They didn't put it into words, but come the morning they had a tacit agreement that together they would face whatever developed in this latest threat to the Ashfords, and overcome it.
Both Emily and Anne had been at all the gatherings from which items had disappeared. Impossible to believe Emily, so caught up in her romance with Kirkpatrick, had spent any time filching small objects of value. Anne, on the other hand, so quiet and retiring…
In the depths of the night, Luc had asked, "Do you have any idea why she might do such a thing?"
She'd shaken her head, then stopped. Eventually murmured, "The only reason I can think of is that she believes she needs money for something, something she can't approach you, or me, or your mother about."
Luc hadn't argued. But before they'd finally fallen aslee
p wrapped in each other's arms, he'd murmured, "One thing — we can't broach the matter to her without real proof. You know what she's like."
He hadn't elaborated, but she'd understood. Anne's quietness wasn't like Penelope's. Penelope often remained silent simply because she saw no reason to waste her words. With Anne, being retiring was a form of self-effacement, a means of hiding in plain sight. Anne was inherently nervous; it had always been clear it would take time and steady encouragement to make her comfortable in society.
An unfounded accusation would destroy Anne's fragile confidence. If she learned that they — her family, her brother and guardian — suspected her of stealing… regardless of the right or wrong of the matter, the outcome would be disastrous.
The morning's gathering about the breakfast table maintained its customary tone — bright, breezy, lots of feminine chatter. Today, there was a rumbling masculine counterpoint; Luc and Lucifer sat at one end, discussing something — Amelia couldn't hear what. Phyllida and Minerva were swapping household tales. Miss Pink was keeping an eagle eye on Portia and Penelope, biding her time before herding those two damsels upstairs for their lessons.
Amelia turned to Emily, on her right; Anne sat on her left. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to check over your wardrobes." With a glance, she extended the comment to Anne. "You may well need more gowns to see you through the summer, and we should be looking ahead to when we return to town in autumn."
It took Emily a moment to draw her mind from its now habitual preoccupation; Lord Kirkpatrick and his family had been invited to visit in a few weeks' time. She blinked, then nodded. "I hadn't really thought, but you're right. I wouldn't want a panic over gowns while Mark's here."
Amelia hid her smile. "Indeed." She looked at Anne. "We should check your things, too."
Anne smiled and nodded her agreement.
Perfectly readily, without the slightest hint of trepidation.
Amelia glanced down the table. At the other end, even though his conversation with Lucifer hadn't faltered, Luc had been watching, following her tack. She met his dark gaze; although he didn't precisely nod, she sensed his agreement to her plan.
If Anne had been stealing things, what was she doing with them? If her actions were purely an irrational compulsion, then the items would be hidden somewhere, most likely in her room. With Emily, Portia, and Penelope forever about, let alone the maids and Mrs. Higgs, anywhere else seemed unlikely. And even if Anne had somehow managed to sell some items, as the matter of the saltcellar seemed to suggest, she couldn't possibly have sold everything.
"Is there much to see in the village?" Phyllida asked.
Amelia looked up. "Not really, but it's a pleasant place. We could go riding that way after lunch, if you'd like." She nodded down the table at their spouses. "They'll no doubt be occupied elsewhere."
Phyllida grinned. "Indeed. After lunch, then." She pushed back her chair.
The table broke up. Phyllida and Minerva went out for a stroll in the gardens. Miss Pink ushered her charges up the stairs to the schoolroom. Leaving Luc and Lucifer still talking over their coffee cups, Amelia, Emily, and Anne headed off for the girls' rooms.
The necessity of examining their gowns wasn't a complete fabrication. It was Emily's and Anne's gowns that had first alerted Amelia to the family's straightened circumstances — she'd noticed fabrics being reused, gowns recut and refashioned; it had been cleverly done but having been in such frequent contact with the family, she'd seen and guessed the truth.
Now, there was no reason the girls couldn't have new gowns, that their wardrobes couldn't be improved to a level commensurate with their social standing. The girls themselves knew nothing of that, but Amelia did.
She directed them first to Emily's room. Emily opened her wardrobe doors wide, Amelia sank into an armchair by the window, Anne plopped down on the bed, and they all settled to enjoy themselves.
Forty minutes later, they'd exhaustively examined the contents of Emily's wardrobe and dresser. Amelia had extended their purview to include all garments, shoes, accessories of all kinds; every drawer and box in Emily's room had been looked into, the contents picked over.
Glancing down at the tablet on which she'd jotted various notes, Amelia nodded. "Very well. We'll arrange to get all these things. Now…" She waved to the corridor.
Without further direction, they decamped to Anne's room next door.
There they repeated the exercise, this time with Emily perched on the bed and Anne at the wardrobe doors. Amelia watched Anne closely as she pulled out gowns, shawls, and spencers. Not a glimmer of self-consciousness, not a trace of guilty fear, showed in Anne's sweet face — just a shy delight at being included in such an undertaking.
Again, the contents of every drawer, every hatbox and bandbox were examined; all Amelia discovered was that Anne needed more silk stockings, a new pair of evening gloves, and a new cherry red shawl.
Holding the old one up, Anne studied it in dismay. "I've no idea… it was old, of course, but I can't think why the weave should have given way like that."
Amelia shrugged. "Silk sometimes does that — just gives way." Although the fabric of the shawl looked like it had been worried and wrenched. "Never mind. We'll get you a new one."