“To warm the blood before we set off, and a toast to find the bloody bastard that murdered a good man.”
Three
MIKAELA
The residence of Sir Ambersley,at St. John’s Wood near Regent’s Park, was an impressive Georgian red-brick manor, with ornate window bays set above a portico entrance.
I paid the coachman, then climbed the half dozen steps to the main entrance, where I was met by a footman in the usual livery of a servant in such an impressive residence.
What? Not dressed in vivid purple, I thought, somewhat sarcastically. I then heard the high-pitched yapping of an animal that could only be Bitsy as the alarm of my arrival was sounded.
“This way, Lady Forsythe,” the footman indicated with what could only be described as a mixed expression of propriety for the position he held and what could only be described as forced tolerance.
I thought of the hound and silently sympathized.
“Good afternoon, Lady Forsythe,” a servant who could only be the head butler greeted me as Bitsy finally made an appearance, charging across the entrance hall like a bad hairpiece that had suddenly come to life. “I am Mr. Ives.”
The introduction was interrupted by Bitsy as she made directly for me, obviously determined to guard the manor against intruders. She seized the hem of my coat and began to furiously chew on it.
I had a great fondness for animals, case in point the hound. Unruly behavior was undoubtedly not this poor creature’s fault. However, I was not one to stand idly by while an overgrown rat proceeded to ruin my coat.
“Stop!” I firmly admonished.
It was undoubtedly the first time, the word—spoken somewhat firmly—had ever been uttered.
Quite startled, Bitsy ceased her gnawing, sprang back in a mass of quivering incredulity, and stared at me through a curtain of perfectly groomed bangs.
Mr. Ives promptly coughed, no doubt to disguise his surprise as well, a bemused expression at his face.
“If you will come this way, Lady Forsythe. Lady Ambersley will join you in the drawing room forthwith.”
Andforthwith,Bitsy followed, at a curious but cautious distance.
It was perhaps best that Brodie had not accompanied me. He might have been tempted to shoot the poor thing.
Afternoon tea was provided as Kitty Ambersley made her appearance, dressed in fuchsia, turban included. It did seem that she had a penchant for vivid color, including the bright shade on her cheeks. She smiled in greeting as I reminded myself of the most serious reason I was there.
“I do hope that Bitsy has been entertaining you.”
Entertainingwas such an interesting word.
“Most entertaining,” I replied as she scooped the destructive little creature into her arms and proceeded to kiss her.
“She is most protective…” she explained.
Of course, I thought. Any intruder or attacker would be absolutely terrified.
“And can be very forceful when needed”
As in, destroying the hem of one’s coat? I smiled.
“Shall we begin?” I replied.
I had several questions for Lady Ambersley:
When did she last have the necklace?
Did she keep it in a particular place when not wearing it? A wall safe perhaps?
