Page 56 of Thief of the Ton
“The one you were wearing,” Eleanor said. “It looked…differentat the end of the evening, compared to the beginning.”
“Perhaps that’s because you were tired,” Lavinia said. “Everything looks different when we’re tired.”
Eleanor frowned. “I wasn’t tired, and I’m not stupid. You were wearing a different necklace. The emerald looked morealiveat the end of the evening. At first I wondered if it was the light, but it was a much deeper shade of green, with notes of blue. And the rubies surrounding it were more even in size. Earlier in the evening, the rubies on the left side of the emerald were a little smaller than those on the right.” She set her cup aside. “Then, when you were dancing, I knew for sure that it was a different necklace.”
“How so?”
“The clasp was different. When you were waiting in line for the dance with Lord Marlow, you had your back to me. The clasp had a pattern etched into it to match the rest of the necklace. Yet the necklace you wore at the start of the evening had a plain, smooth clasp.”
“And because of that you think I’m the Phoenix?” Lavinia asked.
Eleanor leaned back, her cheeks flaming. “Forgive me. I meant no offense,” she said. “But when you disappeared, then returned wearing a different necklace, I wondered if you’d stolen it. Everyone’s talking about a thief called the Phoenix. I wondered if it might be you.”
Sweet Lord…
“I’m right, aren’t I?” A broad grin spread across Eleanor’s face. “Tell me I’m right!”
“Hush!” Lavinia said. “You must promise not to breathe a word of it.”
“On my honor.”
“In which case, itisme,” Lavinia confessed. “Do you think I’m in danger of anyone else discovering me?”
“Perhaps not,” Eleanor said. “I have a habit of noticing detail that others miss. It’s landed me in trouble before, when Mother has scolded me for being impertinent, so I often keep my observations to myself. Was it you who stole Lady Francis’s ginger jar?”
“Yes, that was me.”
“Marvelous!” Eleanor cried. “How did you manage it? It disappeared during Lady Francis’s house party, didn’t it? But you weren’t there at the time.”
“I climbed in through a window in the middle of the night.”
Eleanor choked on her tea, sending droplets of liquid into the air. “Youwhat?”
Lavinia leaned back and set her cup aside. “It was a risk, but I had luck on my side.”
“It was ahugerisk!” Eleanor cried. “The ginger jar must have a particular significance to make you go to such lengths. Like the necklace—most people would have simply stolen it, rather than have a replica made to swap it with.”
Lavinia stared at her friend. Beneath Eleanor’s rather dull, almost slow-witted exterior lay a sharp mind with a talent for observation. There was no sense in concealing the truth from her.
“The ginger jar and the necklace have a personal significance,” Lavinia said.
“Are they family heirlooms that your father lost, along with his fortune?”
Lavinia nodded. “Papa was led to ruination by five of his friends, who each took something precious from him. I am taking back what’s rightfully his.”
“How marvelous,” Eleanor said. “It’s so romantic—a quest to restore your family honor.”
“And your painting will further my quest.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “How can that be? That Lely painting has been in the Hythe family for generations.”
“I’m not going to stealthatpainting,” Lavinia said. “I intend to outwit my pursuer—to throw him off the scent.”
“Like a fox outwits the hounds?” Eleanor shook her head. “The fox is always flushed out in the end, and you know what happens then—she’s torn to pieces by her predators.”
“Nevertheless, I owe it to Papa to seek retribution on the men who destroyed him, the worst of all being—”
The door opened to reveal Aunt Edna, together with a footman.
