Twelve

IT WAS BARELY eight a.m. when Ian shook Daniel rudely awake.

“Get up, man. He’s done it.”

“Who’s done what?” Daniel pushed himself up against the down pillow and stared sleepily at his associate. Ian was still dressed in his evening clothes, or partially dressed. His shirt was half buttoned. His tie was hanging around his neck and he was holding his frockcoat by its collar. “Did somebody rob you?”

“Not me, Daniel; Lady Delecort. The jewel thief broke into her room last night while she was asleep and took the diamond necklace she wore at dinner.”

“Blast! I was afraid of something like this. Do you know any details?”

“No. I only just heard about it when I was—was coming down the corridor—earlier. The hotel detective is in the room next door, making inquiries. You’d better dress. I expect him here next.”

Daniel came to his feet and reached for a pair of trousers. He plunged his feet into the pants and threaded his arms into the dressing gown that Ian was holding for him. His mind was furiously cataloging what he’d been told. Sometime after Lady Delecort had retired a thief had entered her room and taken her diamonds.

Perhaps the theft had occurred while he was with Portia. With the hotel under surveillance by his men the theft had still occurred. Who was the elusive thief? Portia! Could he have been wrong about Portia? Why had she been running away from the hotel, wearing a dress? Perhaps he’d intercepted her escape. No! He refused to believe that. She certainly hadn’t had the necklace on her. After the intimacy of their embrace he could reasonably swear to that. But how about Horatio? Portia could have been serving as some kind of look-out. Maybe she’d been a decoy, luring him away from the hotel intentionally.

Daniel’s heart sank. How could he have let the very thing happen that he’d been sent there to prevent. Damn! Blast!

There was a knock. “Hotel Security, please open up.” Ian dropped his hands resolutely and opened the door. “Yes?”

“Are you Mr. Daniel Logan?” The florid faced man standing in the doorway flexed his arm, calling attention to the awkward bend of the elbow that signaled a break that had not healed properly. “We’ve had a little problem here in the hotel and I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Certainly.” Daniel stepped forward. “I’m Daniel Logan. This is my associate, Ian Gaunt. And you are?”

“Hill Jackson, hotel detective. Mr., Blake, the proprietor, has authorized me to make inquiries.” The man didn’t offer to shake hands and neither did Daniel. There was an air of animosity about him that seemed uncalled for.

“What seems to be the trouble, Jackson?” Daniel stretched and rubbed his sleep-filled eyes as the detective walked in and looked disdainfully around.

“The Countess of Hidemarch was robbed last night.”

“Sorry to hear that. And how may we be of assistance to you? God, I could use some coffee.”

Ian closed the hotel room door. “I’ve already called down for coffee, Daniel.”

“I wondered if you happened to see anything—unusual?” For a moment Daniel thought of Portia, then cleared his mind. It wouldn’t be smart at this point to allow the detective any hint of his involvement. “No, not that I’m aware of. What time did the robbery take place?”

“Sometime after midnight when the lady retired. What time did you turn in, Mr. Logan?”

“About twelve-thirty, I imagine.”

Hill Jackson walked slowly around the sitting room, peered into Daniel’s room and moved slowly around past the terrace to the door that led to Ian’s room. “May I?” He put out his hand to the knob and waited for Ian’s nod of consent.

“Certainly,” Daniel said, impatient for the man to conclude his interview so that he and Ian could get to work.

“Well, well. Either Mr. Gaunt is a very tidy guest, or he hasn’t been to bed.” The detective turned back to Ian, studying the odd state of his dress more carefully.

Daniel, too, noticed now that Ian appeared to have thrown on his clothes hurriedly, the same clothing he was wearing last evening, except for the cummerbund which was missing.

“Neither,” Ian replied stiffly. “I was away last evening. But I assure you that my activities had nothing to do with any robbery.”

“That was you I saw coming down the corridor while I was entering the room next door, wasn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Ian admitted, drawing himself up even more stiffly.

“Care to tell me where you spent the evening?”

