“You are a wretch.”
“I thought that was what you called your cat.”
“What cat?” Lord Dalton said, pulling the score pad toward him. “See here, what about this? I played a ten and then another ten—is that not an extra forty points you have not added in? Must I consult your intrepid companion about the rules?”
His playfulness in imitating Mrs. Jellops’ unique scoring system caught Daisy so by surprise that she began to laugh again. She took deep breaths to stop herself and thought she’d never laughed so much in her life. Others may not have found the state at all unusual, they were those who’d had a childhood filled with games and jokes. She had not, however. It felt somehow liberating, as if a great weight of seriousness had flown from her shoulders. As if it were not always necessary to be entirely serious.
When she thought about it, she realized she had laughed quite a lot this summer. It was meant to be a summer of quiet mourning and had somehow brought danger with it. Nevertheless, she’d found herself often amused by Mrs. Broadbent’s indomitable what-fors and Betsy’s interesting stories from the servants’ hall and of course, Lord Dalton’s cat. Now, here was darling Mrs. Jellops’ excellence at inventing an entirely new game and calling it piquet.
Just as these pleasant thoughts were rolling through her mind, she heard a distant knock on the front doors.
Chapter Thirteen
The knock on the door instantly chased away any lightheartedness Daisy had felt, and she looked up in alarm.
Lord Dalton rose and said, “I will go. Don’t forget about my run of tens and the forty points.”
She smiled at his joking, though inside she felt a sort of terror. She could not even say why. After all, it was not every time somebody knocked that had turned out unpleasant. But there had beensometimes. The time Lieutenant Farthmore had turned up. The other times when Bellamy had refused entry to one of her father’s cronies. Those unpleasant times were always at night.
She must not let a knock affect her so!
Certainly, if it were someone who should not be arriving, the careful watchmen would have chased them off. They could not chase off a peddler and stand in the way of the grocer and then let the likes of Farthmore through. In any case, whoever it was, if they were not wanted Lord Dalton would send them packing.
Lord Dalton returned to the room and gave her a reassuring nod. Loudly, he said, “A letter has just arrived by fast messenger. From Lady Grayson.”
Daisy let out a long sigh she’d not even realized she’d been holding. Dear Kitty had written again. They had waited and waited, and now they might finally hear something definitive about Dagobert.
The parties all stopped their games and Mrs. Jellops whispered to Mrs. Phelps what all the fuss was about.
“A mystery!” Mrs. Phelps said. “How diverting! What a pleasant card party this is.”
Lord Dalton strode across the room and handed Daisy the letter. The Minkertons and Lord Burke had laid down their cards and risen to join her, with Lord Burke carefully transporting Miss Minkerton via a strong hand on her delicate elbow. Mrs. Jellops and Mrs. Phelps were not far behind.
Daisy tore open the letter.
My dear Daisy,
What a time I have had writing back and forth to all my learned acquaintances! Just as it seemed I was to get nowhere with it, as I was forever receiving histories of King Dagobert I was already perfectly well aware of, I finally received the information I believe you have been looking for.
Mr. Croydon sent my request on to a fellow expert on France, and in fact the man is in Paris as we speak. Monsieur Benoit has written back to Mr. Croydon and he has faithfully made a copy and sent it on to me. The information is both exciting and alarming.
M. Benoit explains that the Dagobert is certain to be the Dagobert Scepter. It is part of the French crown jewels and had been housed in St. Denis Basilica. It was discovered stolen a few years ago, though it is not at all clear when precisely it was taken. It may have been missing for some time before it was even noticed gone.
Surely, this must be the answer to your mystery. Though, I am on tenterhooks to discover if you know where this item is located or who has possession of it or how it came to your attention at all. Needless to say, Mr. Croydon and Monsieur Benoit are interested too.
I enclose a drawing done by M. Benoit to show what the scepter looks like.
Please do send me news when you have it, as I will do too.
Kitty
Daisy unfolded the enclosed picture. It was a drawing of a rod, and Kitty had helpfully noted that it was two feet in length and the whole was enameled in gold. At the top, a man rode some sort of bird. It was an ugly-looking thing, and not one that Daisy would have thought would prompt a thief to make off with. But then, as it was part of the French crown jewels, somebody had understood its value. Somebody had secreted it out of the basilica. How it had ever become associated with her father and Lieutenant Farthmore, Daisy could not fathom.
Lord Burke peered over Daisy’s shoulder and pointed at the scepter. “Wait a moment,” he said, “I have seen that somewhere before, I am certain I have.”
Lord Dalton took the paper from her hand. He stared at it in silence as Mrs. Jellops and Mrs. Phelps confirmed to one another that it was not the sort of thingtheywould display in a drawing room. According to the ladies, the scepter lacked a sense of delicacy and refinement.
“It’s the bedpost,” Lord Dalton said.
