The Theft (Thornton 2)

Unless, of course, the assailant happened to be Lady Mannering's lover. In which case, Mary might very well know more than she realized.

It was time to implement the direct approach, to attempt the woman-to-woman technique Noelle had described to Ashford. There was no point in being coy or elusive. Either Mary would rise to the challenge, open up and relay something of significance, or she wouldn't.

"I'm not going to insult you by lying, Mary." Noelle plunged right into the thick of things. "I'm here to plead with you to tell me all you know, not about the robbery itself, but about any facts that might indirectly help us deduce who's responsible for it. I'm sure you're aware that Lord Tremlett believes you're withholding information. He and I have discussed the matter. Frankly, it's my opinion that the reason you refused to speak candidly to him was out of loyalty to your mistress. Am I correct?"

Mary looked uncertain, but not yet ready to relent.

"I've met Lady Mannering. Several times, in fact," Noelle told her. "At parties I attended with my parents. She was a lovely, vibrant wom

an. Quite a bit younger than her husband, if I recall." Noelle leaned forward. "I'm young, too, Mary. I can imagine it would be difficult to be married to someone much older than I, someone whose head was filled with business matters, and whose nights were spent poring over ledgers and finalizing details. I'd be very lonely if I were that man's wife. So if Lady Mannering felt that way, it's hardly a sin."

"She was a devoted wife," Mary said defensively.

"I'm sure she was." Noelle's tone became earnest. "I'm not here to judge her. I have no right to do that. All I want is to help catch the scoundrel who took her life."

"Why?" Mary asked. "What does Lady Mannering's death have to do with you?"

"That's a complicated answer to supply." Noelle's mind was racing as she tried to discern how much to reveal. She decided to stick to the basic premise and hope it was honest enough, and yet intentionally suggestive enough, to satisfy Mary. "It's possible that the man who did this to your mistress is someone I know; someone who—in certain ways—is very close to me, who has ingratiated himself into my life. If that's the case, I, too, could be in danger."

Mary startled. "Then why don't you have this man arrested?"

"Because I have no proof. I need you to help supply it. Please, Mary. I'm frightened for my own life, as well as being distraught over the loss of Lady Mannering's. I vow to you that I won't tell Lord Mannering a word of our conversation. As I said, I feel for the emotional predicament your mistress was contending with in her marriage. I'm a woman myself, as are you. But she was killed, Mary. Killed. And the most important thing is for the man who took her life to be punished, locked up in a place where he can never again hurt anyone else."

Uncertainly, Mary chewed her lip. "What is it you want to know?"

A ray of hope broke through the clouds.

"Did Lady Mannering have someone special in her life? Was there one man in particular who offered her the attention her husband was too busy to provide?" Noelle set down her teacup, gazed intently at the maid. "Can you help me, Mary? I know Lady Mannering sent the entire staff away on the night she died. Obviously, she wanted her privacy. That means she was entertaining a guest. Perhaps that guest was involved in the crime. Or, if not, maybe he was here that night, saw something that could tell us who was. Please, Mary, talk to me."

Another ambivalent pause. "And you won't repeat anything I say to Lord Mannering? Because I could lose my job, you know," Mary rushed on. "As it is, his lordship is working hard to find me another household whose mistress needs an experienced lady's maid. If he finds out the details I've told you, if he even suspects I was aware of her ladyship's restlessness and didn't speak up, he'll not only refuse to help me, he'll send me packing. Until the police told him, he had no idea his wife was—" She broke off, twisting her hands in her lap.

"No. I won't breathe a word to Lord Mannering. The only person I intend to share this with is Lord Tremlett. And he'll be discreet in his inquiries. Believe me, he's equally as eager as I am to keep Lady Mannering's name untarnished. He respects your master, Mary. He doesn't want to see him more embarrassed or hurt than he already is—especially given how deeply he's grieving. All Lord Tremlett wants—all we both want—is to apprehend Lady Mannering's killer."

Mary nodded, looking not only convinced but visibly relieved. "Very well. And just so you know, I do have a conscience—despite what Lord Tremlett thinks. If I believed for a minute I had information that would lead the police to Lady Mannering's killer, I'd have spoken up; loyalty or not, consequences or not."

"I believe you," Noelle said quietly.

A flash of gratitude crossed Mary's face. Anxiously, she twisted her hands in the folds of her uniform. "The truth is, I haven't slept a wink since the murder. Over and over, I ask myself if I'm betraying my mistress more by keeping things to myself. But the problem is, I have no real facts to report. Yes, her ladyship was … romantically involved outside her marriage. But that alone means nothing. As for what she confided in me, the answer is, very little. In order to spare her husband from learning the truth, Lady Mannering was extremely guarded about what she revealed, even to me. She never mentioned her suitor's name, nor did she invite him to visit her here—at least not unless her husband was away and the servants were gone, which wasn't very often. But she'd talk about him once in a while, comment on the differences between him and Lord Mannering."

"What did she say?"

"That he doted on her. That he had a seductive charm that was nonexistent in Englishmen, who were forever icy and reserved."

"He wasn't English?"

"No. He was from the Continent."

"The Continent," Noelle repeated, her heart slamming against her ribs. "Did she specify from what country?"

"No." Mary shook her head.

"Think, Mary." Noelle actually clasped the other woman's hands. "What else did she say about him? Did she describe him? Show you any gifts he gave her? Mention why he was here in England or what drew them together?"

Mary's jaw tightened in concentration. "She said he was tall, and exotically handsome." A flush. "And attentive. If I recall, her exact phrase was that he was a man of fire and passion. She claimed that no flames burn like those born within the gentlemen that hail from the Continent. As to why he was in England or what drew them together…" A shrug. "I have no idea. But with regard to gifts…"

Tugging one of her hands free, Mary dug in her pocket, extracted a delicate pair of sapphire earrings. "I kept these for Lady Mannering. She was afraid her husband would discover them if she put them in her own jewel case. That's how I first knew they were a gift from her suitor. That and the fact that she only dared wear them on those nights when he was expected—and when her husband was away."

Noelle touched the fiery sapphire stones. They were small but exquisitely cut and perfectly set. "But clearly she wasn't wearing them on the night she died."