Cassie stumbled over the entry, not even noticing that the butler had let them in. Mr. Strait tucked her arm more firmly against his side and handed the servant his false card.
“One moment, sir,” the butler murmured before gliding down the hall.
“Are you all right?” Mr. Strait said in a low voice.
“Yes. Quite.” But she rested her free hand on his arm, needing something solid to hold onto. Ever since Bow Street yesterday, she’d felt like the ground was in constant motion beneath her feet. She’d barely slept. Hadn’t eaten. Had her father known about Lydia’s condition? Was he ashamed of his daughter? Was that why he’d kept the family sequestered up in their country home for the past five years? Cassie had thought it was from grief, but perhaps he’d feared his other daughter would make the same choices as his first born.
“You look pale.” He tucked his finger under her chin and raised her face to his scrutiny. “I can call another carriage and you can wait inside while I speak to Shelton.”
“I am fine.” She forced thoughts of her sister down and gave him a wide smile. If she wanted to discover the truth about Lydia’s death, she had to first help Mr. Strait with his investigation. If he didn’t find her useful, her services could be terminated, and it did so help having the agency’s name behind her when she investigated on her own.
The muscle beneath her fingers tensed. She couldn’t help but notice how firm his biceps was. And how tall Mr. Strait was. The top of her head just reached his shoulder. Did a man really need that many inches?
“If you’ll come this way, sir, mum.” The butler drifted towards them. “Mrs. Shelton will see you in the parlor, Mrs. Alberto, and Mr. Shelton waits for you, sir, in his library. Follow me, please.”
Cassie was announced at the door of a cheerful yellow room. Mrs. Shelton sat on a silk striped settee and set some embroidery aside as she entered.
Mrs. Shelton was an attractive woman in her mid to late twenties, with light brown hair and bright, curious eyes. “Mrs. Alberto?” She rose and dipped into a curtsy. “How lovely to see you again?”
“And you, as well.” Cassie straightened. “Please forgive the intrusion. My brother and I have thought of little but the dreadful theft last weekend. We hope you are doing well and that your loss hasn’t been too trying.”
Mrs. Shelton waved her hand at the chair opposite her as she sat down. “How kind of you to be concerned. I’m trying to remember. Was it Lady Redgrave who introduced us?”
Mrs. Shelton was trying to remember more than that. Cassie kept her expression even. The woman obviously didn’t remember “Mrs. Alberto” at all. Which had been the whole point of Cassie’s presence at the party. Observe others while remaining unnoticed herself. But sometimes her lack of ability to make an impression stung.
“No, I believe it was my brother, Mr. Sargent, who gave me the pleasure.”
“Oh, Mr. Sargent is your brother! What a lovely man.” She clapped her plump hands together. “I do hope he’ll join us here after speaking with my husband so I may greet him.”
“I’m sure he will,” Cassie said. “Although since your theft, he has become a bit unbearable. Checking the security of my home, urging me to put some baubles I don’t wear often into the bank’s safe.” She rolled her eyes. “If my brother has been so rattled, I can only imagine what your husband must be like.”
Mrs. Shelton lifted a shoulder. “My husband tends to take ill events with a certain degree of nonchalance. He says as long as we have our health, nothing else matters.”
“A sound principle to live by.” Cassie fiddled with the lace trim of her sleeve. “But I hear it was a family heirloom? That loss must sting.”
Mrs. Shelton sighed. “Indeed. And I had been joking about losing the pin the day before. Now I wish I hadn’t been so flippant.”
“Oh? And why were you speaking about such a thing?” Cassie smiled to take any sting out of the words. “You aren’t saying you’re a seer, are you?”
She laughed, and flapped her hand at Cassie. “Heavens no. But the clasp had become loose and the pin had fallen from my turban. That nice Scotsman, what was his name, Sir Freeley, I believe, saw it drop and returned it to me. But that is why I’m so certain I didn’t lose it. Because the clasp was loose, I put it away in my jewel pouch and wasn’t going to wear it again until it could be repaired.”
The defensiveness in her voice was unmistakable. “Are there some who think you lost it?”
“Mr. Rhodes insists I must have.” She pressed her lips into a slash. “Or that a friend borrowed it, leaving that ugly little pin of lips in its place as a jest. I suppose I cannot blame him. No one wants to host a party that was robbed. It was all quite gauche.”
Cassie darted a look at the empty doorway. How long would she have before Mr. Strait returned? She’d gathered enough information about the theft to appease him, she supposed. Now it was time to get the answers she wanted.
“Well, let’s speak of something happier.” Cassie settled back in her chair. “I believe you are recently wed. How did you meet Mr. Shelton?”
“I don’t know that you’d say recently.” Mrs. Shelton raised her eyebrows. “It has been three years now since I’ve become his wife. But we met at Almack’s of all places. He was my first waltz.”
Cassie shrugged. “Perhaps I am thinking of someone else more recently wed. Had you known Mr. Shelton long before your marriage?”
“No, only six months.” She laughed again. “My father was quite against it, you know. His engagement to my mother lasted over a year! But I insisted. When you know, you know.”
Cassie didn’t know. She had never felt anything close to that certainty about a man. She also didn’t know if this information was helping her. Mr. Shelton hadn’t been wooing her sister and his current wife at the same time, so there wasn’t that strike against his character. But the fact he had a seemingly happy marriage now didn’t eliminate him as a suspect.
“Were you out in society many years before your engagement?” Cassie asked. “Or did you make an early success of it?”
