To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

“Forgive me, my lady,” he said hoarsely to his mistress, “for intruding this way, but I thought you should know immediately. I went below to the wine cellar to fetch the champagne, and I surprised the thief there. He fled as soon as he spied me.”

Roslyn felt her stomach clench at the news, while Winifred turned pale. Before either of them could regain their wits enough to speak, though, Drew demanded, “He broke into the house?”

“It would appear so, your grace. The bolt to the outer cellar door was pried open.”

“Did you follow him, Pointon?” Roslyn thought to ask.

“Regrettably I was too late. By the time I recovered from my startlement, he had disappeared.”

“What thief?” Lady Eleanor asked curiously.

Her question was ignored as Pointon practically wrung his hands. “In his haste, he left his sling behind. The fabric was bloodied, Miss Loring. Perhaps his wound opened when you and his grace chased him that day.”

“What wound?” Eleanor queried. “And why were you and Drew chasing him?”

Miss Jane Caruthers replied for them. “Last week the duke shot a highwayman who was holding up Lady Freemantle’s coach.”

“You shot a highwayman?” Eleanor asked in astonishment.

Drew’s mouth tightened, his ire obvious. “Yes, and I managed to wound him. But he escaped that night and again two days ago after he was caught in her ladyship’s bedchamber, rifling through her jewelry case.”

The Marquess of Claybourne frowned. “You told me about the shooting last week, old chap, but you never mentioned your latest little adventure. I missed out on all the fun.”

Drew t

hrew down his napkin and rose to his feet. “I want to see the cellar, Pointon.”

Eleanor gave an exasperated sigh. “Will someone please explain to me why a thief would be lurking in the wine cellar?”

Drew answered tersely. “Most likely he was hiding until after the household was asleep so he could search without being caught.”

Roslyn added more patiently, “We believe he is looking for a particular brooch belonging to Lady Freemantle.”

All eyes went to Winifred, who was fingering the enamel brooch pinned to her gown while staring down at her dinner plate. Her normally florid complexion was waxen, her lips pinched and bloodless.

Roslyn was concerned for her friend. No doubt it was terribly distressing to Winifred to have a villain break into her home for the second time after being held up in a highway robbery. She would feel extremely vulnerable, being at the mercy of the elusive villain.

Drew spoke to reassure Winifred. “I’ll discover his identity, my lady, if it’s the last thing I do.”

He started to leave the dining room when Winifred finally found her voice.

“I think I know who the culprit is,” she murmured in a barely audible rasp.

Drew halted and glanced down the length of the table at her. “Who is it then?”

Her expression pained, she lifted her gaze to Drew but hesitated to answer. “Perhaps we could discuss this in private, your grace, so as not to spoil everyone else’s dinner?”

“Would you like us to leave?” Jane asked quietly.

“No, please,” Roslyn interjected. “You needn’t leave.” Pushing her chair back, she stood. “Winifred, dearest, let us repair to the green parlor for a moment.”

“Yes, that would be best.”

Clearly disconsolate, Winifred sent an apologetic glance around the dining room, then rose slowly and preceded Roslyn and Drew to the parlor.

When the door closed behind them, Winifred murmured in a hoarse voice, “Thank you, your grace. It is ill-bred to speak of such things in polite company.”

At her apparent distress, Roslyn grew even more concerned. “Speak of what things, Winifred? Please tell us what is wrong.”