An excellent point. Viv hated him for it. She increased her scowl.
“If one of his friends is behind the robbery, it was without my cousin’s knowledge. Not only wouldn’t he risk the hangman for something so stupid, Quentin would never use my fiction as an instruction manual, and implicate us both. He knows the risks.”
“But we’ll still have to rule it out empirically,” said Tommy.
The problem was, Viv was warring with herself as much as with the Wynchesters. Given the rebellions in her own youth, charging full steam ahead in pursuit of adventure was unquestionably in Quentin’s blood.
As much as she didn’t wish to believe him or his secret society foolish enough to rob an aristocrat, she wouldn’t put it past him if her cousin believed he was doing a bad thing for good reasons—just like his infamous, lawbreaking idols.
And Quentin would know better than to come home after pulling a stunt like that.
“Maybe he did fall in love and elope to Scotland,” Viv muttered. “Or tag along on some harebrained holiday to Antwerp.”
She’d still kill him, but these were much better options than him being in danger—or gaol.
“Enough speculating,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s solve the robbery. That should lead us to Quentin.”
“Do we know what was taken from Olivebury yet?” Marjorie asked.
Graham shook his head. “By all accounts, he refuses to disclose the missing item or items.”
“Have you considered interviewing one of the servants?” Viv suggested.
The entire family looked amused. She bristled.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Jacob said quickly. “But believe me, it has occurred to Graham to interview everyone Olivebury has ever come in contact with. Graham has journals containing detailed accounts of the private lives of half the population of London.”
“I have notes on everyone of note,” his brother agreed with a laugh.
Teeth clenched, she arched a brow. “Everyone who matters, eh? Do you keep a book about my cousin?”
Graham had the grace to look chagrined.
“No? Well, I do. Allow me to help flesh out your library.” Viv fished in her satchel, then slapped her Quentin journal into Graham’s hand.
“He didn’t mean…” Jacob said quietly.
“I know exactly what you all meant,” she replied bitterly.
Kuni cleared her throat. “If the stolen object isn’t visibly apparent to staff, that means the thief took something Olivebury hoped to keep hidden.”
Graham nodded. “Whatever the item, it hasn’t turned up yet, openly or underground. The moment it does, I’ll be the first to know.”
“That’s only one possibility,” Viv said. “Maybe whatever was stolen is not for sale. Perhaps the thief wishes to keep the object for himself.”
“Or use it for blackmail,” Jacob suggested.
“Quentin would never stoop to blackmail,” said Viv with satisfaction. “I told you he had nothing to do with the burglary.”
Tommy arched her brows. “A lad whowouldhave otherwise been born a wealthy, respected viscount… and who instead receives a pittance so small, he cannot even afford to hire the cheapest maid-of-all-work to share some of the load dumped upon his alreadybusy-with-two-careers-of-her-own cousin… You’re saying a lad like that couldn’t use an extra shilling or two?”
“I didn’t say he couldn’t use the shilling,” Viv said tightly. “I said he wouldn’t steal it.”
Not because she or Quentin held any particular respect for British property law. To their eternal rage, Viv and both of their mothers hadbeenBritish aristocrats’ “property.” Hers had died because of it.
To this day, tens of thousands of other men, women, and children like them were still enslaved on rich English lords’ offshore properties and plantations. To the devil with the British, and all their self-serving conscienceless behavior!
The reason her cousin would never steal from an aristocrat, regardless of his feelings on who was allowed to own what, was because Quentin knew exactly how and why Viv’s mother had been murdered. That Viv herself had almost suffered the same fate. How close they’d both come to never meeting each other, much less being a source of daily happiness in each other’s lives.
