Page 76 of Love and the Shameless Lady

Chapter 11

The instant Julian shut the drawing room door behind them, Daisy grinned at him, glowing with excitement. “Oh, my God, did you realize?”

“Yes, love,” he said, sure he was grinning madly back.

She flung her arms around him. “We’ve solved the mystery!”

He returned the embrace, breathing in her scent, intending to enjoy this while it lasted. It was a great deal more pleasant that contemplating the likelihood that his close friend was a thief. Which was far better than being a spy, but that Philippe, the man who defended and educated the poor and oppressed, would threaten Daisy and try to kill her . . . His mind still spun in circles at the thought.

His body was far more interested in the fragrant bundle in his arms. “Mm-hmm,” he murmured, inhaling again—Lord, she smelled delicious—and dropped a tentative kiss on her hair.

Predictably, she pushed away, but she was blushing and still smiling. “Well, we didn’t really solve anything. We were handed the—”

“Hush,” he said. “Let’s discuss it upstairs.”

She took him by the hand and hurried him toward the staircase. He glanced back, but the Great Hall was silent and dark. And yet, the drawing room door, he had noticed as they left, had been slightly ajar. Perfect for an eavesdropper.

He lit one of the candles waiting at the foot of the stairs and followed her up. Daisy scurried along to her bedchamber and flung the door open. “Come, hurry, we have to discuss it!”

She shut the door behind him and waited impatiently while he lit a branch of candles. “It’s hard to imagine Lord Hythwick being useful for anything, but he well-nigh laid it out for us, and then the marquis mentioned yet another theft. You don’t suppose he could be the thief, do you? Boasting about his exploits in a roundabout way?”

Caught off guard, Julian asked, “The marquis?”

“No, silly! He didn’t even think the thefts were connected. I mean Lord Hythwick! It would be a lovely solution. He would be brought low and Gloriana wouldn’t be able to marry him.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so,” Julian said, relieved. He thought the marquis had mentioned the theft for quite the opposite reason—because better to mention it now, in apparent innocence, when it might easily be revealed later that he’d already known of it. He had certainly upset Antoine by doing so. “Did you have a chance to make that list?”

She went to the desk and riffled through the papers there. “Yes, and that’s what I wanted to check. It’s not only the items stolen that match the charms in my story, but some of the locations, too.”

Julian enumerated them on his fingers. “Candlestick in London, Lord Hythwick’s goddess figurine in Melton Mowbray, the painting owned by the Fields in York, and the reliquary in Newcastle. That’s only a few miles from where Hunt lives.”

She found the list and gave it to him. “The goddess charm was lost in Melton Mowbray, but it was recovered in Leicester.”

“Close enough, but in any event, the thief didn’t know that until The Lady’s Revenge was published.” Julian glanced down the list. “I think similarities between the thief’s plans and your stories were sufficient to cause concern. I’ll wager that, if we make inquiries, we’ll find that a crown of sorts—a tiara, perhaps—was stolen in Cambridge and a medieval triptych suffered a similar fate in the Scarborough area.”

“You were in Scarborough recently,” she said. “Did you hear anything?”

He shook his head. “I’ll write to my friend there and find out.”

“It must be a collector,” Daisy mused. “Someone who values precious art, but perhaps cannot afford to purchase it for himself.”

“Perhaps,” Julian said. It was an excellent theory, but he was almost one hundred percent sure it was wrong.

“I almost jumped out of my chair when I realized that a bone had been stolen. That’s what made me realize.”

He smiled at her. “I noticed that, love.” Had the marquis seen her excitement, too? Probably. Philippe was no fool.

“It must be someone who has lately traveled to the towns on my list, at least as far as York. He may even now be in Manchester! We must prevent any more thefts. You should write to the authorities in the morning.”

Since Julian had no intention of doing any such thing, he found himself staring blankly at her. “To whom?”

“To the magistrate at Bow Street, perhaps? He may know the particulars of all the thefts, and will be able to warn the appropriate people in the next locations on the list: Manchester, Shrewsbury, and Oxford.”

“I can’t do that without revealing your connection in this matter. I believe that should be avoided at all costs.”

“But what about the people whose belongings are about to be stolen?”

“Instead, I think we should speak to Lord Garrison. He may know of collectors in Manchester, whom he could warn that he’s heard rumors of a gang of thieves. We’ll find a way to alert similar collectors in Shrewsbury and Oxford.”