“Did ye seethe portrait?” Lizzie asked Malcolm as she burst into the room.
He and her papa were talking in hushed tones, and they turned to look at her. Papa looked confused, but Malcolm kenned exactly what she was asking.
“What portrait?” her mama asked, following her in.
Lizzie pointed to the wall where her grandmama’s portrait hung high in the center. The jewelry she’d recovered from the viscountess, hanging around her grandmama’s neck and dangling from her lobes.
Mama’s eyes tracked to the portrait, and she frowned.
“Why would Lord Malcolm have any interest in our family portraits?”
“No’ our family portraits, Mama. Just Grandmama’s portrait.”
Her mama held her hands up. “I believe I am missing something.” She looked at Papa. “Do ye ken what our daughter is talking about?”
Papa shook his head. “I havena any clue. Lizzie, dear, what is this all about?”
Lizzie sighed as she bit her bottom lip. Now was the time that she needed to tell her parents what she’d done. Three sets of eyes focused on her and the room felt suddenly hot and small. As if the walls were closing in on her.
“Lizzie,” her papa drawled, “I ken ye too well. Ye are hiding something. Let’s all have a seat and ye can tell us all about it.”
She scrunched her face. She wasn’t so sure she really wanted to do that. But as her parents looked at her expectantly, she sighed and dropped into a chair, fidgeting with the satin sash of her gown.
Her eyes clashed with Malcolm’s and he gave the slightest nod of his head, urging her to tell her parents what she’d done.
Taking a deep breath, she started. “First, I would like to say that I understand that ye will be upset with me, however, I also would like ye to ken that I only did it to retrieve what had been stolen from us.”
Both her mama and papa’s brows drew down in confusion. “I havena the slightest idea of what ye speak of, Lizzie, but ye have us intrigued. Lord Kennedy, I assume ye are aware?”
Malcolm nodded. “I’ve an inkling.”
Her papa focused on her once again. “Well, we are waiting.” He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.
“Also, please dinna be angry with Mary. She was only doing what I asked of her. She is verra loyal and deserves to be rewarded, no’ disciplined.”
Her father crossed his arms, his mouth dipped down in a frown as he regarded her. He didn’t look happy.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and confessed to all she had done.
How she lied about visiting a friend.
How she took the Wilson’s invitation and went to the party.
And how she recovered her grandmama’s jewelry.
“Lizzie,” her mother said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “What have ye done?”
“I took what rightly belonged to me. To us. It canna be stealing if they were ours to begin with.”
“And ye caught her in the act?” Papa asked Malcolm, his voice serious.
“Aye. Though I must admit, I didna take the lass for a thief. Especially the Phantom Prowler. She was much too loud and careless for that,” he said with a small smile.
Papa chuckled, but Mama’s mouth stayed in a thin line. “Ye are truly daft, Lizzie. How could ye take such risks for, for that?”
“Why wouldna I? ’Tis Grandmama’s jewelry. It belongs to me. She gifted it to me,” she said stubbornly. Why couldn’t they see what was happening? Her intentions were true.
Mama pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. “Aside from the fact of how ye thought ye would find them at the Wilsons’ home, which is an issue we will deal with later, ye risked e’erything for colored glass.”
