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“Come, Miss Everley,” Grand said, reaching out his hand to her once more.
“I should return home, my Lord,” she said softly, her eyes remaining downcast.
“Most assuredly, if such is your wish, I will send you home in my carriage. Mr. Escher will escort you to your door, but do you not wish to know the location of the necklace? You have risked your life several times to solve this mystery.”
“Either you or Mr. Dostoff may call with the news of the necklace’s recovery,” she argued.
“We could, but I prayed you would see this to the end.”
“It is the Prince’s necklace,” she gasped. “Why did no one think to inform me of this?”
Grand smiled easily.
“Actually, it is Queen Charlotte’s necklace, and, as to why no one told you, we were all under orders not to disclose the information.”
“Surely, Lady Jenest will turn it over now that you and Mr. Dostoff have cornered her,” she insisted.
“We have known all along that the necklace was taken from Lady Jenest’s safe.” he explained. “The Prince believes her Ladyship is innocent. I possess a different opinion, which is why I could use your voice of reason in this matter. You have the knack of seeing what most do not. Now, shall we join the others?”
She glanced to the still open door.
“Might we use the servants’ stairs again? I would prefer not to be seen on your arm. You will thank me for my caution later.”
“I doubt it,” Grand countered, but he crossed to the servants’ door and held it open for her. “After you, my dear.”
With an adorably defiant lift of her chin, she crossed before him, without looking left or right, to regally climb the stairs. Grand could not disguise the smile upon his lips. The woman was one of a kind, and some very fortunate man would one day claim her heart. The idea of her with another displeased Grand, even though he knew that Miss Everley was not his future. His future was with a milquetoast miss who would fill his nursery with a variety of heirs, while he took his pleasure elsewhere. The desire of a few moments earlier had been for naught. With his heart feeling the deprivation of his life, he silently followed the Lady to another confrontation with Lady Jenest.
******
Colleen permitted Mr. Dostoff to seat her opposite Lady Jenest before he assumed a place beside Lord Harlow near the door. She had always thought Mr. Dostoff a very virile man, but standing next to Lord Harlow, Mr. Dostoff fell remarkably short, and she was not simply considering their positions in Society or their stature.
She fought the sigh of regret rushing to her lips, although she, most assuredly, did not regret the brief kiss she and Lord Harlow had shared; however, the fact that it was not only their first kiss, but also their only one, brought her a deep sadness, likely never to be filled.
At least, now, she had that memory and many more to keep her company over the years of loneliness stretching out before her.
“Could we be about this foolishness?” Lady Jenest demanded with a slight wrinkling of her nose, as if she had inhaled something odious. “I have guests who require my attention.”
Mr. Dostoff spoke first.
“I assume that your safe is in this room rather than the bedchamber. Am I correct?”
Lady Jenest shrugged.
“It is behind the Reynolds.”
It was only then that Colleen realised that the portrait was by Joshua Reynolds, one of the most revered artists of the end of the last century. She secretly smiled: Her father would have been flabbergasted if he knew that she had been so intent on opening the safe that she had not recognised the value of the painting. Thomas Everley would have walked into the room and known the value of each of the pieces proudly displayed therein. For the first time in a long time, she realised that she was not her father, nor would she ever be. She preferred the worth of people, not of possessions.
“Might you explain exactly what occurred the evening the necklace went missing?” Lord Harlow asked.
“I explained it all to both Prince George and Lord Liverpool,” Lady Jenest said in petulant tones.
“I am certain both the gentlemen are aware of the details,” Colleen said in a calm voice, attempting to make the woman see reason, “yet, I am not. If it is not a great bother, ma’am, would you please share the facts with me?”
Lady Jenest pulled herself up royally, eyeing Colleen suspiciously, but doing as Colleen had asked, nevertheless. Even so, her Ladyship exhibited a bit of obvious boredom to allow all to know that she was responding under protest.
“Prince George arrived excessively late to my last at-home. In fact, I originally had not planned one for this evening, as I feared that, once the word escaped of the necklace, not only would Lord Liverpool shut me down, but I would become a suspect and be shunned by those who regularly enjoy a few hands of cards in my home.” Colleen purposely did not glance to Harlow or Dostoff, for she knew perfectly well the gentlemen’s thoughts on Lady Jenest’s attempting to stave off her creditors. “Despite not possessing an official invitation, I most certainly did not turn the Prince away, for his presence was a great honour and would predictably increase the number of people who wished to be seen at my home. Unfortunately, His Royal Highness was more than a little inebriated, and so Lord Ridgeworth suggested that I permit the Prince to rest in the late Lord Jenest’s quarters. No one other than my husband has ‘ever’ been permitted to sleep in Lord Jenest’s bed. Not even my own son.”
The woman’s eyes fell on Lord Harlow. The apparent disdain in her gaze said that his Lordship had once suggested they use the late Viscount’s quarters for their pleasure and had not been happy to be refused.
