“Such an unusual household,” Charlotte King murmured finally. “First jewels disappearing, now people. I begin to think I am in a faery story of the most fantastic kind.” Her lips trembled a little, and I almost felt sorry for her. “Perhaps we ought to look for her,” she ventured.
“Unnecessary,” Father cut in sharply. “Amuse yourselves as you will this afternoon. I shall be in my study and I do not wish to be disturbed unless God Almighty himself comes to call.”
He rose and threw down his napkin, stalking off, Crab and a few of her pups trotting closely behind.
Charlotte, perhaps chagrined at being dismissed so brutally, bit her lip. Plum leaned near and murmured something that brought a sudden smile to her face. Through it all, Brisbane appeared thoroughly disinterested. He merely sipped at his coffee as though waiting for something to happen.
For my part, all I could think on was the pearls and what Father had said of Aunt Dorcas’ penchant for pocketing little trinkets she admired. Was it possible she had taken my pearls and then fled with them? But the weather would have made that impossible, I reminded myself.
“Perhaps then a walk on the battlements of the boundary wall,” Charlotte said. “I should so like some fresh air.”
“That sounds delightful,” Plum said, his fez fairly quivering with anticipation. They made to depart, and I signalled to my brother.
“Plum, a word, dear. Mrs. King will want to fetch her warmest things if you mean to venture onto the battlements, and this will only take a moment.” He agreed, with bad grace, and we watched as Violante rose quickly, with Hortense’s gentle support. She had soothed the girl and promised Lysander she would look after her and sit with her while she rested. Lysander gave her thanks, but grudgingly so. In spite of himself, he was beginning to like Father’sinamorata.
Sir Cedric and Henry Ludlow excused themselves next, Ludlow moving quickly to keep up with his volatile kinsman. I had been correct in my initial estimation of Sir Cedric: he was only lightly civilised, as his behaviour of late had shown. He could play the gentleman well enough, but when provoked by circumstances, he reverted to the slum-born starveling. He had come so far from the poverty and degradation of his upbringing, I reflected, but I wondered if he had come quite so far as he pretended.
And as I regarded Sir Cedric, a horrible thought rose in my mind. If Lucy had indeed taken the blame for another’s crime deliberately, as well she might have, what man would she have better reason to shield than her own fiancé? Remembering the bruises on Snow’s neck, I glanced at Sir Cedric’s hands. The fingers themselves were not long, but his palms were broad as an ape’s. His handspan would fit the bruises perfectly. I looked from his sturdy hands to his supple wrists. It had been a mistake to look at this man and see only the web of wrinkles at his eyes, the mane of hair shot with silver. I had ignored the strength left in him, the savagery that might well lurk just below the surface. What would it take to rouse it? I wondered.
“I have to speak with Cook about tea,” Portia announced. “That seed cake she served yesterday was appalling, and if she sends up wine biscuits one more time…of course she is very sensitive. She might just as well throw a cleaver at my head as give me a ginger biscuit.”
She rose and looped her arm through Alessandro’s, pulling him to his feet. “I know. I shall bring her this delicious young man as a peace offering.”
Alessandro seemed to struggle to find the proper words. “My lady, I would be very happy to accompany you, but Lady Julia’s pearls. Perhaps we ought to search for them.”
Portia smiled at him fondly. “Yes, and as soon as I have spoken to Cook, we will poke around belowstairs and see if we can find them. Perhaps Morag forgot what she was about and left them in the pantry.”
Alessandro threw me a pleading glance, but I pretended not to see it. As much as I enjoyed his company, and as much as he deserved to be rescued from my sister, I was acutely aware of his intentions after his declaration of the previous night. I had no wish to be alone with him until I had formed an answer to his question. At present, I could give him none. The investigation, with all its winding paths and blind alleys, demanded my full attention.
Finally, only Plum, Brisbane, and I remained in the dining room. I excused myself, dragging Plum into the transept while Brisbane savoured his coffee. I glanced around to make quite certain we were alone.
“What is it, Julia?” Plum asked, folding his arms over his chest.
“It is Alessandro. You’ve been frightfully negligent hosts, you and Ly both. You must do something with him this afternoon.”
“Like what? In case you have failed to notice, the Abbey is inescapable.”
“Not for Aunt Dorcas,” I muttered.
He rolled his eyes. “Aunt Dorcas is famous for disappearing when there is trouble because usually she is the cause of it.”
I poked his chest as hard as I could, pressing hard on one of the tourmaline buttons of his waistcoat. “I hardly think she is responsible for the murder of Mr. Snow.”
“Ouch. I meant the theft of your pearls. She’s a terrible old cat about pearls, you must know that.”
“Father did say something to that effect,” I admitted. “But how did she leave the Abbey? And where is she now?”
Plum shrugged. “She might have gone to the village to call upon Uncle Fly. She might have taken the train to London. She might have gone home for all we know.”
I blinked at him. “I had not considered that. I suppose she might have left before the snow was too thick to travel. Buthow?”
“Julia, Father said not to worry. He has had word she is all right. She is probably sitting at the Home Farm, warming herself by the fire and driving Benedick to madness.”
I remembered then what Portia had said about Benedick braving the snow to come up to the Abbey and shout news to Father.
“Of course. I am just being silly. I’m sure she is perfectly fine. But about Alessandro—”
He groaned and raised his hands. “Very well. I promise to entertain him properly. But not now. Charlotte is waiting.”