Page 76 of Thief of the Ton
The old crone had a point. A frost had descended in the atmosphere as several hostile pairs of eyes stared at him.
Then an unlikely ally came to his aid. Miss de Grande rose to her feet.
“Letmebe the first to submit my chamber for inspection,” she said. “May I also suggest that you have the carriages searched, and the servants’ quarters? The culprit might have coerced their valet—or maid—into concealing the painting.”
“Well—really!” another voice said. “This is most objectionable.”
“I shall conduct the searches with the utmost discretion, Lady Withering, I assure you,” Peregrine said. “I like it no more than you—but it must be done to stop the Phoenix. You and Lord Withering might be his next victims.”
Lady Withering colored. “Oh, very well,” she said, “but I like it not.”
“Do you approve of this, Hythe?” Lord Francis asked. “It’s your house that’s about to suffer violation.”
Lord Hythe nodded. “With reluctance, I do. I want the culprit found and punished.”
Lord Francis sighed. “In which case, I suppose it’s best to submit, then once this humiliation is over, we might enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
“Once this is over, I’ll stand each of you drinks at White’s,” Peregrine said. “Except the culprit, of course.”
A murmur of laughter rippled through the party.
Miss de Grande rose and approached Peregrine. “You may inspect my chamber first—and Aunt Edna’s.” She turned to her companion. “Aunt—shall we?”
Nodding, the dowager took her arm, and the two women followed Peregrine and Lord Hythe out of the breakfast room.
As they approached the staircase, Miss de Grande paused.
“Might I make a further suggestion, Lord Marlow?”
“Lavinia!” Lady Yates said. “What have I said about speaking out of turn?”
“Please—speak,” Peregrine said.
“I wonder, as a precaution, whether the gallery should be guarded—in case the thief returns.”
“The painting’s already been stolen, Miss de Grande,” Lord Hythe said. “He’ll not strike again.”
“But if the Phoenix is as clever as you say”—she glanced toward the breakfast room, then lowered her voice—“that’s what he’dexpectyou to think. As Lady Hythe explained on our tour of the house yesterday, the gallery boasts a number of extremely valuable works.”
Peregrine stared at her, unable to suppress his admiration. “The young lady has a point, Hythe,” he said. “Perhaps you should set a footman at each end of the gallery to watch over it tonight. But I’d suggest we not speak of this to the other guests. We might catch the Phoenix in the act.”
“Very well,” Hythe said. “I’ll settwofootmen at each end, and at every door leading outside. I’m taking no chances.” He nodded to Lavinia. “Thank you, young lady. Perhaps Marlow should employ you as an assistant.”
“Oh, no, Lord Hythe!” Lady Yates cried. “I wouldn’t have my niece engage in anything so vulgar.”
Peregrine exchanged a smile with Miss de Grande. Relief washed over him at the warmth in her eyes. He’d acted like an arse last night. Not only had he come close to compromising her, he’d pushed her away, too occupied in containing the erection in his breeches to have any concern for her feelings.
And, he’d discovered, her feelings—her happiness—were as important to him as catching the Phoenix.
*
“That’s the lastof the trunks, sir.”
Peregrine glanced up from his notes to see his valet in the doorway. “I take it the painting was nowhere to be found?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not, sir. Lord Hythe won’t be pleased.”
“I daresay he won’t.” Peregrine gestured to the seat opposite the desk. “Sit, Lawson. Take a little brandy.”
