APROPERGENTLEMAN’SGUIDETOWOOINGTHEPERFECTLADY
SIRVINCENTTYBALTVALENTINE
Loretta sat in a large chair in front of the fire, her feet curled under her. Late afternoon had turned to early evening and she hadn’t moved. A lamp burned brightly beside her. She would read a few words, then stare at the flames and think about Hawk. Seeing him for those few minutes during the morning had been like a sweet balm to her heart and soul. She knew she shouldn’t even think about him, but already she was desperate to see him again.
The physician had put her fears about Farley’s health to rest. The man said that because Farley’s cough was getting better, not worse, and he wasn’t spitting up blood or anything else, he didn’t believe Farley had consumption. His only remedy going forward for the boy wassunshine whenever possible and warmer weather to put an end to the bouts of coughing.
That relieved her mind immensely and left her free to think about the duke. Her destiny had been sealed long ago. She couldn’t be with him, but no one could stop her from daydreaming about him. It was easy to lay her head back, close her eyes, and give her thoughts all the freedom they wanted.
“Miss?”
Loretta looked up from the flames to see Bitsy standing near the doorway worrying her hands together and visibly trembling. Loretta had never seen her strong, robust maid even slightly troubled. Knowing immediately something was wrong, Loretta closed her book, lowered her legs, and stood up. “What’s wrong?”
“Will you come with me, miss? I need to show you something right now.”
“Yes, of course.”
Bitsy turned and headed toward the door.
More than a little concerned about what the matter could be, Loretta laid her book in the chair and followed her maid up the stairs. Bitsy opened the door to Loretta’s bedchamber, entered, and walked over to her dressing table. Loretta followed her again.
At first, she didn’t know what Bitsy wanted her to see. But then Loretta saw the open chest sitting on the stool. It was empty. Her mother’s jewelry chest.
Refusing to let her mind or emotions take a leap about what might have happened, she looked at Bitsy and asked, “Where’s the jewelry?”
“I don’t know, miss.” Bitsy sniffed. “I came in here to lay out your nightclothes and saw the box sitting there just as it is now. Empty. I—I thought, I was hoping you’d tellme you’d taken all of it and put it in a safe somewhere in the house.”
At the implication of what was before her, denial shot through her mind and a lump tightened Loretta’s throat.This can’t have happenedwas all she could think. “I haven’t been upstairs since I returned with Farley late this afternoon.”
“I swear I didn’t take it, miss.” Bitsy’s pale lips trembled. “I have no need for all those fancy jewels and such.”
“No, no. I’m sure of that, too,” Loretta reassured her maid, begging her mind not to take her where her thoughts wanted to go. “Have you looked everywhere for the jewelry? I mean, did you check my satchel, the trunks, and the drawers?”
“Everywhere, miss,” she whispered, barely controlling her voice. “I checked every pocket, shawl, shoe, and bonnet. It’s not anywhere in this room.”
Mrs. Huddleston wasn’t with them in London. The only people who’d been in the house during the afternoon were Bitsy, her brother’s valet, the couple who lived at the town house and took care of it for her uncle, and Farley.
Denial raced through Loretta’s mind again and she shivered. Perhaps her uncle had the jewelry removed to a safe place by one of his staff.
“I’d never take anything that didn’t belong to me. I swear I didn’t touch it.”
“Bitsy, please. I know that.”
Loretta also knew her uncle wouldn’t pilfer her belongings or ask any of his staff to do it, either. She squeezed her eyes shut and her hands curled into tight fists. It broke her heart to admit it to herself but she knew who would take something that didn’t belong to him.
Struggling to remain calm, she opened her eyes andasked, “Have you talked with anyone else in the house about this?
“No, miss. I came straightaway to tell you.”
“Good. I don’t want you to mention this to anyone. Now, show me to Farley’s room.”
Feeling as if iron weights had been shackled around her ankles, Loretta climbed the stairs to the servants’ floor. They hurried down the corridor to a small room that had nothing more than a bed, a chair, and a short chest in it. Loretta shook the covers, pounded the pillow, looked under the bed, and pulled out the drawers in the chest. There was nothing in the room to even suggest Farley had ever been in it. No clothing, hairbrush, or satchel. Not even the nightcaps she’d knitted for him when he was so ill she didn’t know if he’d make it through the night.
Disbelief, anger, and heartache crawled like little black ants scurrying inside her. “Are you sure this is his room?”
“Yes, miss.”
“But none of his things are in here.”
