Page 110 of Thief of the Ton
“And yet you haven’t set foot in it for ten years.”
The earl gestured toward Houseman. “Should you be insulting your father in front of a guest?” He wrinkled his nose. “Not that I approve of your inviting tradesmen to dine.”
Houseman stopped chewing.
“Why don’t you join us, Father?” Peregrine said. “Assuming Houseman has left you any bacon.”
“Houseman, you say?” The earl took a seat, then glanced at their guest with interest. “You’re the one investigating the thefts with my son?”
“How do you know about the thefts?” Peregrine asked.
“Lord Caldicott sent me a letter after his sword was stolen.”
“Hewroteto you?” Peregrine asked. “Whatever for? And why would that necessitate your coming here?”
“Don’t be insolent, boy! Caldicott’s an old friend.” The earl glanced toward Houseman again. “We were at Cambridge together—St John’s College. Have you heard of it?”
Houseman shrugged.
The footman approached the earl with a plate, but he waved it away. “Fetch me some tea.”
“Very good, your lordship.”
After the footman exited the breakfast room, the earl leaned forward. “As it happens, I returned because of the thefts. I fear I’m to be the next target.”
“What makes you think that?” Peregrine asked.
“It’s not your place to question me,” the earl said. “Your duty is to do as I say.”
Peregrine had begun to wonder whether he’d been uncharitable in his feelings toward his father. But now, sat next to the pompous, dictatorial old man, he understood why he’d felt nothing but relief when the old bastard retired to the Continent.
“Very well, Father—do you know what the Phoenix intends to steal from you?”
“A clock,” Father said. “At Marlow Park.”
“Any clock in particular?” Peregrine asked. “After all, there’s several in the main building alone, let alone the whole of the estate.”
The earl shot him a sour look. “A French mantel clock—it’s in the drawing room.”
Peregrine closed his eyes, trying to picture the interior of his ancestral home. But he’d not visited for years. “I don’t recall it,” he said. “Is it a family heirloom?”
“I purchased it at auction.”
At auction…
Just like the other stolen items.
Something connected them. Perhaps Father was the link?
“Ibelieve you, Lord Walton,” Houseman said. “Lord Hythe knew which of his paintings had been stolen even before it had been discovered missing—didn’t he, Marlow?”
The earl drew in a sharp breath. “Hythe, you say?”
“Yes—it was discovered missing almost a fortnight ago.”
The earl snorted. “Hythe always was a lily-livered fool. No balls to speak of. Well, that settles it. We must go to Marlow Park forthwith to prevent the theft of the clock—though, perhaps, we may be too late.”
“Or,” Houseman said, a sly smile on his lips, “perhaps, for the first time, we’re one step ahead of the Phoenix.”
