Mr. Belvedere looked only concerned, having come up behind her while she was distracted. “Would you like my arm to go below, Mrs. Wentworth? I noticed you wilting a little.”
Sophia and Sir Mark came over to express their solicitude, and even the goat came to investigate. Anne was embarrassed both to be caught listening and to have created a fuss. She was also annoyed that she had not heard the rest of the conversation!But that was not Mr. Belvedere’s fault; he couldn’t know that he had interrupted something that might explain the theft.
“I’m fine, I promise,” Anne assured them, “but thank you all for asking. I just needed a moment to catch my breath.”
“We are all terribly fatigued after the storm,” Sophia agreed.
Anne had only seen her in bits since the storm, but now in the clear, watery light of day, she noticed a bruise on Sophia’s forehead. It was faint, but it discolored her left temple and the side of her forehead before disappearing under her dark hair.
“Oh, no—did you get hurt?” Anne asked, touching her own head in the same place.
Sophia’s hand flew up to the bruise, and she pressed it with surprise. “Oh. Oh! I—I didn’t know it had colored up. I tumbled out of bed during the storm and bumped my head on the bedframe, but it doesn’t hurt much. It must look worse than it is.”
Anne did not normally suspect people of lying any more than she normally eavesdropped on private conversations, but she couldn’t help doubting. While it waspossiblethat Mrs. Scott had fallen out of bed during the horrible storm, no one else had been so shaken. After the strange conversation aboutleaving things to the last minute, Anne was less inclined to believe her. Mrs. Scott’s surprise and panic at the question did not help.
Sir Mark frowned. “I didn’t see that, either! Hm, it’s bad luck for I think that mark’ll get darker before it gets lighter, and you won’t like that. A man wouldn’t care, but women get crotchety about their faces! However, I daresay you’ll be right as a trivet by the time we reach Lisbon.”
“I’m sure I will. It’s nothing. But I think I’ve had enough air. Good afternoon, everyone.”
Mr. Belvedere hesitated for only a moment before saying, “I’ll just make sure she navigates the steps safely.”
13
Sophia realized that Mr. Belvedere had followed her when they found themselves temporarily alone on the slippery steps down to their quarters. He took her arm—quite as a gentleman—although now she knew better.
“Allow me,” he said solicitously. “If you bumped your head only yesterday, you must take great care. My crony Traversham bashed his head playing cricket, and next thing we knew, he’d fallen down the stairs of the tower. Truth! Broke his leg.”
“I’m quite steady,” she said. Sophia wasn’t sure of his purpose in following her. Did he just want to annoy her—or worse—flirt? Or did he think he might catch her looking for that dratted necklace or checking some ingenious hiding spot? She hated that he was so certain of her guilt.
It was odd how different he appeared to her now. Even when playing the earnest young man, she could see through it. His eyes when he looked at her were not those of a callow youth. She had been shocked and preoccupied with his suspicions against herself, but now she grew curious abouthissituation. He certainly sounded as if he had truly been at Cambridge, but shebegan to think he might’ve done excellently well on the stage. It was impossible to say which parts of his story were true.
The dining room was empty when they entered, and it was rather malodorous now that she had escaped the smell for some time.
“I think I amsafefrom here, sir.” Sophia opened her door pointedly.
“Of course. I hope you’ll soon feel better,” he said. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Scott.”
But while his words were perfectly correct—he instead took her arm and silently pushed her into her cabin. He followed after her and closed the door behind himself.
Sophia gaped.
“There,” he said. “It is nearly impossible to find privacy on this ship, but as long as we talk quietly, none will hear.”
“What—I’ve no desire to talk quietly. Get out!” She wanted to shout, but her voice came out in a harsh whisper.
“Yes, that’s the dandy. If anyone is listening, the last thing they heard was my goodbye.”
“But what do you want? I do not have that horrid necklace. You can search if you want; I promise you it isn’t here.”
“Good for you; I assumed you had it somewhere safe,” he congratulated her. “Are you aware that Mrs. Wentworth was eavesdropping on your conversation just now?”
“Anne?No.”
“Yes. I deliberately interrupted—loudly—to prevent you saying anything you’d regret.”
“Well—that’s—I wasn’t going to say anything I’d regret!”
“Are you sure? She looked quite concerned; she heardsomethingthat piqued her interest. Is your father in on it, too?”
