Emily pulled aside a low-hanging branch and peered through the trees at Brimley Hall, peaceful and basking in the pale light of the moon. All of the house’s occupants were asleep in their beds, never suspecting what was going to occur or how they were about to be victimized.
A shaft of anguish pierced her.
“If we’re going to do this, then we’d better get to it,” Miles whispered from where he hunkered behind a nearby bush. “We’ve already lingered ’ere far too long and the ’orses are getting restless.”
It was true. They’d been lying in wait for over an hour. Behind her, Emily could hear Artemis snorting and pawing the ground, and Jenna trying to calm her in a low, soothing tone. The other two horses stirred skittishly at the mare’s agitation.
She could no longer afford to hesitate. If they tarried much longer, there was always the chance they could be discovered. It was time to act.
Placing a hand against her roiling stomach, she gazed heavenward. How she hated this. It was especially hard after having just spent yesterday morning in Lord Moreland’s company, behaving as if everything were normal when it was far from it. But for now, she could see no other option. She could only pray that God—and eventually Adam and his father—would forgive her.
“All right.” She looked back over her shoulder at her companions. “Jenna, you stay here with our mounts. Miles will come with me.”
“Wait a minute.” Jenna placed a hand on her hip and glared in the stable hand’s direction. “Why do I ’ave to stay ’ere and Miles gets to go?”
Emily closed her eyes in weary frustration. “Jenna, we don’t have time for this.”
“I just don’t understand, is all. I want to ’elp and—”
“Bloody ’ell, must you argue about everything, woman?” Miles rose and turned to face her, scowling. “You’re staying wiv the ’orses because Lady Em asked you to. And it’s not as if I ’aven’t done my share of waiting wiv them while you two did all the skulking about. You don’t ’ave to be in the middle of everything, you know.”
Jenna lifted her chin in defiance. “I don’t expect to be in the middle of everything. But I do want to be there if Emily needs me. I don’t see ’ow I can do that if I stay ’ere.”
Emily watched in fascinated dismay as Miles took several steps forward until he was almost nose to nose with the bristling, dark-haired woman. The moonlight illuminated the angry red of his freckled face, the gleam of temper in his green eyes. “Believe me, you’ll be the first to know if we need your ’elp. Now, stay wiv the ’orses and quit being so difficult.”
“Difficult? Oh, I like that! All I want to do is ’elp and you’re calling me difficult? Well, you’re not my boss, Miles Riley, and I refuse to let you tell me what to do.”
Emily closed her eyes and prayed once again—this time for patience. She loved both her friends dearly, but this was getting out of hand. They were behaving like children, and at the worst possible time.
She was just getting ready to intervene, to point out that it didn’t matter who stayed with the horses as long as someone did, when Miles let out a growl.
“That bloody well tears it!” Seizing Jenna by the arms, he yanked her against him and brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, ruthless kiss.
It lasted for what seemed to the astonished Emily to be an endless moment. Then the stable hand put the girl from him and gave her a firm shake, his expression conveying absolute authority. “Now, are you going to stay wiv the ’orses, or do I need to tie you to a tree?”
Looking dazed as she gazed up at him, Jenna shook her head, nodded, then shook her head again before her fingers drifted up to touch her kiss-swollen mouth in obvious disbelief.
Emily shook off her temporary paralysis and cleared her throat. “Well, er…I suppose that settles it. Jenna, we shouldn’t be too long. But if you notice anything amiss, I want you to take the horses and get out of here as fast as you can. Do you understand?”
The younger woman nodded again, but it was hard to tell whether she’d actually heard or not. She was too busy staring at Miles with wide, unfocused eyes.
As Emily led the way from their place of concealment, she glanced back at Jenna one last time to see her friend standing in the same spot, seeming stunned and unable to move.
She couldn’t help the hint of amusement that crept into her voice as she looked at Miles. “Looks like you made your point.”
“Yes.” The frown faded from the stable hand’s face to be replaced with a self-satisfied smile. “Looks like I did.”
The two of them cut across the wide lawn at the rear of Brimley Hall, keeping to the shadows of the surrounding trees and bushes. All was quiet, not a sound penetrating the almost unearthly stillness.
If things went as planned, they should be able to carry this off with little difficulty. Having known Lord Brimley from childhood, Emily was aware the elderly marquis kept most of his valuables in his safe in the ground-floor library, but Adam had long ago mentioned that his mother’s brooch still resided in her keepsake box in her old suite of rooms. Lord Brimley hadn’t changed a thing in the marchioness’s bedchamber since her death, and Emily was certain she would have no trouble attaining her objective and getting out of the house without detection. The viscount had told her yesterday morning that he would be out for the evening, attending a soiree at the home of Lord and Lady Beaumont, and with the marquis confined to his bed, there should be only the smallest chance she would run into anyone except perhaps a servant.
No, she concluded. The only thing she should have trouble dealing with was her conscience.
