“Not all of them are that bad,” Jeb remarked with a grin.
Algernon snorted. “I hear anything else about pheasant shooting I am going to fetch my gun, and it won’t be birds I will go hunting for.”
Jeb smirked and shook his head at the mischief in his father’s eye. He knew he shouldn’t encourage it but, once back in his seat found his gaze drawn once again to the woman seated opposite. Something inside him actually seemed to sigh. He certainly felt a strong tug of attraction that he had never felt toward any woman before. It wasn’t just attraction either.
There was genuine masculine interest. For the first time in his life, he didn’t just want to bed a woman. He wanted to find out everything about her.
He didn’t get the chance to converse with her again though because Algernon’s pleas for the cook to hurry the meal along worked. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of courses interspersed with continual observations of hunting, fishing, and London’s finest from the Squire, and twittering gossip from the Harvells that made it virtually impossible for anyone else to get a word in.
Bemused by the constant rumble of noise that came from so few people, Jeb was well aware that Sophia was finding amusement in the debacle as well. Especially when their eyes met across the table, and he watched her lips twitch when Pearl declared herself aghast to find the tavern owner’s wife wearing pearls.
Sophia had no idea whether it was the wine or not, but she suddenly found such nonsensical observations like that funny. Unless she was much mistaken, Jeb, and the host, Algernon, seemed to think them amusing too, and many wry looks and smiles were exchanged while all three remained silent and listened.
Unfortunately, the rather jovial atmosphere swiftly changed when the guests took their leave.
“I don’t believe it,” Jeb muttered in disgust.
As the last guest walked out of the house, he glared at the empty side table beside the front door in disbelief. He hurried to the door just in time to watch several of the guests turn out of the end of the driveway, and swore loudly.
“Do they always leave in a group like that?”
For several moments, it had been chaos in Briggleberry’s vast hallway with people, shawls, and cloaks, everywhere. At some point during the melee, the thief had struck again.
Algernon snorted. “What? Go home you mean? I should say so, and good riddance to them, if you know what I'm saying?”
“No, I don’t mean that,” Jeb snapped in frustration. “Do they always leave together like that?”
There had been so many people in the hallway that it had been impossible to keep an eye on everyone. It had been a perfect opportunity for the thief, who had taken advantage of being surrounded to slip the trinket boxes into their cloak, or pocket, or shawl.
His threw Algernon an apologetic look at the sharpness of his voice, which had been far brisker than he had intended. He was livid, however; furious even. He desperately wanted to race down the drive, stop the whole lot of them, and insist on searching their pockets. He actually rocked on the balls of his feet with the temptation to do just that, but slammed the front door shut with a resounding thud before temptation got the better of him.
“Well, yes. The ladies like to escort themselves home and tend to walk around in bunches, and Squire went in his carriage. You just saw him. Philip couldn’t wait to get out of here, but he left on foot out of the servant’s quarters. Not that I blame him. He is in his cottage if you want to go to see him. He won’t care, although will probably not answer the door unless you are persistent.”
Jeb sighed. He was listening to Algernon, but his gaze remained locked on the spot on the table where he had left the two trinket boxes. Although he had expected it, or else wouldn’t have set the traps, he was still blazingly angry at the utter gall of the thief.
“So, what do we do now?” Algernon asked quietly from the study doorway.
He had never seen his son so coldly furious before. It was a side of Jeb that Algernon never wanted to see. Wary, he decided not to reveal his own anger, mainly for fear of what Jeb might do. His decision proved to be the right one when Jeb looked at him with eyes that were nothing short of merciless.
“Now, I go to work,” Jeb murmured with lethal intent.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophia fought the dark shadows that threatened to drag her under. Her cry was muted by her clamped lips as her head twisted from side to side. Thankfully, the need to suck in a deep breath woke her up. Her heart thundered in her ears with startling ferocity, and she lay and listened to it as she stared blankly at the ceiling. While she couldn’t remember much about what she had just dreamt, there was one clear memory which still lingered; Jebediah Hutchinson.
While last night had been a most pleasant evening, something about it was disturbing. One of the problems was the way Jeb had studied her. It was as though he sensed she was harbouring a secret and was trying to work out what it was. Those incredible eyes of his had been mesmerising; hypnotic even. While the feminine part of her had been thrilled, she suspected it would be wise to remain wary around him. All was not as it seemed with him. There was something almost too intent about his observations; as though he was harbouring a secret and trying to decide who to tell.
Still, that was not what had given her bad dreams. Something about the evening left her unsettled. Around the table last night, the atmosphere had been rather jovial, but had a tendency to swiftly turn tense and watchful only she couldn’t quite work out who changed it, or why.
Sophia sighed and considered her aunt’s behaviour for a moment. While Delilah had been her usual gregarious self, Sophia had been aware of the rather telling looks exchanged between several of the guests whenever her aunt spoke. It left her to wonder what they knew about Delilah that she didn’t. As the only outsider at the table, she knew people would know things she didn’t, but couldn’t help feeling that she was missing something considerably important.
Did it have something to do with the collection of assorted paraphernalia Delilah had hidden in her bedroom?
A tendril of suspicion filtered through her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside. It couldn’t possibly be that Delilah had stolen everything. No, surely not. Delilah wasn’t a thief. She had a reasonable stipend each month from Hooky. There was no reason for her to want to thieve anything from anyone. Somehow, though, the thought that Delilah might very well have stolen them just wouldn’t go away.
How was she to find out for definite though? Asking Delilah outright was most certainly not going to happen. Her relationship with her aunt was already strained as it was because of the financial issues Delilah ignored. Delilah would almost certainly never speak to her again if she even faintly accused her of stealing from her friends.
“No, it’s a preposterous idea,” Sophia murmured into the darkness.