“Ye have lovely locks.” Mary approached and picked up the brush from the vanity and began pulling it through Lizzie’s thick waves. “Have ye a particular style in mind for your hair tonight?”
Lizzie thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that she didn’t. “Nay, Mary. Ye have free rein to do what ye will.” A huge grin broke out on Lizzie’s face. “Surprise me.”
Almost three hours later, Lizzie smiled at the Wilson’s butler.
“Good evening.” She greeted and handed him her parents’ invitation, and holding her breath for fear she’d be turned away.
“Welcome, Miss Barclay.” The elderly man bowed, and, with a sweep of his slender arm, allowed her entry.
She breathed a sigh of relief when his attention was immediately drawn to the next person arriving.
Well, that was simple.
Lizzie made her way to the ballroom, carefully surveying the halls as she passed. One of those corridors would lead her to the treasure she sought. But which one? She would have to pay attention and gauge the best time for her to slip away and start her exploration.
Her heart jumped in her chest so forcefully, she was certain anyone standing nearby would hear it over the orchestra playing on the stage.
The ballroom was decorated in an autumnal theme. Flowers of orange, brown, and gold arranged in huge vases were positioned in the center of each round table in the room. The table coverings were the color of tree bark, adding to the overall nature feel of the party.
Fallen leaves had been collected and used to make garland that hung in various places throughout the room.
Eliminate the music and the light din of conversation, and it was like walking through the woods on a late September evening.
“Viscountess Wilson.” Lizzie greeted the hostess with a curtsy. “Your estate is lovely. The decorations are absolutely stunning and fitting for the time of year.”
“Thank ye.” The woman gave her a polite society smile, cocked her head, and studied her.
Lizzie realized the viscountess had no idea who she was. Which made sense—it had been years since they had seen each other, back when Lizzie was a young lass.
“I apologize, my lady. Lizzie Barclay. My parents send their apologies.”
“Ah, aye.” Her smile warmed. “I was sorry to hear your parents were unable to attend. ’Tis sweet of ye to appear in their absence.”
“I happened to be in the area visiting a dear friend and thought it was only right since ye and the viscount were so kind to extend the invitation.”And it gives me the opportunity to retrieve what belongs to me.
“I do hope ye enjoy your evening,” the viscountess said.
“Thank ye.” She curtsied and her hostess moved away.
As Lizzie watched her smile and greet her other guests in her magnificent gown and perfectly coiffed hair, she never would have suspected the viscountess was the Phantom Prowler. It was only with her dogged determination that she was able to uncover the viscountess as the thief. She pored over articles published in the papers, taking note of all the details of the robberies. She paid attention to those who were in attendance at the balls, until all was revealed. It could be no one else but her.
Considering the opulence on full display in the estate, lack of money did not seem to be of worry. Of course, it could all be a facade but, if it were, it was extremely elaborate and quite convincing.
Nay, she was certain the Wilsons were quite wealthy.
Lizzie accepted an offered flute of champagne from a passing servant. The fizzy bubbles tickled her nose as she took a small sip. As much as she would love naught more than to down the entire glass for the courage it would offer, she needed to keep allher senses in check. It was the only way to ensure her plan would be successful.
Fiddling with the dance card tied around her wrist, she tried to hide it inside her glove. She was not interested in attracting the attention of anyone of the opposite sex this night. The more people who took notice of her, the harder it would be for her to slip away. For that very reason, she looked around and slunk toward the edges of the room. She stood near the tall double doors decorated with white trim that led to the living quarters and surely the master chambers of both the viscount and viscountess.
Everything she knew about women of her hostess’s standing told Lizzie she would find her grandmama’s jewelry stowed somewhere in the viscountess’s chamber. That was where she needed to begin her search.
Movement from the other side of the door caught her attention. She turned and her breath hitched when her gaze clashed with stormy blue eyes belonging to one of the most handsome faces she had ever had the pleasure of seeing.
Just as quickly as the connection was made, it was lost when he turned and walked in the opposite direction. As he spoke with the viscount, she examined the way his broad shoulders stretched the seams of his coat. Lizzie hadn’t the faintest idea who the man was, but her curiosity was piqued, and should he approach her and ask her to dance, she would not deny him.
So much for swearing off dancing for the night.
“Concentrate, Lizzie,” she mumbled to herself.
She gave a quick shake of her head to rid her mind of thoughts of the mystery man, sipped her champagne, and against her better judgement, went ahead and finished the entire glass.
A warm feeling enveloped her, which she attributed to the champagne working its way through her body, and not the handsome stranger whose brief glance still lingered on her skin.
