"Lady Elinor, would you show me where to find your claret cup?" Cécile asked, a sly smile forming on her lips.
"May I get some for you, Madame du Lac?" Colin asked.
"Non, merci, Monsieur Hargreaves. That would defeat my purpose entirely." She tapped his arm with her fan as she spoke before turning to Mr. Berry. "And you, sir, come with us. I'd like to hear more about your plans for France." Isabelle hung back for a moment, but a sharp glance from her mother spurred her to follow the group.
"I shall never be able to adequately thank Cécile for her continuing interest in leaving me alone with you," Colin said, kissing my hand again as soon as they had left us, "although I'd prefer a more private setting altogether. I should like nothing better than to take you in my arms."
"You wouldn't dare," I replied, half wishing that he would, my hand still warm where his lips had lingered. "But I suppose it's best not to cause a scandal this early in the Season. Are you free for dinner this evening?"
"Unfortunately not. I've a prior engagement."
"A prior engagement?"
"I am a very eligible bachelor, Emily. You must expect that my calendar will be very full in the coming months."
"Well, before you begin proposing to any of the debutantes who are sure to throw themselves at your feet, I do hope you'll consider my feelings. I'd be quite lost if you refused to help me with my Greek."
"How kind of you to find some use for me." He squeezed my hand. "It's work, actually, that will keep me from you tonight."
"Anything that might interest me?" I asked. Colin was frequently called upon by Buckingham Palace to assist in matters that, as he explained it, required more than a modicum of discretion.
"Definitely not." Without another word, he led me, rather forcefully, to a quiet corner of the garden, where, though we did not have the privacy my library would have afforded, we were able to greet each other in a much more satisfactory manner.
That night, though I wished I could have seen Colin, I applied myself to translating passages from Homer's Odyssey. I brought my work to bed, where I continued to read until I drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened long before morning, disturbed by the hard cover of the book, which had wedged itself against my back. Sitting up, I gathered my now wrinkled papers and placed them on the bedside table. As I laid the volume of Homer on top of them, something moved near the wall across from me. I hesitated for only a moment before quietly slipping out of bed to investigate, but I was too late. There was nothing there. I might have dismissed it as a dream had I not noticed the curtains begin to sway. Flinging them aside, I half expected to find someone standing before me. Instead, all I saw was the window, which had been closed when I went to bed, now wide open, rain blowing into my chamber.
I quickly lit every lamp in the room, and the flitting shadows that followed me startled me whenever they caught my eye. It was summer, but I felt a chill that I could not shake. My silk curtains were soaked and ruined, but other than that, everything looked as it had when I'd fallen asleep. Nonetheless, I rang for my butler and crossed the hallway to the room where Cécile slept. It appeared that I had overreacted until she inspected her jewelry cases. The locks on each of them had been picked, but of all the exquisite pieces that they contained, only one was missing: Marie Antoinette's teardrop-shaped diamond earrings, the ones Cécile had worn that afternoon.
Davis, my butler, sent for the police at once, and their thorough search of my house proved what I had suspected after seeing Cécile's cases: Nothing was missing except the earrings. The priceless antiquities displayed in my library, the old masters' paintings that could be found throughout the house, and my own jewelry were untouched. Not even the two-hundred-carat emerald-and-diamond necklace that sat next to the earrings was disturbed. Our thief had known what he wanted.
"It is difficult to be angry with a man who shows such refined taste," Cécile said the next morning as we sat at the breakfast table. "Clearly he is not motivated by greed."
"It's a pity your dogs did not bark to warn us of the intruder." Cécile refused to leave her home in Paris without her pets and would not come to visit me unless I agreed to let her bring them. Caesar and Brutus were tiny things, more likely to cower at the sight of a cat than to bark at a burglar. "If I had woken up earlier, I might have seen him," I said, frowning. The police had found footprints in the garden beneath my room, and although the rain had washed away any identifying features, they were able to determine that the intruder had entered the house through my window. This revelation had deeply disturbed Davis, who reprimanded the entire staff and assured me that he would personally check the locks in the house every evening. I did not hold anyone responsible. Had it not been raining, I would have directed my maid to leave the window open, and I said as much to Colin when he arrived to find Cécile and me still at breakfast.
"Best to keep the windows closed and locked in the future. I am most relieved to see both of you unharmed after your ordeal. I wouldn't have called at such a beastly hour if I weren't concerned about you."
Cécile smiled. "I've always wanted to breakfast with you, Monsieur Hargreaves. Let me assure you we are quite fine, though I suspect that had you been here last night, my earrings would not have vanished. How unfortunate that you had other plans."
"Even if I had called last night, I would not have been here so late."
Cécile looked at me pointedly. "That, of course, is not for me to say," she said.
"How did you learn of the theft?" I asked.
"A friend in Scotland Yard alerted me."
"And will you investigate?"
"No, Emily. I'm not a detective."
"Such is our misfortune, Monsieur Hargreaves," Cécile said.
"It is a strange case, though," Colin said. "Lord Grantham's house was broken into three weeks ago, and the only object taken was a Limoges box. The following week, a gilt inkwell disappeared from the home of Mrs. Blanche Wilmot. Both items belonged to Marie Antoinette."
"I have great hopes for our thief, Monsieur Hargreaves," Cécile said. "It is rare to find a man with such focus."
"There is no reason to think that he will come here again, unless one of you is hiding another of the ill-fated queen's possessions."
"We aren't, so I suppose we're safe," I said, rubbing my temples and suddenly feeling very tired. "I admit that it's unnerving to have been so violated."
"I shall have Inspector Manning, who has been assigned to the case, step up patrols near your house. You needn't worry."
"I don't know the inspector, but you, Monsieur Hargreaves, inspire absolute confidence," Cécile said. "I will quite depend upon you." She patted his arm as she walked past him. "Do not keep Kallista too long." Cécile had not abandoned her habit of calling me by the name my late husband had used for me.
"Excitement seems to follow you," Colin said, accepting the cup of tea I poured for him.
"It's following Cécile. I've never owned anything of Marie Antoinette's."
"I'm glad of it." His dark eyes flashed. "I cannot stand thinking of that criminal in your room. I should have come to you last night."
"Cécile's remark was not meant as a rebuke. She merely wanted me to ponder the idea of having you here so late at night. She's quite a corrupting influence."
"Then I am forever indebted to her."
"As you should be."
"And did you ponder the idea of having me here so late at night?"