“I... I’d rather not, Detective Jackson. It would be most indiscreet.”

Suddenly Daniel understood. Ian had been with the lovely Victoria. It was Daniel’s turn to say, “Dog bite me, Ian. You were with a woman!”

Ian’s look of misery was answer enough.

“Now, look here, Detective Jackson—may I call you, Hill?” At the law officer’s reluctant nod, Daniel put his arm around his shoulder and walked him toward the terrace.

“You see, Hill, it’s like this. There is a young lady here in the hotel who has decided that Ian would make a fine husband. You know how these women work in a place like this. Ian hasn’t had much experience with women. I’m afraid that he’s allowed himself to fall into her trap.”

“Sure, I’ve seen ’em. But we’ve had a robbery and I have to investigate. It’s my job, a job that I mean to keep.”

“Of course. But you understand that Ian is of the old school. He’ll protect this young lady with his last breath, so I’m going to have to figure out a way to prove his story without compromising her reputation. Or, it’s off to the church with Ian.”

“Of course this introduces another possibility,” the law officer said, sliding Daniel’s arm from his shoulder. “If Mr. Gaunt wasn’t here, I have no proof that you were either, do I?”

Daniel groaned. “No, I suppose not. But the only thing that does is put both of us in the same shoes as half the guests in the hotel, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Hill Jackson nodded, looking from Daniel to Ian and back again. “But I intend to get to the bottom of this, so don’t either of you decide to leave right away.”

“Don’t worry, Detective. I haven’t finished my business yet. We’ll be here.”

Once the door closed, Ian dropped into the ornate velvet chair and covered his face.

“I don’t know what to say, Daniel. I’m not sure how it happened. She wanted to go for a late night coffee. It seemed to be an exciting adventure to her and she has such a way about her.”

“Where did you go for coffee, into Atlanta?” Daniel shook his head in concern. “Ah, Ian, didn’t you know what she was up to? No, of course you didn’t. When a man falls in love he goes deaf, dumb and blind.”

“Love? That’s foolish, Daniel, I mean... I—we were simply...”

“What, Ian? What did you expect when she set up a midnight meeting?”

“I guess I didn’t think at all, Daniel.”

“What happened?”

“After you left for your walk I went back down the hall toward her room. We were to meet at the palm tree by the alcove. She—she’d talked her maid into sleeping in her bed. Her maid’s room opens into the alcove. Victoria was waiting. We... she wasn’t dressed for going anywhere.”

“A spider, Ian. She spun a web and you walked right into it. Was she a virgin?”

“Really, Daniel,” Ian protested, red-faced at the implication. “Of course she... I mean certainly...” His voice trailed off miserably. “Yes, she was.”

“And now, you’re engaged? She must have been desperate to pull such a stunt.”

“Why yes, we are engaged. I plan to marry her. I truly want to, Dan. Any gentleman would be honored. Why does that bother you?”

“Ian, I know what you’re about to do. What I want to know is what you want to do.”

Ian rose and walked slowly toward the terrace. After a long time he spoke. “I know what you think, Daniel, but it isn’t true. Victoria confessed everything. The Trevillions aren’t really quality folks, Daniel. Mrs. Trevillion doesn’t show herself much because she’s very uneducated. She’s afraid that she’ll make a gaffe and ruin her daughter’s chances.”

“Smart thinking. It must run in the family.”

“Victoria has been very honest with me. They aren’t old money from New Orleans as they’ve pretended. They are from Memphis where her mother’s family was in trade. Mrs. Trevillion inherited several businesses along the river front. Mr. Trevillion has made a fortune raising pigs. An honorable background, but one that might be considered less than genteel.

“Victoria is very much afraid that even though she’s beautiful, wealthy and has been educated in the finest schools, none of that will matter if people examine her background closely. One way or another, she wants to be somebody. I admire her spunk, even if our being together was originally part of a plan rather than from love. I told her that I was no catch.”

