He shoved the gloves into his pocket. “There. Happy?”
“No.” She squeezed his arm. “Not until we find your sister, but I am certain Clara knows something.”
He huffed a sharp breath. “Yes, but the real question is how much will she admit to?”
“I got Mr. Woodley to talk. I think I can—”
“Henry!” Clara flew into the room on a cloud of jasmine perfume, her silk skirts billowing. She was all smiles and bliss, her eyes twinkling with love and life. “What a surprise! How lovely to see—oh.”
Her smile froze as her gaze landed on Juliet. Her chin lifted a fraction, just enough to claim superiority. “Miss Finch. I had not heard of your release from gaol.”
Juliet savoured the victory before curving her lips into a pleasant smile. “I would be surprised if you had.”
Clara’s left eye ticked a moment before she diverted towards the drinks cart. Her hands hovered over the crystal decanters. “May I offer you both some—”
“No refreshments required.” Henry’s harsh tone rang like an unexpected gong. “Only information.”
Clara hesitated a moment longer, then turned around, her smile sliding into place as the consummate hostess. “As you wish. Please, won’t you have a seat?” She gestured towards an emerald-and-gold damask sofa, lowering herself into a matching chair across from it. “Now, what is it that you think I can tell you?”
“Where my sister is.” Henry sat as stiff as a weaver’s beam.
Clara blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Juliet shivered from the ice in his voice. And he’d worried she’d be the one with claws out at this inquisition? She folded her hands in her lap, softening her tone in contrast. “What he means is do you happen to know where Charity might be?”
Clara’s brow furrowed. “I did not know she was gone.”
“You are her dearest friend.” Henry snorted, his skepticism more than apparent. “Surely she would have said something to you.”
“She has been ill, Henry … which makes this all the more disconcerting.” She traced a well-manicured finger along the arm of the chair, lips pursing for a moment. “Wait a minute.” Her head tilted. “You do not think she is here, do you? Because I can assure you she is not.”
“I do not know what to think!” Henry jolted to his feet, striding to the mantel and bracing his hands against it as if he might rip it from the wall.
Juliet smoothed her palms along her skirt, his frustration seeping into her bones. They were getting nowhere asking direct questions, so perhaps it was time to dangle some bait instead of casting empty lines. She speared Clara with a sharp look. “There was a note in Charity’s room, saying she’d gone to Italy.”
“Well.” Clara leaned back with a tinkling laugh. “There you have it. Why the concern?”
Henry spun, folding his arms over his chest like a shield. “You said yourself she has been ill. Do you not find that incongruous?”
Her smile faded. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Her eyes widened slightly, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, Henry, are you thinking someonemadeCharity leave? What an awful thought! Something must be done, and I will be glad to lend any aid I can. What can I do?”
Hah! She’d done quite enough already. This woman belonged on a Drury Lane stage.
Henry shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet, holding it up so that lamplight glittered off the gold. “You can start by telling me why I found this in the woods.”
Clara gasped. “Oh!I thought I lost that ages ago … I didn’t realize it was still on the grounds. Thank you, Henry.”
She jumped up, hand outstretched.
Henry merely tucked it back into his pocket, face inscrutable. “I will hold on to this for now. I would not wish for you to lose it in some other obscure place.”
“But …” Clara’s brow twisted. “I don’t understand.”
Juliet stood as well. “Why was your bracelet on the manor grounds?”
Clara turned, eyes flashing. “I visit there often enough. I ride with Charity—or at least I did when she was fit to do so. How dare you question me so rudely in my own home?”
