Unfortunately, as I had anticipated, my meeting with Lady Longridge brought no new revelations in the matter of the missing necklace. Yes, she remembered that Lady Ambersley had been wearing it, but there was some mishap with the clasp during a course of soup, and the necklace had dropped into her bowl.
Something that Lady Ambersley neglected to mention, although at the moment that didn’t seem cause for alarm. It appeared that said necklace had then been wrapped in a cloth napkin to be duly cleaned after supper.
Mr. Jarvis and Rupert then escorted me to my afternoon meeting with Lady Atherton. The residence was nearer St. James’s, and once again I left Rupert with Mr. Jarvis, although with some trepidation.
The property surrounding the Georgian manor was filled with trees, said trees filled with birds and undoubtedly a squirrel or two. Rupert did have a particular taste for squirrel, although a bird would do. He was most proficient at hunting both.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, miss. I have a bit of sandwich in me pocket that should do the lad.”
The ‘lad’ in question grinned at me. Never a good sign where food was involved.
Lady Atherton was somewhat older, of an age closer to that of my great-aunt, with various ailments that were not typical of my great-aunt.
“I do remember the incident with the necklace, yet it all seemed straight-forward. Lady Ambersley wrapped it in her dinner napkin and set it aside, and we carried on with supper.”
There was a common memory of the evening. I supposed that it was possible that the necklace had been cleaned by a servant and then returned to Lady Ambersley. Or there was always the possibility that it was still wrapped in the dinner napkin and now amongst the laundry. It would require another visit with her.
I thanked Lady Atherton and returned to the coach, greeted by Mr. Jarvis with Rupert nowhere in sight.
“He needed a bit of airing off a short while ago, if ye get my meanin’. He should be back any time now.”
I did understand his meaning. However, his confidence in Rupert’s imminent return was open to doubt.
I called for him in the usual manner, then gave a loud whistle which did draw the attention of an elderly gentleman who passed in his coach.
Not one to stand on formality, I ignored the disapproving glare he gave me and whistled again.
Rupert soon appeared and I could only stare at the creature that dangled from his mouth. And still very much alive.
Traveling about with the hound had presented unique experiences in the past. At least this particular quarry was not bleeding.
I had been working with him in the past on a few commands, with varying success. Varying, as it did depend on his temperament of the moment if he chose to obey.
The commands were few, remembered from my childhood when my father had hunting dogs that included the first ‘Rupert.’ And then it was always questionable how this particular Rupert would react to a command.
“Give,” I told him in a firm voice, the usual command to release what a hound had in its mouth.
He cocked his head to the side, the poor squirrel struggling to free itself. I could only imagine Lady Atherton emerging and possibly fainting dead away at having a squirrel torn to pieces in the portico.
“If you do not release the poor thing, I will be forced to cut off all sponge cake.”
It was a thought, spoken in frustration, nothing more. Yet, Rupert promptly released the squirrel, which scampered off and then up the nearest tree.
Never underestimate the power of sponge cake, I thought, as Mr. Jarvis stared at me.
I ignored the obvious question and asked him to take me to Sussex Square. A conversation with my great-aunt was in order, as she undoubtedly knew both of the ladies I had spoken with.
I did have another reason for calling on her as well.
“Good afternoon, Lady Forsythe,” Mr. Symons, my great-aunt’s head butler, greeted me as I arrived at Sussex Square.
“Good afternoon. Is my great-aunt available? I didn’t call before setting out.”
“She is presently in the sword room with Miss Lily. I will have Jensen let her know of your arrival.”
I thanked him.
“Not necessary. I know the way,” I added and gave my coat and bag to the footman.