“Now, just a minute, Ian. The last time I looked there were at least a dozen eligible bachelors here. Victoria may be a scheming wench, but she has good taste. She chose you out of all the prospects. That makes her pretty smart in my book.”

“Well, it didn’t seem to bother her that I got my start as a bartender. She seems to think that makes us just about perfect for each other, Dan. She...”Ian said shyly, “says that she loves me.”

“And it’s obvious that you’re in love with her, Ian. I’m happy for you.” Daniel frowned. “You didn’t tell her about our assignment here, did you?”

“Of course not, Daniel. I feel bad enough about that as it is; if I’d been more responsible, this might not have happened. What do you want me to do now?”

“Maybe both of us lost sight of our objective for a moment, Ian. Right now, I’m going to pay a little call on Captain Horatio Macintosh. It seems that he’s managed to slip out of the dormitory and into the hotel for two nights in a row. Just where he’s been might prove very interesting.”

“You don’t really suspect Captain Macintosh, do you?”

“I don’t want to, Ian, but I have to consider the possibility that he’s the thief. I have to suspect the whole troupe, except perhaps Fiona. And for all I know she may be the most skilled actress in the group. It all seems too convenient. Maybe they all belong to the same gang. The Countess and the Captain. Maybe they travel the resort circuit together, the Countess on the inside and the Captain on the outside. Maybe the theft was just a blind.”

“But the troupe? That seems to be rather a large contingent for a gang to carry around from place to place, don’t you think?” Ian said quietly, watching Daniel’s face as he paced about the room.

Of course, Ian was right. Daniel stopped his pacing. But if the real thief was someone else, he was smart enough to make use of the end result.

Mentally Daniel ran down his list of characters, as it were. The Captain and the Countess playing patty-cake. Edward and Fiona falling in love at first sight. The lovely Victoria setting a trap for Ian, effectively occupying his concentration, and Portia—Portia had turned his own mind into pure mush. While the hotel is turned into a hotbed of passion, the thief settles in and makes off with a necklace right under all their noses.

Even Shakespeare couldn’t write a script to compare.

The breakfast cart arrived. Quickly Daniel shaved and dressed, drinking his coffee as he completed his toilette. His mind raced with the possibilities. The hotel would make good the Countess’s loss because the Sweetwater belonged to the Jewelry Alliance by whom the Pinkertons were employed. It had been his job to prevent any further jewel thefts while he identified and arrested the thieves. For now he was no further along than he’d been when he arrived.

Toilette complete, Daniel lifted his hat from the coat rack and began sliding his fingers into gray suede morning gloves. First, he’d talk with Ian, then with Horatio.

“Ian, about last night. You’re thirty years old. If the girl is what you want, marry her. If not, I’ll help you get out of the situation. For now, go to bed. I need a fresh mind from you this evening.”

The closing of Ian’s door was the only answer Daniel got as he left the room and started down the stairs. Several people called out to him as he made his way through the lobby, each eager to discuss the excitement.

This time, Daniel avoided the rehearsal hall and made his way straight to Captain Macintosh’s dormitory room. After a knock, he was told to enter. Inside, the Captain, wearing a red velvet dressing gown, was having a full breakfast at a table by the window.

“Oh, Logan. Won’t you join me?”

“Captain, how did you get room service in a place where they think that more than tea and dry toast is a sinful waste?” Daniel asked in amazement.

“Oh, it was just a matter of making friends with the cook. Always pays to make a fuss over the staff.”

“Of course, the cook.” Daniel removed his hat and gloves and sat down at the table with the bewhiskered actor. “I’m afraid that we have a slight problem, Horatio.”

“Oh, Portia? Fiona? Are they in trouble?”

“Neither Portia, nor Fiona, Captain.” Daniel took a deep breath. He’d considered several approaches and rejected them all. There was only one way to find out what he wanted to know: ask. The direct approach might prevent his proving his case, but at least he’d scare the Captain off and prevent Portia and Fiona being exposed as accomplices.

“Then what?” Horatio put down his cup and waited.

