ Mayfair parlor. They now enjoyed more space, more privacy, and more freedoms in a large salon in the Wynchesters’ enormous home in Islington.
“I told her we’d take care of it,” Sybil replied.
Philippa looked horrified. “You accepted a case on behalf of the Wynchesters?”
“On behalf of the Heist Club,” Sybil clarified.
“We don’t have a name,” Philippa chided her. “We’re a reading circle.”
“We’re not just a reading circle. Damaris deciphered a secret code, and you stole a—”
“Let Sybil tell us about the new case,” Florentia called out. Her shiny black ringlets bounced fetchingly against the light brown of her apple cheeks, which were dusted with dark brown freckles. “Mme. Blanchet won’t receive any help at all, if we can’t stop bickering over whether or not our group has a name.”
“Which is definitely ‘The Heist Club’,” Lady Eunice added, her omnipresent glass of Madeira in hand. “Of course we’ll take on Madame Blanchet’s case. Helping others is what we do.”
“When not reading,” Philippa added. “Or talking about reading.”
Sybil hoped they could solve the mystery, and quickly. When she’d told the modiste about the club, and the ladies’ connection to the Wynchester family, Mme. Blanchet had been gratifyingly impressed. It was now up to Sybil to ensure she and her cohorts came through as promised.
“Did Lady Vanewright get her gowns?” Florentia asked.
Sybil nodded. “The viscountess and her daughter received their complete wardrobe yesterday, in preparation for their upcoming soirée. Everything else is gone.”
“Where did they go, and who took them?” Philippa asked. “Are they destroyed or still salvageable?”
“The soirée is to be Miss Vanewright’s come-out,” Lady Eunice mused. “Would she or the viscountess have sought to rid themselves of competition by orchestrating a more dramatic delay?”
As the ladies spoke over one another in their eagerness to puzzle out the mystery, Sybil compiled a running list of questions and ideas on a fresh sheet of paper.
Pretty, brown-haired Gracie dashed into the room. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
The group groaned in unison at Gracie’s habitual tardiness, but quickly caught her up on the situation. Sybil’s pencil flew across her foolscap as they spoke.
Some members of the reading circle were fabulously wealthy, like Lady Eunice. Or shameless flirts, like Gracie. Or famous, like Damaris, who had created an important military code. Or infamous, like Philippa, who had helped bring down a blackguard and became a Wynchester along the way.
And then there was Sybil, who was none of the above. All she had were lists and calendars. Which she kept with obsessive precision, because it was often the only way she could control any part of her world.
But together, the reading circle was greater than any one bookish bluestocking alone. When they joined forces as a team, villains beware! It was only a matter of time before they cracked this nut as well.
“Could Mme. Blanchet repurchase the materials and recreate all those gowns and accessories?” Gracie asked.
Sybil shook her head. “She’s not been paid for the first set yet. Accounts won’t be settled until customers take possession of their items. Even if she had the money, importing expensive silks and other luxury materials in order to then recreate each custom piece would take months. She needs to deliver these pieces in time for the Vauxhall ball, in less than a fortnight.”
“Then we need to find who took them,” said Florentia. “Does Mme. Blanchet have enemies?”
“Well, there are a few ladies Madame no longer does business with, either due to a clash in personalities or nonpayment of accounts.”
“Do we know who they are?” Gracie asked
“I have a list,” said Sybil.
“Of course you do,” Florentia said with satisfaction.
