Page 62 of Miss Dramatic
Gavin bent his head and spoke near Rose’s ear, lest she mistake his words. “I love you. I love your ferocious passion and your abiding sense of respect for the land. I love your laughter and your tender heart. I loathe that I gave you occasion for tears. Am I forgiven?”
Rose rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Drysdale threatened me, too, didn’t he?”
Gavin considered lying, then mentally kicked himself for even entertaining the notion. This was Rose—his Rose—and her acumen was another reason he loved her.
“Yes, and he had a front-row seat to our affair in Derbyshire. He’ll make you out to be the merriest widow ever to disgrace her husband’s memory.”
Rose was quiet, and Gavin could feel her thoughts whirling like a mill wheel. “It’s worse than that, isn’t it?” she said. “Many a widow has enjoyed her freedom. Society grants her that latitude, provided she’s discreet. You mentioned a necklace. Will he accuse me of stealing it when he’s done blaming you for its disappearance?”
A queasy dread had Gavin stepping back. “He… could. He said the players would connive to provide enough testimony to see me transported, or worse. If he’s willing to go to those lengths, he’s probably holding the threat of criminal charges against you in reserve, but you’re right. He will get there eventually.” While Rose had made the leap nigh instantly.
“Tavistock would tell you to take a repairing lease on the Continent.”
“Tavistock would tellusto take that repairing lease.”
“I cannot abandon Colforth Hall as harvest approaches. You have reinforcements here, Gavin. Tavistock, your family, Lord Phillip… They will all manage your interests in your absence.”
“Tavistock took a repairing lease on the Continent, and it nearly ended in disaster. I larked off to join Drysdale’s Players, and that, too, nearly ended in disaster. I am loath to retreat this time, Rose.”
“Thieves and threats, harvest bearing down, villains skulking about in the hedges, and missing necklaces nobody has seen… This would make a fine stage play.” She returned to his embrace. “Don’t ever snub me like that again, Gavin. I don’t care if the hounds of hell will turn on me should you show me any favor. You cannot employ that tactic with me ever, for any reason.”
She fit in his embrace perfectly. Always had. “I might have to. Drysdale can ruin you and me both. Your best bet is to leave here, enraged with me, letting all and sundry know that I am the last man you will ever spare a thought for, unless it’s to pray for my doom.”
“And then highwaymen will hold up my fleeing coach, and Drysdale will be their leader, and you will thwart them, and all will come right before the curtain comes down, except this isn’t a comedy, Gavin. Transport ships leave regularly for the Antipodes, and I’m sure a fair number of their passengers are innocent of any crime save bad luck.”
Gavin held her, breathed with her, and considered her words. Running wasn’t an option. Paying Drysdale off wasn’t an option. Ignoring his threats wasn’t an option. How to end the play so the villain got his just deserts, and virtue was rewarded?
“The first thing we do,” he said, “is expand the cast. Your thinking and mine are the same in that regard. Increase the forces on the side of right. Then we add to the confusion and befuddle our foe, until he either surrenders or flees the scene.”
“He needs to flee the country, Gavin. I’ll not have that man lurking in the wings of our life.”
“Neither will I.” The library door opened to reveal Tavistock, flanked by Lord Phillip, Lady Phillip, and Amaryllis. “Our reinforcements have arrived. Friends, have a seat. We have much to discuss.”
Tavistock settled his wife at the foot of the table while Lord Phillip held a chair for his Hecate.
“We’re not wandering into the village to swill cider and be gawked at by our neighbors?” Lord Phillip asked.
“Not today,” Gavin said.
“Mama will escort the ladies,” Amaryllis said. “We are guaranteed a bit of privacy, but not for long. Gavin, enough theatrics. What on earth is going on?”
“We have a thief in our midst,” he said, “possibly two thieves. Caroline and Diana caught Lady Iris going through Rose’s wardrobe, and her ladyship was minimally disguised as a maid at the time.”
Rose, who’d resumed her corner seat, thumped a fist on the table. “That’s where you saw Lady Iris before, Gavin. She was a maid up in Derbyshire. Wore her hair under a cap, often had a smudge of ash on her cheek. Her spectacles sat ever so slightly crookedly on her nose.”
Gavin wanted to blow Rose a kiss. “You’re right, and we noticed the smudge and the glasses and were distracted from the fine features and lovely eyes. The rest of you, lend me thine ears, because Drysdale is threatening to bring charges against me, destroy Rose’s reputation, and ruin Diana’s chances in Town unless I can produce a certain ruby necklace, which he claims I stole in Derbyshire.”
That announcement inspired a babble ofhow dare heandbrood of vipersanddeserves a proper hiding. Gavin let the expostulations fly for a moment, then waded in with further explanations.
“That ruby necklace—if it exists—doesn’t belong to Drysdale,” Tavistock said at a lull in the exchange. “If he got his hands on a piece like that, he’d be pawning it on Ludgate Hill and buying himself a little manor house, not racketing about from market green to village crossroads to spa town.”
Lord Phillip wrinkled his nose. “He stole it first, you mean, and then somebody stole it from him?”
“My vote goes to Lady Iris,” Rose said. “She’s more than a bit peculiar. She’s skulking and lurking, and now that I think about it, somebody might have stolen my pearl earbobs in Derbyshire. I am lamentably careless with my jewelry—none of it is worth much—but I liked those earbobs. Bought them for myself in London.”
“We need a plan,” Amaryllis said. “I’ll not have Miller’s Lament’s first house party become an object of scandal. Drysdale must be sent packing, and before he can cause any more trouble. Tavistock?”
The marquess, who’d once again propped an elbow against the mantel, straightened. “Thief-taking is not in my gift. Phillip?”