If the old crook was guilty, he was doing a good job of pretending innocence.

“There was a robbery at the hotel last night, Captain.”

“Oh? Who was robbed?”

“Countess Delecort. The diamond necklace she was wearing at dinner was stolen, while she slept. “

Captain Macintosh’s fingers tightened on his cup. “Evie was robbed? When? Is she all right?”

“Sometime after midnight. And yes, she’s fine. What time did you leave her room, Captain?”

“So, you know.”

“I know that you two are setting a poor example for Fiona and Edward.”

“I see.” Horatio made no attempt to conceal the truth. “I left her suite between twelve and twelve-thirty. She had removed her jewelry earlier. The last time I saw the necklace, it was on her dressing table. Am I a suspect?”

“Only by me, Horatio,” Daniel admitted. “Did you steal it?”

“No, but I could have. And I suppose you know that or you wouldn’t be here. Did she tell you that I did?”

“I haven’t spoken to Lady Delecort. I’m afraid that the hotel detective has decided that my associate, Mr. Gaunt, and I are more likely candidates.”

This time Horatio’s surprise was genuine. “You, Logan? But didn’t you tell them that you were with Portia?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m afraid I saw you, on my way back to the dormitory. You were—sitting—in the swing.”

“Oh.” Sitting in the swing? They had been kissing. He’d been... God only knew what he’d been doing when Horatio saw them. “I don’t know what to say, Captain. I didn’t intend that to happen.”

“Just as I didn’t intend to meet Evie,” Horatio said simply. “Of course I’m a lot older than you. And Portia is my daughter. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to have to issue an ultimatum until Portia decides how she feels.”

It was Daniel’s turn to say, “I see.”

“Under the circumstances I know that you hold our fate in your hands. I also know that Portia would do whatever she thought was necessary to save the troupe.”

“What you saw, Captain, was entirely my fault. Portia shouldn’t be held responsible.”

“I hope that you know, Logan, Portia has never been with a man before, in any way. You’re probably the first to ever hold her hand. I am still her father and even if it costs me the troupe, I won’t allow her to be hurt.”

“Hurting Portia is the last thing I’d ever do, Horatio. I care about her, more than I want to.”

“And what do you intend to do about it?”

“The same as you, I guess; wait for Portia to decide what she wants from me.”

“That’s fair enough, Logan,” Horatio agreed. “Portia has held this family together all her life. We care about her too. I think we’ll all wait for her to decide what she wants.”

There was a quick knock on the door as it opened. “Papa, I’m on my way to the lion’s den to make my report.”

Portia was adjusting her cap to cover her curls as she entered the room. She lifted her head and caught sight of Daniel sitting across from her father. Did he see? No, she’d already shoved the last strand beneath it before she knocked.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you here, Daniel. Is something wrong?”

“Lady Delecort was robbed last night, Phillip,” Daniel said quickly.

Portia’s gaze swung to her father in a panic. “Papa?”

“I’ll give you the same answer I gave Daniel. No. I did not take Evie’s necklace.”

“Evie? Oh, Papa, I asked you not to go over there. I knew that would only bring trouble. That woman isn’t interested in you. She’s just slumming. Now look what’s happened. Give me the necklace.” Portia held out her hand.

Horatio stood, shoved his chair away from the table, and answered Portia as only Hamlet could have done. “My daughter, I know that you have had cause to suspect me in the past. But of this dastardly deed, I am not guilty. I would thank you to take your mistrust elsewhere. Now I have to ready myself to take the waters. My condition, you know.” Portia burst out laughing and began to applaud. “Very good, Papa. Very good indeed. Now, swear to me on the memory of my mother that you didn’t lift the jewelry.” With a pained expression that convinced Daniel, if it didn’t convince Portia, Horatio took Portia’s hand, swore his innocence, and led her to the door.

“Now, take Daniel away and let him tell you who the hotel detective really suspects.”

Outside Horatio’s door, Daniel and Portia faced each other uneasily.

“What did he mean, Daniel. Who do they suspect if not my father?”

