I rolled my eyes heavenward. “That bit of greenery was Father’s prized hare topiary.”
“Was it so? It did have a look of a rabbit, now that you mention it,” Morag mused.
Brisbane cleared his throat. The muscle in his jaw was not yet jumping, but it was twitching ever so slightly.
“Morag, kindly tell his lordship everything he needs to know about the pearls.”
The chaos behind us had eased to a mild roar, and it appeared Father and Sir Cedric were organising a truce. Father had stopped shouting and Sir Cedric had resumed his seat, his colour still alarmingly high.
Morag clucked her tongue, thinking hard. “Well, this morning, after I tended the wee doggie, I realised I had best look sharpish about finishing Lady Julia’s room because luncheon was nearly over. I went in with a bit of under-linen—” she whispered the word “—and that was when I realised the pearls were not on the dressing table.”
“What do you mean they were not on the dressing table? You did not put them away first thing this morning? They ought to have been locked up as soon as you finished dressing me.”
She pursed her lips. “And how was I supposed to do that and tend to Florence? You said to take care of the doggie.”
“Because I thought you understood the pearls were to be taken care of immediately.”
“But you did notsayso,” Morag countered, her expression triumphant.
“I did not think I had to,” I said through gritted teeth. “I assumed you knew a parure of pearls worth thousands of pounds would be of a higher priority than ministering to the needs of a dog.”
“And you are quite certain the pearls were there this morning?” Brisbane cut in smoothly.
Morag and I paused, staring at one another.
“Now that you mention it…” she began.
“Oh,no,” I moaned. I had removed the pearls myself the previous evening, dropping them onto the dressing table when I had collected Morag to take her to the chapel to sit with Lucy. I could not say with certainty I had seen them since.
Morag shook her head. “No, m’lord. They were gone when I brought the tea things this morning.”
Brisbane’s eyes narrowed. “You are quite certain?”
She nodded. “I am. I remember now. I did not have to move them aside to put down the tea tray. Lady Julia put them square in the middle of the table last night. If they had been there this morning, they would have been in my way.”
Brisbane thought for a moment. “That will do for now, Morag.”
She bobbed another curtsey and fled, giving me one last nasty look over her shoulder.
“I cannot believe they are gone. So careless,” I fretted.
“Perhaps not gone. Just mislaid,” Brisbane said, his expression thoughtful. He was staring at the luncheon guests, and in that instant, I knew he suspected someone in particular of having stolen them. But he said nothing.
Involuntarily, my hand went to my pocket, feeling the outline of the knotted handkerchief with its cache of Aunt Hermia’s humble jewels. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what I had discovered in Snow’s room, but as I watched him stare at the assembled company, his expression smugly satisfied, I realised he had no intention of including me in his triumph.
He turned to me. “My lady?” He looked at me quizzically, inviting me to speak.
I smoothed my skirts. “Nothing, Brisbane. I am sure the pearls will turn up eventually.”
* * *
One development of that harrowing lunch party was the revelation to the company at large that Aunt Dorcas was missing. Father made the announcement after coffee, rather offhandedly, in my opinion.
The reaction was predictable. Sir Cedric flew into a rage again, and it took all of Henry Ludlow’s considerable powers of persuasion to settle him down. Portia and Plum fired questions at Father until he raised a hand for silence.
“A poor choice of words on my part. She is not missing. She is elsewhere, and I am assured she is in perfect health,” he finished smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice and I knew he was not as satisfied with the matter as he pretended.
The rest of us stared at each other in bewilderment.