Page 35 of Thief of the Ton
He nodded. “A recent spate of thefts among Society has been brought to my attention. My understanding of the pieces that have been reported stolen, and the link between them, will assist in bringing the criminal to justice.”
“The…criminal?”
His expression hardened. “Would you defend a thief, Miss de Grande?”
“O-of course not,” she said, “but what makes you think there’s a link between the thefts? People steal for all manner of reasons—perhaps because they’re hungry and need money for food, or coal. It happens all the time on London’s streets.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “but a theft of a particular item from a country mansion, or a London townhouse, is not an opportunistic crime perpetrated by a hungry beggar. Rather, it’s a deliberate act to suit a particular purpose.”
“Which is?”
He shrugged. “I’ve yet to ascertain that. But I’m by no means discouraged. A pattern will emerge eventually—it’s merely a matter of time. I have a feeling that the case I’m investigating now is of a very personal matter.”
“In what way?”
“You seem to have a particular interest in the thief, Miss de Grande.”
Her heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze.
Damn—she’d shown too much interest. Why couldn’t she behave like an empty-headed debutante and restrict her conversation to ribbons and lace? He was not a man to be fooled with—his expression spoke of a keen mind and a sharp wit.
“Miss de Grande!”
Lavinia jumped at the shrill female voice.
“What are you doing outside in the cold?” Lady Francis stood in the doorway, next to her husband. “Has your aunt not told you that wandering about creates a most undesirable impression? I wouldn’t want you to ruin… Oh!” She let out a cry. “I didn’t see you there, Lord Marlow. I do hope Miss de Grande isn’t plaguing you too much.”
“Lady Francis, do you impugn Miss de Grande’s honor—or mine?” he asked.
“O-of course not, Lord Marlow. I knowyou’dnever behave in an untoward manner.”
“Quite so.” He gestured toward the cup in Lavinia’s hand. “Miss de Grande fancied taking the air, and I brought her a cup of coffee.”
“So I see.”
“And the terrace doors have been open all the time, with Miss de Grande’s chaperone within earshot,” he continued.
“My wife meant no offense,” Lord Francis said. “Did you, my dear? You often venture onto the terrace during a ball, do you not? You’re always complaining of overheating. I recall Lady Hardstone’s ball, when Mr. Moss escorted you outside.”
Lady Francis blushed. “Yes, yes!” she cried, irritation in her voice. “We’re not here to make idle chatter.” She turned to Marlow. “My dear Lord Marlow, do say you’ve agreed to help me.”
“Help you?”
“In finding that brigand, of course!” she cried. “The falcon—is that it?”
“ThePhoenix,” Lord Francis said. “Damn the man!”
“The—Phoenix?” Lavinia couldn’t help asking, though her stomach twisted into knots.
“Lord Marlow issoclever, Miss de Grande,” Lady Francis said. “I daresay he’ll have ensnared the criminal before the month is out.”
“I look forward to seeing him behind bars,” Lord Francis added. “It’s a pity theft isn’t a hanging offense.”
Cold fingers brushed against the back of Lavinia’s neck. “Surely you wouldn’t want a man to hang for stealing a vase?” Three pair of eyes focused on her, and she cursed herself. “L-Lord Marlow said something about a vase having been taken. Did you not, Lord Marlow?”
“Lord Marlow is a veritable wonder,” Lady Francis said. “He was instrumental in solving the theft of Lady Wadchester’s tea set two years ago. It had foxed the authorities, but Lord Marlow hunted it down—where did you find it, again?”
“An establishment in Lombard Street, Lady Francis.”
