“Your wife noticed something was amiss,” Minerva said. “She asked me as a friend to confirm what she suspected. I do not seek to interfere any more than she did. If you would prefer to be robbed and have your affairs compromised, just say so and I will take my leave.”
Robbedraised an expression of alarm in him.Compromisedbrought forth a deep frown. He did not tell her to leave.
She described what she had learned in Brighton. She laid out the lace cuffs she had bought from Mr. Seymour’s shop. She explained how she was told that they came from a town in the Loire Valley, and that the owner of the shop was well aware that he sold something that in the past had been available exclusively at a competitor.
“Quite smug he was,” she said. “Furthermore, he had already sold out his stock and was getting more.” She lifted one of the cuffs. “I arranged to be there when he did, and I saw your agent enter his building. A half hour later, I procured these cuffs. I thought this one unusually fine.”
He snatched it out of her hand. He put on his spectacles and bent low over it. “Hell and damnation.” He looked up with a chagrined smile. “My apologies. Only this is new. Not one of mine.”
“He was very proud of that one. He anticipated much profit from it.”
He rested back in his chair, fingering the cuff. “The thief,” he muttered. “Who knows what else he’s done.”
Minerva stood. “I will indeed take my leave now.”
“I will see you to the door,” Mrs. Oliver said.
At the door Mrs. Oliver leaned in and whispered. “Well done. Write and let me know what I owe you for today.”
“You owe nothing. This is part of my report.” She looked toward the dining room. “He is not the sort to somehow turn this around to blame you, is he?”
“In two days my role will be forgotten, and the entire discovery will be his doing.”
Of course. What other choice did he have? Admit that his wife had been right to involve herself?
* * *
“Hand delivery,” Beth called. “A big one.”
Minerva went to the stairs to see a large rectangular bundle hovering above the middle step. The package was too large for Beth to carry. It all but tipped her over, and obscured her sight. Minerva rushed down and helped her bring it up to her chamber.
Beth poked at the unbleached muslin and ribbon tie. “A gift?”
“I expect it is my new ensembles. They finished them very quickly.”
Minerva plucked at the ribbon and it fell to the sides. She unfolded the muslin. Her woolen ensembles were not inside. The luscious dinner dress, the one she had not bought, glimmered up at her.
Beth’s sharp intake of breath filled the chamber. “You said day ensembles. Not this.”
“A mistake has been made. The woman must have not heard me correctly.”
She lifted the dress. The simple raw silk far surpassed the more elaborate fabrics available. A subtle sheen rippled over it when she moved it in the light.
“What is this here?” Beth reached for the package and moved another piece of the muslin wrapper.
Minerva had been so distracted by admiring the dinner dress that she had not noticed something else had come with it. Beth lifted the garment high. An undressing gown unfolded and its hem dropped down. She had admired this at Madame Tissot’s too, and only declined it after much thought.
Beth peered around the white lace, suspiciously.
“I will send it back with the dress,” Minerva said.
Beth laid the undressing gown on the bed. “It is very pretty. The one you have has been mended five times over.”
“It is lovely, isn’t it?”
Beth ran her palm over the very fine lawn fabric. “Maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Perhaps that dressmaker just wanted you to have it.”
“Dressmakers do not make gifts of such as this, to patrons such as me. Pack it up and I’ll ask Jeremy to—”