It stabbed at her now, and she couldn’t suppress a wince. She tried not to think about how Lord Brimley would react if he discovered his beloved wife’s favorite piece of jewelry was gone. Jack seemed to have an unerring knack for targeting the precise thing each of his marks prized the most. Exactly how was a mystery, but Emily felt sure his choices were deliberate. Anything to make it harder on her and her sense of integrity.
All the better to punish her.
Emily came to a halt next to the terrace doors that led into the library. Though she would be passing right by the location of the safe, she had no intention of breaking into it or taking anything else. Jack had specified nothing but the brooch, and she wasn’t doing a thing more than he had instructed.
She refused to cause Adam and his father any more pain than necessary. She already felt guilty over the way she had treated the viscount lately, and she suspected there would be enough bad feelings on his part once she turned down his proposal.
If he ever got around to making it.
Withdrawing her pick from the pocket of her breeches, Emily had the lock on the doors sprung in only a matter of seconds. She eased them open, then turned to Miles.
“I want you to stay here,” she instructed him in a hushed voice. “The fewer people traipsing through the house, the better. Keep an eye out and give me a signal if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”
The stable hand’s face creased with concern. “Are you certain? What if you need my ’elp?”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll do me more good standing watch.” She forced a reassuring smile. “But I must warn you, I won’t be kissing you to convince you of the fact.”
Her attempt at levity had Miles relaxing slightly and giving a wry chuckle, but he still appeared doubtful.
She touched his shoulder. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”
Wiping her sweaty palms on the seat of her breeches, she stepped inside and closed the doors behind her.
The only illumination came from a wall sconce out in the corridor as it spilled its fragile light through the partially open door of the library. Taking a deep breath, Emily made her stealthy way past the shelves of books and peeked out through the crack.
Nothing stirred beyond the threshold.
Pushing the portal the rest of the way open, she started along the dim hallway toward the front of the house. The back stairs would be much too close to the servants’ quarters, and if she remembered correctly from previous visits, Lady Brimley’s room had been the last door at the end of the corridor at the top of the main staircase. Of course, Lord Brimley’s current bedchamber was right next door, connected by a small combination sitting and dressing room, so she would have to be especially quiet.
She covered the distance on quick, silent feet, making no sound on the thick runner as she climbed the winding staircase and traversed the long, second-floor hallway.
You have to be careful, Emily, she told herself, approaching the marchioness’s room with caution. You mustn’t forget who will be investigating this come the morning.
Peter.
At the thought of the man who had caused her such confusion and dismay since his return, she felt her heart skip a beat.
What was she to do about him?
After their encounter in the stable yesterday, she was finding it more difficult than ever to keep up her previous façade of haughtiness and reserve. She was so tired of being on her guard, having to watch every word she said. How she wished they could talk as they had about Artemis, feel free to confide in each other about everything, the way they used to. She didn’t want to fight with him anymore.
However, she wasn’t certain what she did want from him.
She had spent the time on the journey to Lord Caulfield’s yesterday afternoon contemplating this puzzle. As the baron resided several miles away in the town of Winterset, she and Peter had opted to travel by the Ellington coach rather than take their horses. The silence within had been oppressive and strained. Though she had tried a few times to start a casual conversation, he had seemed reluctant to talk, almost lost in his own thoughts, and she had finally given up in defeat.
And as it had turned out, her attendance hadn’t been necessary. The baron had been as pompous and blustery as always, and far from cooperative. Emily’s presence had done little to make the man more amenable.
“I fail to see why I need to answer questions that I’ve already been asked by the constable,” he had barked impatiently. “I wasn’t even home that evening, so I saw nothing and know nothing beyond the fact that the bounder broke into my study and my safe with hardly any trouble at all. Took everything that was in there, including my favorite pair of diamond cuff links.” His chilly blue eyes had raked Peter with blatant contempt. “And if the magistrate has had no luck catching the thief, I doubt you will be able to manage it.”
The baron had then turned to Emily. “I hate to say it, my dear, but I tend to agree with the local authorities. Most likely the culprit is one of those former thieves your family is housing at Willow Park.” He’d shaken his head. “It is out of respect for your father that I’ve continued to support this home of yours, but should it turn out that one of the current residents is the guilty party…well, I shall have to withdraw my involvement. You understand, of course?”
Emily had made placating noises, but Peter had looked ready to explode. Fearing a confrontation, she’d made their excuses and they had departed as soon as possible.
Their visit had accomplished nothing, and she had spent the time since staying out of Peter’s way, afraid her guilt over what she had planned to do tonight would show on her face. Not that he had noticed. He’d been closeted in the study with Tristan from the moment she’d arisen this morning, more than likely filling her brother in on how the case was progressing.
Or perhaps he was avoiding her, as well.
To her surprise, that possibility hurt.
She shook off the unwanted emotion and came back to the present. Now was not the time to get caught up in pondering her problems with Peter. She had to stay focused on the task at hand. It was much too dangerous to let her mind wander.
Putting her hand on the knob of Lady Brimley’s former room, she pushed the door open and slipped inside.
The interior of the chamber was dark and musty-smelling, and Emily had to pause a moment to get her bearings. Tiptoeing over to the large casement window, she drew back the heavy draperies and allowed the moonlight to flood into the room. Then, turning, she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her surroundings.
