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She glanced up to him — her eyes as large as saucers, but she shook off the question.
Therefore, Grand ignored the various conversations swirling around them to whisper, “You may trust me, Miss Everley. No matter what concerns you, permit me to be your gallant. I will not fail you.”
Her eyes settled upon him, searching his countenance for the truth of his words.
“The servant,” she said so softly, that if he had not been concentrating on her lips, he would not have understood her. “My father.”
Grand’s eyes fell upon the various men wearing the Prince’s livery. He was about to turn back to the lady when he recognised the footman entering the servants’ door. Although he knew her accurate, he asked, “Are you certain?”
She leaned closer to say, “He looked me directly in the eye.”
Grand said cautiously, “Do not permit the others to take notice. As quickly as we may, I will see you home. We may discuss this in private.”
She nodded her understanding and reached for her wine glass, but, throughout the remainder of her meal, she ate little, and her attention remained on the door where the servants entered and exited the hall. Grand, too, watched each of the servants’ comings and goings, but Thomas Everley never made another appearance.
During the entertainment, he sat beside Lady Liverpool, with Lord Liverpool squiring Miss Everley, and, although the opera singer possessed a lovely voice, Grand’s mind fretted over what explanation he could provide to Miss Everley regarding her father.
Eventually, they departed. Lord Liverpool had insisted that he and Lady Liverpool see Miss Everley home. Therefore, as Grand bowed over the lady’s hand, he whispered, “I will call upon you there.”
******
Colleen had never been more thankful for Jones to open the door to her knock. After her father’s appearance, the evening had been a never-ending nightmare, one much worse than the dream with the wooden chairs.
“Lord Harlow is to call,” she murmured as Jones accepted her cloak.
“His Lordship awaits in your personal sitting room, Miss.” Jones nodded toward the stairs. “His Lordship swore you were expecting him, or I would have turned him away.”
“Thank you, Jones. I shall see the Earl out,” she said with a mix of eagerness and anxiousness.
“If it does not displease you, Miss, I will wait for his Lordship’s departure before I turn in,” her servant said stiffly.
Colleen nodded her agreement and climbed the stairs to her sitting room. She found Lord Harlow standing by the window, looking out upon the street.
“Did you say anything to Lord Liverpool of your father?” he asked without turning around.
“Most assuredly, I did not,” she said with a scowl. “You asked me not to do so.”
“Good.” He turned to her. “I have one question, and I require the truth. Has your father contacted you before this evening?”
Colleen did not care for the tone of his voice.
“Why would you think I knew anything of my father’s appearance at the Prince’s entertainment? Did you think my astonishment fake?”
“Perhaps I hold doubts because six days ago, your father broke into my house on the night of my return from Spain. He tied me up and made a bargain: the return of Queen Charlotte’s necklace for—”
Colleen sucked in a quick breath.
“For... for an invitation to Carlton House for Thomas Everley’s daughter.” She sat heavily in the nearest chair, as realisation arrived. “My father asked for the Prince to recognise a nobody — to recognise me - in exchange for the return of the necklace. All along, I thought it was for my participation in the investigation.”
“Something of that nature,” Lord Harlow said lamely.
Colleen was immediately on her feet once again, pacing the floor.
“How did my father come into possession of the necklace? I thought Lord Ridgeworth took it from Lady Jenest’s safe.”
“He did. Ridgeworth gave the moneylender the necklace as payment for his debts,” the Earl explained. “Then Ridgeworth experienced a bout of regret and attempted to bargain for the necklace’s return.”
“That was when he was killed,” she whispered into the room’s stillness.
