He cringed. “I cannot believe you ladies rely on a bat for protection.”
“There is a store next door that sells the very finest of furnishings and jewelry,” Beatrice pointed out. “A thief could go in there and snatch a lamp or a leather case, either one worth more than everything on our shelves. Thus, we’ve never worried about our confectionery being robbed. It seems absurd if you think about it.”
“Besides,” Charlotte chimed in, “the little man didn’t want our sweets or even our cashbox. He wanted my purse.”
“Was it lying on the counter?” Greer asked.
“Of course not,” Charlotte scoffed. “It was in the back, but that’s what he wanted, just the same.”
“It is strange indeed,” Greer mused. Then he considered her words. “A little man? Meaning he was below average height?”
“He was.” Then Charlotte stood. “I think I shall go see if I can make friends with your cat. Perhaps I can lure her out from under Beatrice’s bed. Then I need to change. I have my art class tonight.”
“Wait, Miss Charlotte,” Greer stopped her at the door. “Was he wearing a cap by chance?”
Her eyes widened. “He was. How did you know?”
“I believe I had the same nefarious visitor in my hotel room.”
The two sisters looked at one another in alarm.
“Don’t worry,” Beatrice told her. “Mr. Carson will get it all sorted out.”
Charlotte shrugged and left, apparently still intent on befriending Miss Sylvia.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Beatrice started to pace. “I know it’s silly, but I don’t want her to go out tonight to her art class. I wouldn’t say that to her, however, as I don’t want her to feel frightened or to worry. I can do that for both of us.”
He nodded. “I wish I’d been there.”
“As do I.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
Before he could ask what she meant, she added, “That’s why I sent for you. I was next door at Asprey’s. By the time I got back to the shop, the bobbies were already there. In any case, I have good news. Great news, in fact.”
“Then why don’t you look pleased?” he asked.
“Because of Charlotte’s little man. The robber asked if she was Miss Rare-Foure and then demanded her purse. And the only Miss Rare-Foure with anything valuable in her purse—”
“Is you,” he finished, knowing she referred to the collar she’d put into her bag.
“Precisely,” she confirmed.
Greer stepped forward and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
Then he realized what she’d said. “How valuable?”
She looked up at him and her excitement was now visible in her brilliant blue eyes. “You, sir, are a very rich man, one who can well afford to keep a wife.”
A hundred thoughts raced through his head, but all he could say was, “The jewels are real?”
“It would seem so. Worth a king’s ransom.”
“My mother put real jewels on a cat!” Still holding her hand, he took Beatrice with him to the sofa and sat, pulling her down beside him. “And I almost lost Miss Sylvia yesterday.”
She nodded. Then Greer realized the worst of it. “I told Molinoyouwere going to keep hold of the collar.”
“And he watched me drop it into my purse this morning. He took a chance that I was going straight to work. After all, since he told us the collar was studded with paste, why would I take the collar home or be careful with it?”
“Where is it now?” Greer asked, feeling a frisson of excitement blended with a healthy dose of raw tension. By now, Molino knew his thief had failed and Beatrice still had the collar.
