“Once you explain this whole thing with” —Liza lowered her voice and hid her face with her fan— “Circe, why, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Their little group stopped near the fireplace. Mira caught sight of Maureen and Bertie dancing near the center of the room. Bertie’s demeanor was rather personable, and Maureen was in much better spirits than the last time she saw her.
The Risewells were by the stairs, but their daughter was not with them. Mira itched to sneak off to try and find the documents herself. But not only would that be bad manners, it would be foolish to expect to find them immediately when Circe had been searching for them for over ten years. She burned with curiosity. What could possibly be so important?
The song ended and Liza beckoned Maureen and Bertie over. Maureen looked an absolute vision in dark crimson silk.
“I much prefer a ball to a soiree,” Maureen said, fanning herself. “Though one does get rather out of breath.”
“I’ll fetch some refreshments,” Bertie said.
Walker nodded. “Good idea.”
The men left their company and Mira tilted her head to the side. “Mr. Corbet is being rather attentive to you.”
Maureen broke into a grin. “He’s been just wonderful. I think he’s finally decided that Theresia will never be interested.”
“Does Admiral Hoddle approve?” Liza asked.
“I don’t really know,” Maureen said, adjusting a silk rose on her hip. “I’m not sure he realizes. He’s been so preoccupied recently. He’s become obsessed about taking a trip to Wells, which is strange because I really thought he was attached to the house and there isn’t anything nearly as interesting to do in Wells.”
Mira’s heart sunk. If she remembered, Wells was where the asylum was located. Surely the doctor wouldn’t admit her there when she was doing so much better, would he?
“Does he really care so much about the house here?” Liza asked, completely oblivious. “I find that so odd.”
Maureen nodded. “It’s the strangest thing. Though perhaps he’s a little over-vigilant.”
“Here we are,” Walker said as he and Bertie returned with the drinks.
“Goodness, Walker, you’ll give us all a fright!” Liza said, taking a drink from him.
“Sorry.” He winked at Liza while turning to Mira. “By the way, I just saw the Sherards come in.”
Mira nodded, trying to figure out a way of broaching the asylum question. Maureen took a goblet from Bertie and took a sip.
“Oh, this is much better than the last two I had,” she said.
“Who’s over-vigilant?” Bertie asked.
“Admiral Hoddle,” Maureen said. “He’s mentioned so many times that he’s grateful no one has tried to burglarize the househere, especially with all the other thefts happening in Bath. And of course, we had so many break-ins at the house in London, so I think it makes him nervous.”
Even with Maureen’s improved mood and disposition, Mira was surprised to hear her speak so candidly about the break-ins. Perhaps it wasn’t so difficult to speak about the burglary in terms unrelated to her father’s death. Or perhaps she was a little affected by whatever was in the punch. It smelled of brandy.
“Wait,” Walker said, “break-ins, plural?”
Maureen nodded. “There were two before...” She trailed off, her smile slipping. She cleared her throat and continued. “Two before the one where father was killed. And two after we moved. Though the police think the last two were just some nosy children who thought the home was abandoned.”
“Was anything stolen?” Liza asked.
“I don’t think so.”
A strange theory began to form. Mira set her drink on a nearby table, trying to keep her excitement in check. “Maureen, what was it that your father did for work, again?”
“He was a journalist.” Maureen took another sip. “He’d travel all over to write stories, mostly political ones. He often worked with the Foreign Office.”
Mira swallowed, her mind whirling. “Did he receive many foreign letters or packages?”
“What a strange question.” Maureen frowned. “I suppose he did.”