Now, if I were a brooch, she mused, where would I be?
A huge, ornately decorated bed took up much of the far wall, the mattress so high that a stool had been placed at the foot to aid the former occupant in climbing up onto it. A maple wood vanity sat opposite, close to the connecting door that led into the combination sitting and dressing room.
Hmmm. Perhaps…
Emily crossed to the piece of furniture and searched through the objects littering the top. She came across several dust-covered perfume bottles, a silver-backed brush, and an empty jewelry box, but no brooch.
She brushed her hands off with a grimace. Adam had been right about the marquis leaving things in here untouched. The chamber looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned since Lady Brimley had passed on ten years ago.
Where on earth could the brooch be?
At that moment, she noticed a tall maple armoire in the corner next to the window and she hurried over to it, swinging the doors open with a creak that made her flinch. After waiting a moment to make sure she hadn’t roused anyone, she began pushing aside the moth-eaten clothing that hung inside, pulling open drawers and searching the shelves with meticulous care.
It was as she shoved aside a shabby-looking portmanteau on the very top shelf that she discovered hidden behind it a small, lace-trimmed box.
The marchioness’s keepsake box?
Emily plucked it from the shelf, her fingers trembling as she pried off the lid. Nestled inside were several odds and ends. A packet of yellowed letters tied with a red ribbon, a book of pressed flowers, a painted miniature of what was obviously Lord Brimley as a much younger man…
And a diamond-studded brooch.
Her pulse jumped and she lifted it from the box. As she turned it over in her palm, her gaze fell upon the writing that had been engraved on the back, just beneath the clasp.
To my darling wife, Lavinia. Mere words cannot express what I feel for you. Your loving husband, George.
Tears blurred Emily’s vision and she clutched the brooch against her bosom. How Lord Brimley must have loved his wife.
I’ll make sure you get this back, my lord, she vowed silently, glancing toward the connecting chamber. If luck was with her, the marquis might never even notice it had been taken.
Tucking the brooch into the pocket of her breeches, she placed the box back on the armoire shelf and closed the doors. Once again, they gave a loud squeak, but this time she barely noticed. She was already out of the room.
She started down the hallway toward the stairs, moving as soundlessly as before. But halfway there, she became aware of a faint noise from somewhere behind her. She turned just in time to see one of the doors along the way come flying open.
A frail, bent figure dressed in a nightshirt and tasseled cap limped out into the corridor.
It was Lord Brimley!
His cane pounding the floor, the elderly marquis called out in a tremulous voice. “Halt! Halt, I say, you miscreant! You’ll not rob this house!”
Emily didn’t pause, but whirled and began to run, her heart pounding with every step. She had to get out of here!
She could hear Lord Brimley’s cane as he pursued her, continuing to yell as loudly as he could. “Help! Help! Stop, thief! Stop or I—”
His words choked to an abrupt, gurgling halt, and a sudden jarring thud followed by a gasp had her looking back over her shoulder just as she reached the top of the stairs.
The marquis lay in a heap several feet away, unmoving.
Emily let out a cry of distress, then covered her mouth with her hand. But it was too late to worry about giving herself away. Lord Brimley’s shouts had awakened the servants, who were already bustling about below. The sound of frightened voices and running feet drifted up the stairs.
She couldn’t be discovered. Not now. But she couldn’t leave without knowing if the marquis was going to be all right.
Hurrying back to the elderly gentleman’s side, she knelt next to him and felt for the pulse in his neck. It was there, weak but steady. A groan escaped his lips, but his eyes didn’t open.
“I’m so sorry, my lord,” she whispered, her heart squeezing at his helplessness. This was all her fault. Should anything happen to him…“I’m so sorry.”
At that moment, a commotion from down in the foyer had her glancing up in alarm. She couldn’t afford to linger. The staff would be arriving to investigate the fuss at any moment.
“I must go, but your servants are on their way to lend their aid, my lord,” she told the marquis, patting his shoulder. “Just hold on. Please hold on.”
Lunging to her feet, she scurried back down the hallway toward the marchioness’s room. Obviously, her previous path through the house had been eliminated as an escape route, and she would have to come up with another way out.
She flung open Lady Brimley’s door and ducked inside, closing it behind her just in time. Loud footsteps sounded on the front stairs and a chorus of startled cries echoed down the corridor.
“My lordship!”
“Someone send for the physician! Quickly!”
“What was he on about? Did I hear him yell something about a thief?”
Oh, dear heavens, they would be looking for her! There could be no delay. She had to get out at once.
Without hesitation, she raced to the window and pushed open the casement, then leaned far out over the sill, straining to see through the darkness to the ground below.
There. Just beneath the window was a large patch of bushes and flowering shrubs. It wouldn’t be a comfortable landing, but it should be enough to cushion her fall, and keep her from breaking an arm or a leg.
Or her neck.
Closing her eyes, she slung a leg over the window ledge, whispered a quick prayer, and jumped.