Daniel started down the steps. “I’m afraid that they suspect either Ian or me.”

Portia gasped. “But you couldn’t have...” She broke off. She had been about to say because you were with me. But Daniel wasn’t with Portia, he was with Fiona. Except that Fiona had been with Edward while his mother was being robbed. Oh, the situation was becoming much too complicated.

“No, I couldn’t have. I was with—a fiery little vixen who stirred my blood and set me to pacing my bedchamber for half the night. But you’d know about that, wouldn’t you Phillip? You’d know about a man wanting a woman?” Stirred his blood? Portia turned and stumbled down the stairs into the sunlight.

“Uh, no, I don’t know much about women. I’d think that they all might affect a man that way, wouldn’t they?”

“Well, there are some special women who affect a man more than others. I’m afraid that this particular one is likely to get herself into big trouble if she doesn’t find a good man to take her to bed—soon.”

This time Portia couldn’t conceal her distress.

Fiona. Daniel was standing there telling her that Fiona needed to be bedded. But it wasn’t Fiona he had kissed; it was she. Would he put his threat into action? What on Earth would Fiona do if he kissed her as he’d kissed Portia in the moonlight?

Did Fiona respond to Edward’s kisses the way she did to Daniel’s? She wished she had someone to talk to about what was happening to her. How did a woman control herself, keep a man from getting around her and forcing her into a compromising situation? Did they even try? For all she knew women felt and reacted the same way as a man; they just did it privately. Did Fiona allow Edward to touch her? Did she feel as if she were bursting into a thousand pieces when he did? Those thoughts were shattering every ounce of her control and she knew that she was lost.

Daniel didn’t seem to notice her confusion. He was standing there, his hat in his hand, bouncing it against his knee. She searched his face, but it was so difficult to decipher. Dare she probe his statement of his feelings further? Could she make a logical decision if she had the facts?

Portia was shaken. Her chest seemed constricted and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her skin was burning in the heat of the sun’s rays. She needed to move into the shade, away from Daniel’s innocent man-to-man remarks. But she needed the truth more.

Boldly she spoke, throwing caution to the winds. “Did she, the woman, express her feelings for you?”

“Not in words, not yet, Phillip, but sooner or later—she will.”

“Could she be mistaken? Could she believe that you care for her, when you don’t?”

“She could. She doesn’t have any notion what feelings she arouses in a man. She might not know that her actions speak louder than her words.”

Portia caught back her words of denial. He believed that he was describing Fiona. He couldn’t know that it was Portia who was trembling even now from the remembering. Drawing in a deep calming breath, Portia forced herself to consider how a proper brother might be expected to respond in such a situation.

Making her tone as calm and masculine as she could make it, she said, “I realize that your engagement to my sister is only a sham, Logan, but until the arrangement is terminated, I expect you to treat Fiona as the lady she is. Do I make myself clear?”

Fiona he had no problem with. It was the woman, stiff-necked and proud before him that Daniel was having difficulty withstanding. Daniel had known passion, but outside of caring for Belle, he’d never known the kind of obsession that Portia created. He’d tried to analyze this strange power she held over him.

But Daniel was growing weary of this subterfuge. He was ready to put Phillip away and bring Portia out into the light so that he could tell her how he felt. Though he wasn’t yet sure that it was love, it was something. But this was Phillip, not Portia, who was waiting for an answer. And if he didn’t get away, he was likely to reveal that he knew the truth.

“Certainly, Phillip. I shall endeavor to regard Fiona as a lady in every instance. You need not fear for her safety in my hands. Now, I will have to ask you to excuse me this morning. I have some business in Atlanta that I must tend to. Please carry on with your duties as usual.”

Daniel placed his hat on his head, gave it a jaunty tap and turned back to the hotel. Portia watched him walk away, too emotionally exhausted to reply.

“Oh,” Daniel stopped and turned back. “Tell Fiona that I will be away this evening so she won’t have to join me for dinner. But I’ll expect her to meet me after your performance tomorrow evening.”

