“What time do ye expect your guests to begin arriving?” He followed the viscount down the stairs.
Happy for the distraction of discussions surrounding the event, Malcolm listened as Wilson babbled on about who he expected to be in attendance at this evening’s ball.
“We’ve invited Gunn Burnett, Laird of Leys, as well,” Wilson said.
It made sense, after all, Twynholm was close to Gunn’s southern estate. It had been some time since they’d seen each other, and since they were the only two unmarried men left in their group of friends, it was important they stick together. Malcolm’s spirits lifted upon hearing that one of his best friends might make an appearance.
*
Annabel “Lizzie” Barclayfussed with the front of her gown.
“Ye have your invitation, Miss?” Mary, her maid and someone she considered a friend, had been going on incessantly and ensuring she did not forget her party invitation.
“Aye, Mary.” Lizzie rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. “’Tis the tenth time ye’ve asked me such.”
“I am only making certain that ye can attend the party, Miss.” Her maid could be quite fretful at times.
“Look,” Lizzie reached into her reticule and pulled out the rectangle paper, waving it in the air. “See? ’Tis right here.” It was actually her parents’ invitation had they decided to attend—which they did not, due to prior engagements.
“Will ye approach Lady Wilson?” Mary’s brown brows furrowed in concern.
Lizzie turned in her chair and grasped her maid’s hands.
“Dinna fash, Mary. I only intend to recover my dear grandmama’s jewelry. She kept her tone light, unconcerned. “Once I have it back in my possession, I will exit the party promptly.”
“I still dinna think much of your plan, Miss.” Mary worried her bottom lip. “What if ye are caught?”
“I shan’t be.” Lizzie gave her hands a gentle squeeze, released them, and stood. She strolled over to the large window and gazed out into the dusky evening. “I will be verra careful.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her maid. “I promise.”
“If your parents were to find out what ye are truly doing…” she whispered and continued wringing her hands together, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud on the rainiest of days.
“Mary, cease these negative thoughts at once.” She whisked them away with a flick of her wrist. “They will no’ find out, and ye will no’ tell them either.”
“’Tis my duty to keep ye safe, Miss. We already are no’ where we said we would be.”
That was true. She had convinced her parents to let her travel south to visit a close friend that had recently moved to Twynholm. Once she had seen the invitation her parents had received requesting their presence at the Wilsons’ ball, she knew it was her chance.
Intrigued by the Phantom Prowler, she’d followed the articles published in the papers with a great deal of enthusiasm. However, when jewels had disappeared from her own home, Tolton Hall, her countenance went from titillation to anger.
Gone were her grandmama’s jewelry. A beautiful pair of earrings bedecked with stunning sapphires of the deepest blue, and a necklace to match. Lizzie had always loved staring at them in her mother’s jewelry armoire. They reminded her of her beloved grandmama and the close relationship they’d shared.When she passed two years ago, Lizzie was bereft. She missed her dearly and thought of her every day.
With the precious pieces gone, she’d set about to uncover the prowler and recover the jewels that were rightfully hers. Now she was certain she’d figured out the identity of the Phantom Prowler.
Unlike the papers who thought the thief was a man, Lizzie kenned better. Nay, the thief was a woman. A viscountess no less.
Lizzie cared naught if Viscountess Wilson continued with her thievery. The woman’s secret was safe with her. All she wanted was her grandmama’s jewels back.
She was determined that, before the night was over, she would have regained possession of what rightfully belonged to her.
In the morn, with jewels in her hand, she and Mary would leave and return to Stonehaven and Tolton Hall.
No one would have been harmed, and no one would be the wiser. She believed her plan was foolproof.
“I dinna care for it, Miss.”
Realizing she would not sway Lizzie to change her mind, Mary finally shook her head. “But ye will do as ye wish either way.”
“All will be well, Mary.” She dropped back onto the chair and studied her reflection in the looking glass. “Blast this hair.” She huffed out a breath, and the dark curl that had fallen on her forehead fluttered. It was a constant battle to keep that one curl under control. She swore its life’s purpose was to annoy her to the ends of the earth.
