Page 25 of The Stolen Sparkler
Upon arriving, we found Lord Needham pacing the study, his brow furrowed with worry. He looked up as we entered. The flicker of hope in his eyes dimmed at our somber expressions.
“You didn’t find it,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation.
“No,” Steele replied, his tone clipped. “If Burkett has it, he’s hidden it well.”
Needham sighed and rubbed his temple. “I spoke to Lavinia while you were engaged in your search. You were right. She witnessed Felicity sneaking into Eleanor’s room and emerging with a velvet bag in her hand. When she overheard Eleanor telling Cumberforth about the missing necklace, she realized Felicity had stolen it. At that point, she decided to take matters into her own hands and write the blackmail note.”
“Why didn’t she come to Eleanor or you?” I asked.
“She wanted to claim the glory of finding the necklace.”
“Silly chit,” Steele exclaimed.
“Yes, she is that,” Needham agreed. “She claimed she never intended to act on her threats. She only wanted the necklace returned.”
Steele raised an eyebrow. “You believed her?”
“I don’t know,” Needham admitted. “Lavinia thrives on drama, but she also values her place in society. Ruining her cousin’s name would tarnish hers as well.”
Before we could delve further, the sound of voices filtered in from the hallway. Felicity and the church party had returned, their laughter incongruous with the tension weighing on the duke, Needham, and me.
“I’ll see everyone retires to their rooms to prepare for supper,” Needham said in a weary voice. “We could all use a moment to gather ourselves.”
As the guests dispersed, Steele stepped closer to Needham. “We can’t let this fester any longer. Issue an invitation to everyone involved to meet here at seven. Lavinia, Burkett, Felicity—anyone with a stake in this matter. It’s time to get to the truth.”
Needham nodded. “You’re right.”
Steele reached out to press Lord Needham’s shoulder in a show of support. “We’ll confront them together.”
I glanced at Steele, noting the determination etched into his features. Despite my lingering irritation with him, I couldn’t deny his resolve. Tonight, one way or another, we would uncover the truth and restore Eleanor’s necklace whatever it took.
CHAPTER 11
RESTORING THE NECKLACE
AT THE TIME AGREED UPON, the duke and I followed Lord Needham into his study. Once more I was struck by the solemn majesty of the room. The scent of pipe tobacco hung faintly in the air, mingling with the musty aroma of aged books lining the oak-paneled walls. It was a fitting stage for the drama that awaited us—a drama whose tension was almost palpable before we even crossed the threshold.
Inside, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken accusations. Eleanor sat rigid on a chaise, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her eyes flitted nervously between her cousin Lavinia, who looked as though she were about to deliver a scathing proclamation, and Lord Cumberforth, who stood nearby with a composed yet wary expression. Across the room, Felicity shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixed firmly on the intricate carpet beneath her feet. By the fireplace sat Lord Burkett, his stern visage as unreadable as a granite statue.
“Good evening,” Lord Needham said to those assembled there, his tone somber. The duke and I took our places near the hearth. While he stood, I chose to sit, both of us prepared to observe before speaking.
“What the devil are we doing here, Needham?” Lord Burkett demanded, his voice brimming with fury, his eyes narrowing in barely restrained anger.
Lord Needham met the outburst head-on, his stance unyielding, his tone as steely as his resolve. “My daughter Eleanor’s diamond necklace has gone missing, Burkett. As you can imagine, it has caused her great distress. But the implications reach far beyond the theft itself. There are deeper truths at stake. They will all be revealed here tonight no matter where they lead.”
"I wonder," Lavinia began, her voice honeyed with venom, "if by deeper truths you mean the unsavory rumors surrounding Edwin." The crimson feathers that adorned her head trembled. She just couldn’t help herself, scandalmonger that she was. "I, for one, refuse to stand idly by while?—"
"Enough, Lavinia," Needham snapped, his sharp tone cutting her off. "This is no time for unfounded accusations."
Unfounded, perhaps, but not forgotten. The tension in the room thickened, and I braced myself for the storm that was about to break.
Just then, the door swung open with a bang, startling us all. Needham’s younger brother, Martin, strode in, his face dark with anger. Trailing behind him was Edwin, his normally composed demeanor replaced by a nervous pallor.
“Martin,” Needham said. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“On the contrary, brother, this is exactly where I need to be.” He glanced at Edwin with a father’s fond gaze. "Edwin has told me everything. I will not have his reputation dragged through the mud by petty gossip and lies. I will not allow my son’s honorto be sullied!” Martin declared, his voice echoing in the confined space.
"Petty gossip, is it?" Lavinia stood, her cheeks flushed with indignation. "Everyone knows the truth, Uncle Martin."