“Why?”

“To celebrate her triumph as the fair Juliet. Ian tells me that a boat ride on the lake is a lovely way to spend an evening.”

“But...

“I’ll wait at the dormitory door.”

Daniel didn’t dare look back again or he would have covered the distance between them and taken Portia in his arms no matter who she was pretending to be. Her face had gone white with confusion. Both anger and fear coursed through his veins. God, she was so young, so vulnerable.

At least he had to be away for the next two days. For now, he had to distance himself from Portia before he gave in to his urges to make love to her. He was no better than Victoria. She wanted a man and she chose one. Without a conscious commitment, he was guilty of the same thing.

Now that he had a new hotel guest list, he had to go back to Atlanta and telegraph the home office for more background information. So far he hadn’t seen anything or anybody suspicious. Stealing one necklace seemed out of character for the thief; not the usual modus operandi. Daniel had about decided that this theft was a red herring.

Daniel picked up his pace.

Portia watched him walk away. By now he was too far away for her to refuse to obey his instructions. She knew that any argument was hopeless anyway. Apparently the authorities didn’t know about her father’s light-fingered history yet. Daniel could say that he and Mr. Gaunt were suspects, but she knew that her father would make a far better choice. And she couldn’t take a chance that Daniel might tell them about Horatio and “Evie.”

Portia walked down to the lake, deep in her thoughts.

She didn’t believe that Daniel was a thief. He made her furious, but he was kind and caring. Men in general had never impressed her as more than trouble that needed controlling or rescuing. But Daniel seemed to know who he was and where he was going. He was always totally in control and she doubted if he ever needed anybody. There was an unspoken energy about the man that quite simply made her feel alive.

But wait: what about the man in the shadows, the man Daniel had been plotting with. She’d heard him say that they’d been working too long to let something happen now. Was all this nonsense about looking for a wife just some carefully plotted sham to cover his real purpose in being at the Springs?

Portia was confused. The lake was calm in the morning sunlight. She stood there for a long time, her stomach churning as she considered what Daniel had said. She was distressed about her father and the troupe, but the truth of the matter was that it was Daniel, the man, who disturbed her.

It was too bad that Daniel wasn’t the thief. Then he’d be arrested and she’d be rid of him. But, wait. She was beginning to get an idea. If Horatio wasn’t the thief, then someone else was. Maybe the authorities were right. Forcing herself to put aside the strong feelings she had about the man, she considered the possibility that Daniel really was the thief. She had seen him talking to a stranger in the shadows. She knew how persuasive he could be.

Suddenly Portia felt heady with the idea. If she could prove that Daniel had the necklace, she’d be able to force him to return the troupe in exchange for her silence. The authorities didn’t really have to be told. He’d return the necklace but that wouldn’t matter. She’d have rescued the troupe and taken control again.

Portia took a deep breath and felt the beginning of a confident smile. Everything made more sense now. Being a thief would explain his presence at the resort. He was simply using the troupe and a fiancée as a diversion. She’d almost allowed Daniel to distract her totally. But if he thought that he’d use her or her family for any further distraction, he was sadly mistaken.

An instinct told her that Daniel hadn’t been untouched by their kisses. If he could use her, she could use him. As long as he felt this desire for Fiona, he would protect the troupe. And they could still use his help with finances. Except that now, Fiona couldn’t be allowed to go out with him any more. It had to be Portia.

Fiona couldn’t be exposed to Daniel’s kisses. They were too powerful, too delicious. But what was more important was the fact that she had to stay close enough to Daniel Logan to prove his guilt. No matter how much she—no matter how difficult it would be, Portia had to protect the people she loved.

At least she wouldn’t have to see him for almost two full days. She’d be able to look after her duties as she normally did, without interference. No more midnight walks across the hotel grounds. No more wicked kisses in the moonlight. In the meantime, she’d have a talk with Fiona. There was one thing she had to understand before she formulated her final plan. She needed to know if being in love made you crazy. She needed to know—quick.