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“Just stop sticking your nose into things that don’t concern you,” the man mumbled.
His threat lost some of its sinister meaning because his voice was muffled by the hand that held his bloodied nose, but Jeb heard him.
“What? Like the girl’s death? You into killing young girls now, are you?”
“What? I ain’t killed no girl,” the man protested.
Jeb swore. “So, are you the thief?”
The man glared at him and didn’t speak.
“Maybe you are. Maybe you are not. Some of my things have been stolen. I have every right to try to find them again, and the person responsible for their disappearance. Maybe I should just take you to the magistrate now. It looks to me like you have something to confess.”
The man looked up at him, and realised he was serious. He began to squirm frantically against the hold Jeb had on him. There was a look of panic in his eye that warned Jeb that he was nearing the truth. This man may not have killed Tabitha, but he had something to do with the thefts.
“If you want to put yourself forward for an arse kicking, that’s up to you, but don’t come to me with your ridiculous threats. Take it back to your boss that he can shove it because I won’t take instruction from some two-bit thug who can’t fight to save his life.” To prove his point, Jeb punched the man in the gut and watched him double over for a minute while he tried to regain his breath. “You accost me again, and I promise the next time you won’t get up,” he snarled.
Before Jeb could demand the name of the man who had sent him, the assailant spat blood at his boots and clambered to his feet. Still hunched over from the pain of his beating, he disappeared into the darkness. Jeb watched him go but made no attempt to follow.
Dizziness made any further altercation too dangerous. His ribs ached, his knuckles were bruised, and he had a cut inside his mouth that was bleeding profusely. It was time to go home.
Now that he knew the thief was still in the area, Jeb had someone to look for and knew that in Framley Meadow, there were few places to hide. He could keep for now.
Pleased that he had scored one for the Star Elite, Jeb resumed his journey home to write a note to Barnaby.
It was time to call in his colleagues.
Sophia stood at the side of the ballroom and tried not to yawn. Even though the place was packed and the music was delightful, she was worried. It was impossible to enter into the joy of the occasion because of the contents of the bag she carried.
She hadn’t wanted to come. She had no previous acquaintance with Mrs Bank’s son, Hubert, and suspected that her invitation to his ball had only transpired because she attended the local’s social engagements. The ball was Mrs Bank’s rather crafty way of avoiding having to entertain everyone in her own home. While she couldn’t blame her really, Sophia really had no interest in being there and was thoroughly bored.
Trying to hide, unsuccessfully, behind a potted plant, she studied the other guests, most of whom she had never seen before in her life and would probably never see again. Of those she did know, none of them appeared to be enjoying themselves much either.
Delilah was currently being swept around the dance floor by the Squire, who evidently would prefer to be anywhere else.
The Harvells relished being able to catch up on any gossip they might have missed, and were busy working their way around their connections.
Mrs Banks was in the middle of chastising her son, Hubert, about something. He now looked like a naughty little boy rather than someone who ran a cotton mill. She watched them for a moment with mild amusement before she allowed her gaze to wander around the rest of the room.
Mavis Arbuthnot stood primly on the opposite side of the room, right next to the drinks table, and glared at anyone who dared imbibe.
Sophia couldn’t quite make out if she secretly wanted a drink or intended to put everybody off such vice.
When a loud peel of laughter rattled the chandeliers, Sophia turned her attention back to her aunt. There was something about the overly happy expression on her face that was so incredibly false that Delilah looked almost desperate. The Squire certainly did. She watched as he suddenly deposited Delilah at the side of the room the instant the music stopped and disappeared into the crowd without a backward look. Delilah glared after him but, with a sniff, soon turned her attention to another poor soul who was promptly dragged onto the dance floor with his drink still clutched tightly in his hand.
It was safe to say that the last week had been the hardest Sophia had ever had to endure anywhere. The atmosphere within the house had turned into what could only be described as frigid. Her relationship with her aunt had now become so bad that the two women purposely avoided each other. If one went downstairs, the other went up. If one was in the garden, then the other remained indoors, out of sight.
Sophia had thought many times about simply going home and sending Hooky to deal with her instead. Unfortunately, the knowledge that several stolen items were still secreted under the stairs wouldn’t allow her to. She refused to leave the village until Delilah had done the right thing and returned the rest of the hoard, including the several items nestling in her bag. That thought left her to consider the items she carried.
As with the Harvell’s tea last week, Delilah had made promises that she would return the Lord’s trinket boxes and the Squire’s snuff boxes, but at the last moment had refused to carry the bag. She had piously told Sophia that she had been ordered not to take any bags to the social engagements she attended and that included tonight. Before Sophia could take issue with her it had been time to leave, and Delilah had refused to discuss it on the way.
“Well, hello there, Miss Carney. How are you this fine evening?” Mabel Harvell chirruped from her left.
Sophia plastered a smile on her face and turned to the kindly old lady. “I am very well, thank you. How are you, ladies? You look splendid this evening.”
“We are fine, thank you. Have you heard the latest gossip?”
Sophia almost groaned, suspecting the rest of her evening had just been handed over to learning all sorts of titbits about people she hoped never to meet.
