Jane’s brow dimpled. “Which gentleman? Uncle Philips?”
“Uncle Philips is not a burglar who bashes his head against fireplaces while trying to hide, now, is he? Papa! I must speak with you!”
“A burgl… a bur…” Jane’s eyes crossed, and her head became suddenly wobbly.
“Not you, too!” I looped my arm through hers and swatted her cheeks to revive her. “I have had my fill of stitching broken crowns for one day. Papa!”
I raised my fist to pound on his door again, but it opened before me. I was scarcely in time to withdraw my hand before I popped my father in the nose. He was smiling, pleased with himself about something. “I am sorry, Lizzy. I thought it was Mrs. Bennet, come to tell me my tea is burning. Now, then, where is the fire, precisely?”
I marched into the study, dragging my woozy sister behind me. “Papa, there is a burglar in the neighborhood!”
He chuckled and closed the door. “Ah, yes. Your mother was telling me something of this. I hear he made off with an entire case of silver spoons! My, my, what have we come to? We shall all be reduced to stirring our tea with a butter knife.”
“It is no laughing matter, Papa! I caught him at Netherfield—or, rather, perhaps, he caught me.” I put a hand to my cheek, recalling how gentle his touch had been. The pleasant scents of sandalwood and pine still lingered, perhaps more in my imagination than upon my person. And his lips, warm and teasing and… and enough to make me feverish in places I never knew I had.
“Indeed, so you have seen this nefarious brute in person? Well, well, your mother swears he ravishes ladies for sport, but you appear unharmed. He did not molest you in any way, I suppose?”
I swallowed, and I was certain my cheeks were red as fire. “Not… much.”
My father’s bushy eyebrows raised, and for once, his smile faded. “You are serious, then. What happened? Are you well, my child?”
“I am well,” I insisted, my voice a little stronger now. “Uncle Philips was in the house, after all. No harm came to me.”
Papa drew a breath, a little paler than he had been a moment before. “That is well. Perhaps I ought to have heeded your mother’s cautions a little better, eh? So, there really is some troublemaker going about ransacking houses? Did you speak to him? Who is he?”
“He said I might call him ‘William.’ Truly, I think he would harm no one, even if he is a bit… forward. But Papa, this is quite serious. You are in a very grave position, indeed.”
My father strolled around his desk, stroking his chin. “Serious, you say. How so? If he means no harm to people and is only after a bit of property, I suppose the constable can manage well enough. I shall have Hill look round to the village for a few stout lads to guard the house until the trouble is gone. Unless, of course, he was handsome. In which case, I daresay no amount of guarding will keep Lydia safe from this rogue. Eh?” He chuckled and lowered himself into his chair.
“It is not that. It iswhathe was stealing that is the problem. Do you not recall the four vases Mr. Rumfield begged you to part with a few years ago? He was here nearly every other day, admiring first one, then the other, and he would not be satisfied until you had agreed to sell him all four.”
Papa bridged his fingers on his stomach and laughed. “How could I forget? It was a bit of brilliance if I do say so. I hoped to offload only one, but in refusing to sell any of them, I persuaded him he could not be happy unless he had all four. He could have chartered a ship to the Mediterranean to find his own artifacts for what he paid for those!”
“And that is just the trouble, Papa. Mr. Rumfield paid a vast sum for forgeries!”
Papa waved a hand. “Pish-posh. They are exquisite samples of their type, and he was proud to own them. I wonder that he did not take them to Bath when he removed. Ah! Well, he probably did not have the space. I understand he is living in quite reduced circumstances for the present. Perhaps he ought to sell them, but I doubt not that he intends to return in a year or two. Cannot come home to a bare house, of course.”
“Papa…” I kneaded my eyes and cut a sigh. “Please, one topic at a time.”
“But of course, my dear! Forgive me. Now, tell me everything as it happened. And do sit down before you fall. Honestly, you look as if you might topple over if a strong wind were to come through.”
Jane dragged a chair a little closer. Even so, I almost missed. Good heavens, what was wrong with me? I was still shaking like a leaf. It was that wretched man, the one with the dimple on his cheek and the… ah… deliciously tousled dark hair. That smelled like fresh air and saddle leather.
I gripped the armrests of the chair and blinked several times, trying to rid my memory of his charm and paint him as a proper rogue. “I went with Uncle Philips to inspect Mr. Rumfield’s property because I feared he would be looking at the vases. As it happens, I was correct.”
“Did he admire them?” Papa asked, that little wrinkle at the side of his mouth that betrayed his true interest.
“Yes, yes, of course, but pray, do not interrupt because I will lose track of where I was. I am afraid I led my uncle to believe they were quite valuable. I thought I was doing right, but now I worry that I have caused more trouble. What if Mr. Rumfield wishes to sell them, as you suggested? Why, then they would have to be appraised all over again, and this time, by a genuine expert.”
“Indeed.” Papa nodded, then shrugged. “Have you so little faith, my child?”
“I believeyouhave a great deal too much,” I shot back. “Uncle Philips is trying to turn over what proof he can of where Mr. Rumfield acquired them, and you may be assured that if there is some scandal when they are found to be fakes, it will come round to you.”
“Come, come, I am not worried. But you were trying to tell me about this thief. When did you encounter him?”
I put my fingers to my temples to massage away the beginnings of a headache. “It was when Uncle Philips went upstairs to look at a painting. I caught the man hiding in the fireplace, and I threw a candelabra at him.”
“Hah! Good show, Lizzy! I expect he is very much knocked about, then?”
