“Why?” Aunt Marianne objected. “I want to know who is responsible. We can’t have thieves in our midst.”
“If I am right, no one stole the ring,” Bridget said. She hurried out of the servants’ quarters and back up the stairs to the ground floor. Then she crossed the landing and made her way to Madam Bouffant’s room.
“Madam.” She knocked softly on the door.
“That didn’t take long,” Madam Bouffant said upon opening her door. “I knew you would suspect me of stealing, but I promise you, I didn’t take the lady’s ring.”
“I believe you,” Bridget said. “Now, may I enter?”
She held open the door and let Bridget inside.
“If you wanted to frame someone for stealing a piece of jewelry, you’d want it easily found,” Bridget said, more to herself than Madam Bouffant.
“Eh?” the actress said.
“Under the mattress.” Bridget strode forward. “Help me lift this mattress.”
“I will do, but I can promise you the ring isn’t under there—” Madam Bouffant stopped when she saw the emerald ring twinkling on the frame under her mattress.
“I didn’t put that there,” she said.
“I know you didn’t. Keep the mattress elevated,” Bridget said,reaching for the ring. She snatched it, and then Madam Bouffant dropped the mattress back into place.
Bridget held up the ring and sighed.
“I told you,” Madam Bouffant backed away from Bridget, “I didn’t take it—someone must have put it under my mattress.”
“Your second patron is Lord Eamont, isn’t it?” Bridget said.
The actress couldn’t hide her surprise. “How did you know?”
“Does this remind you of anything?” Bridget extended the ring to Madam Bouffant. “Take a closer look.”
Madam Bouffant stepped forward and peered at the ring. “It looks a lot like my brooch.”
“Exactly,” Bridget said as the actress turned to retrieve a box from a drawer in her dresser, then opened it to pluck out the emerald and diamond floral brooch.
Bridget took the brooch from her and held it next to the ring. The floral design of each, and the placement of the stones—not to mention the stones themselves—were strikingly similar.
“They look to be part of a set,” Madam Bouffant said with wonder in her voice.
“I suspect they are. Lord Eamont must have ordered the set as a gift for his wife on their anniversary—but by the time it was ready, he’d met you and become your newest patron. He wanted to favor you with something special, so he split the set, giving the ring to his wife and the brooch to you.”
“A very clever man,” Madam Bouffant said.
“Not really, particularly if you are going to arrange for your mistress to be brought on holiday with you and your family.” The details and the obvious signs seemed to paint themselves in Bridget’s mind’s eye. She wondered if anyone else would be able to put them together.
“Who told you that?”
“No one told me. It was plain to see. Frederick has shown no interest in you since the two of you arrived. And your interest in himwas only a pretense. You both knew that you would not be put in the same room, and you pretended to be upset that you weren’t upstairs with him simply because you didn’t like the room my aunt first gave you. It was only fit for a servant in your eyes. How could you entertain your lover—a viscount, no less—in a tiny room with only a single bed?” She shook her head. “What I don’t understand is how Lord Eamont managed to convince Lord Frederick to escort you to Westmorland and pretend that you were his mistress when he knew full well it would upset his dear friend, Mr. Squires.”
“It was a because of some debt that Lord Frederick owed Lord Eamont. George said he’d forgive the debt if Frederick did him a favor.”
“And the favor was to bring you to Villa De Lacey under the pretense of being his mistress.”
Madam Bouffant nodded.
“Well, I dare say, bringing you on holiday with his family was a bold move on Lord Eamont’s part. But I suspect his judgment is clouded because he is besotted with you, and you know as much. That knowledge has given you ideas and has made him easy to manipulate.”
