We had an hour's rest before changing for dinner. I spent the time planning how we might set about discovering any clues to the vanished necklace and money. Really it was a good thing Weylin had joined forces with us, because he might at least know where his aunt stayed in Tunbridge Wells. As he was staying at Bishop's Down, it seemed that his aunt might have stayed here, too. We could question the staff as to whom she met. A tour of the jewelry shops and pawnshops was another possible lead, in case she had hawked the necklace. No doubt Weylin had brought the copy with him, which might serve to jog the jewelers’ memory. That was why he had taken it!
What I could not think of was any manner of finding out what had become of Barry's money. It would be just like life if Lord Weylin, who had no need of more wealth, should recover his prize while Mama and I went home empty-handed.
Mama fell into a light nap. At six-thirty I shook her awake and we both made our toilettes for dinner. Not knowing how long we would remain, I had brought two evening gowns with me. I wore the better of them for dinner with Lord Weylin. Borsini had talked me into wearing gowns of a classical design, to go with my “classical” face. Mama calls my draped togalike white crape with gold ribbons around the hem a shroud, and tells me I look a quiz. In fact, I have received several compliments on it, and thought a sophisticated gentleman like Lord Weylin might not despise it.
"Oh, Zoie, you are not wearing the shroud!” Mama exclaimed, when she looked up from her own toilette to see what I had on.
"We are only going down to Weylin's private parlor, Mama. No one will notice what I wear."
"He will notice."
"But then, we have agreed I am not chasing after him."
"And a good thing it is, for you look a quiz, Zoie. Ever since you began those painting lessons, you have let your wardrobe fall into a shambles. And your hair looks very odd, too, in that funny old knot. I have not seen one like it since we buried Grandmama. I hope we do find Barry's money, for you will need every penny of it to nab a husband."
"It is too late to change now,” I said crossly, and went downstairs with my confidence in tatters. It requires confidence to carry off a new and different style. I feared I looked ridiculous, and wished I had not worn the shroud, but was too stubborn or proud to change.
A very elegant-looking female stopped and turned around to examine me as we crossed the lobby. Her expression was not one of mirth, but of interest. The little incident brought my confidence back. When Lord Weylin came toward us, I met him with my head high, and a civil smile on my face.
Chapter Eight
I was aware of Lord Weylin's eyes examining me in a way they had not bothered to do before. His face wore an impassive, polite smile, but the eyes betrayed at least a latent interest in me as a woman. They lingered a moment on my black hair, before moving slowly to my eyes, and lips. I think it was the “shroud” that first caught his attention. Borsini describes it as “clinging to the womanly outlines of the body.” But Weylin was too polite to let his gaze rest on my anatomy.
"Ladies, may I compliment you both on looking particularly lovely this evening,” he said, with a bow.
He took my arm as well as Mama's to lead us to his private parlor. “I have ordered wine and looked over the menu,” he said, “but have waited for you before ordering. The burgundy-or perhaps champagne. Champagne goes with any viands.” His warm gaze suggested the champagne was a complement to my gown.
Mama said, “You are extravagant, milord! Champagne!” as if we had never tasted this rarity. We had an excellent wine cellar when Papa was alive.
Not wishing to ally myself with her provincial sentiment, I examined the menu and chose the sole, with chicken to follow.
Mama said, “That sounds good,” and had the same thing. Lord Weylin urged lobsters and crab and I don't know what all on us, but eventually settled for the sole and roast beef himself.
When the wine was poured, he raised his glass and said, “To our success. May we all leave here richer."
Even in that I spied out a compliment. It was the way he said it, with a secret smile at me. That smile suggested there were other sorts of riches than gold and diamonds.
"To our success,” I repeated, and we all drank.
The auspicious beginning made no progress after the first glass of champagne. Once we had our fish before us, we reverted to discussing business.
I said, “I was wondering, Lord Weylin, as you have come to Bishop's Down, if this is the hotel where your aunt stayed when she was in Tunbridge."
"Just so. This is where she told Mama she stayed. I made inquiries as soon as I arrived, and was told she had been here several years ago, but she has not been here for five years-about the time the necklace disappeared. Yet she continued coming to Tunbridge often, much oftener than before. She only came once a year for the first five years she was with us. Later on, she came four times a year, at the beginning of January, April, July, and October. She was getting older, of course, and might have had more need of the chalybeate waters. Still, that regular timing is interesting."
Mama dropped her fork and exclaimed in a loud voice, “It certainly is! Barry used to go to London four times a year, once a season, at about those same dates."
Weylin stared at her with his jaw hanging slack. “Is that a fact? By God, I think we are on to something here."
"It is certainly a coincidence,” Mama agreed, “but I doubt it can be more than that, for they scarcely knew each other. There would be no reason to hide it if they were friends. They were both single, and free to do what they wanted, even marry."
"Barry took the five thousand from his bank on May the fifteenth,” I said. “That date does not coincide with the date of his visits."
"But he must have spent the money here,” Mama said. “He certainly did not spend it at Hernefield."
"Does something special occur on those dates?” I asked. “I am thinking of some item of interest that could have taken them both from home. Horse races, or meetings of some kind."
"There would be no races in the dead of winter,” Weylin said. “We must discover what other treats the area offers. Margaret was fond of the theater, for instance."
"Surely she would go to London for that,” Mama said. “London is not much farther from Parham than Tunbridge Wells is. Barry's only interest in the theater was the green room."
Over our chicken and roast beef I mentioned my idea of visiting the various jewelry stores and pawnshops. Weylin said he had planned to do that. “You must have wondered why I wanted the glass copy of the necklace,” he said.
"Yes; in fact, I went into the hall to ask you for it before you left Hernefield, but when I saw you with Steptoe, I forgot about it."
"Steptoe,” he said. “He knows something, I think."
"Did he say anything to you?” I asked at once.
"Nothing of any account, but he wore the same oily look he wore when he told me he hadn't seen my Tang vase. The dealer he sold it to would not identify him. I suspect they were in collusion."
"If Steptoe knows anything, what can he hope to gain by not telling us?” Mama asked.
"He is waiting for us to bribe him,” I said.
Weylin shook his head. “I've already tried that. If we have no success here, our next move will be to have Steptoe watched, have him followed when he leaves Hernefield."
Mama said, “You might insert an advertisement in the Tunbridge Journal, asking any friends of Lady Margaret to be in touch with you. She must have had friends here, since she came so often, and over such a long period of time."