A Dash of Scandal

Six

“Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief” and report how remarkable it is to see Lord Dunraven, Lord Chatwin, and Lord Dugdale dance with so many young ladies in one evening. And all three of the gentlemen danced with Miss Bardwell last night. Could it be that after all these years we are going to see the Terrible Threesome fighting over the same young lady?—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
Millicent sat alone in the dining room of her aunt’s town house finishing a meal of cheese, cooked figs, and fresh-baked bread. Even at half past two in the afternoon it was still difficult for her to clear the sleepiness from her eyes.

Thankfully, Aunt Beatrice’s cook sent up hot tea to Millicent’s bedroom each afternoon to help her wake up. She had not had a proper night’s sleep since she’d arrived in London several days ago.

Millicent didn’t know how her aunt had kept such extended hours for all these years. The pace was grueling. After attending two and three parties each evening until the early morning hours, Millicent would go straight to her Aunt’s bedroom when she returned home and the two of them would discuss the night’s gossip.

Millicent would take notes about what Aunt Beatrice wanted her to write in the column, then, retiring to her room, she would begin the tedious task of making a legible copy for Phillips to deliver to The Daily Reader.

She hadn’t gone to bed until after daybreak since the first day she arrived in London.

While she sipped tea out of a dainty china cup, Millicent’s gaze drifted to the garden outside the window to where the primroses, crocuses, and tree shrubs bloomed in pinks, yellows, and white. Emery was out cutting flowers for Aunt Beatrice’s room, and Hamlet sniffed the ground around Emery’s feet.

Millicent didn’t know why the dog had taken an instant dislike to her. She was usually very good with animals. She could only attribute it to the fact that Hamlet didn’t seem to like anyone but his mistress and Emery. Aunt Beatrice had suggested it was because he was getting old and grumpy, which was more than likely the case.

As Millicent watched Emery and Hamlet, her thoughts faded back to what Earl Dunraven had said last night just before he returned her to Viscountess Heathecoute. A sudden expectancy filled her.

Millicent was shocked, and her aunt would be mortified if she knew the earl had indicated he was going to pursue her. She must stop his interest in her, but for some reason she was reluctant to do that. Even though he was a High Society rake, she found her attraction to him was too powerful to ignore. She had tried. Her only hope was that he would soon tire of her and go on to pursue some other young lady.

A smile lifted the corners of her lips just thinking about how gently yet commandingly he’d touched her while they danced. She loved the feel of the strength in him when he caressed her hand. Oh, and he was so handsome and debonair. He was intriguing and as fascinating a gentleman as she had ever met.

But, and it was a huge but, she had to remember that was exactly how he had earned his reputation for being one of the Terrible Threesome. He knew how to enchant young ladies and make them desire to see him again. She had to remember he liked the chase and to pay suit to young ladies only to go no further than a few dances and paying a call or two. Her smile faded.

She was not one he could trifle with for two very good reasons. Aunt Beatrice had brought her to London to safeguard her position at The Daily Reader, and it was a man comparable to Lord Dunraven who had made her mother an outcast in all of London. If the dashing earl approached Millicent again, she would have no choice but to rebuff him—no matter that she wasn’t inclined to do so. She would not end up like her mother.

Millicent looked out at the lush garden again. It was too beautiful a day to stay inside. Maybe a leisurely stroll among the flowers and shrubs would free her mind of Lord Dunraven. She should join Emery and Hamlet outside in the fresh air and spend a little time thinking up new quotes from Shakespeare to use in the column.

She could always resort to looking through her aunt’s books on Shakespeare’s writings, and reading his works was never a chore, but she rather liked the idea that she could remember so many of her favorite lines without lifting a book or turning a page.

She finished off her tea, then headed toward the rear door. Millicent stepped out of her aunt’s house and into the lovely formal garden. She’d been told that her aunt’s flower garden was one of the largest and most beautiful in Mayfair, and looking at the splendor before her she could believe it. The enclosure was alive with color.

Tall, thick yews formed a hedge that was at least eight feet high and completely surrounded the garden on three sides. Separate beds of flowers had been arranged so that there would be some flower or shrub blooming from early spring until late in the autumn. At the end of the garden stood a larger-than-life-size statue of Diana, the Huntress. The goddess held a cluster of arrows in one hand and her trusted dog stood by her side. It was easy to figure out why her aunt picked that piece of statuary, given her love for her own pet.

Emery and Hamlet met her at the bottom step on their way back inside.

“Good afternoon, miss.” Emery greeted her with a pleasant smile.

“And the same to you, Emery,” Millicent said, peering down into the maid’s basket. “You picked beautiful flowers for Aunt Beatrice.”

The maid’s eyes brightened at the praise. “You think she’ll like them?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Emery smiled and said, “Thank you, miss,” then headed up the steps to the back door.

Millicent turned to the spaniel who was still looking at her with curious eyes. “What about you, Hamlet? Would you like to stay out here in the garden with me for a while?”

The little dog barked once. Millicent thought that meant he would stay outside with her, but as soon as Emery opened the door, he scampered up the steps and rushed inside just before the maid shut the door.

So much for trying to make friends with him, Millicent thought as she made her way along the stone path that led to the back of the garden. It was a beautiful day bright with sunshine, with a clear blue sky and a gentle breeze to rustle the leaves. The foliage was a lush shade of green from the early spring rains and their wet winter.

Millicent’s modest afternoon dress swished across the tops of her satin slippers as she bent down to smell a pretty pink flower.

“Millicent.”

Rising up, Millicent thought she must be going daft. She could have sworn she’d heard Lord Dunraven call her name. She looked around the grounds from corner to corner and saw nothing. She shook her head and smiled to herself. How unlike her to have such fanciful notions about a gentleman. Probably because she couldn’t get the dashing scoundrel off her mind.

She continued, her lazy stroll.

“Millicent.”

This time she stopped with a jerk and looked around again. She wasn’t hearing things. It was Lord Dunraven calling her name.

“Over here by the statue.”

She slowly walked toward the statue and, when she moved to an angle at the far right, she saw Lord Dunraven, crouched down low and hidden behind the large statue. He was motioning for her to join him.

He was unbelievable.

She looked at the back door where Emery and Hamlet had just entered. There was no sign of them, Phillips, or any of her aunt’s servants. It was inconceivable that he’d made it into the garden without anyone seeing him.

Millicent knew she should just ignore him and rush back into the house, but she couldn’t. Curiosity got the better of her and she started toward him. She took her time walking over to where he was hidden in the back center of the garden where the statue stood. When she was close enough to talk to Lord Dunraven, she stopped and pretended to look at a cluster of daisies but had her gaze on him.

“You, sir, are astounding.”

He winked at her. “Thank you.”

“How did you get into this garden?”

“Through the hedge.”

She looked at the closely cropped, thick hedge that stood just beyond the garden and didn’t see a break or even a ruffle of disturbance in the primly cut yew.

“Impossible.”

“Miss Blair, have you never heard the old adage, ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’?”

“You sir, are an extraordinary magician if you indeed came through that thick hedge.”

A roguish smile played on his lips and melted any hint of anger toward him. “I’ve had plenty of practice over the years, but I do have to admit that I am a bit rusty.” He grunted and adjusted his position on the ground to a sitting position. “I haven’t slipped into a garden to meet a young lady in years.”

“I should think not,” she admonished him. Although she was appalled by his brash behavior, she was also excited by it. “You are much too old for such pranks.”

He grimaced as he touched a slight scratch to his cheek. “I agree. They used to be such fun, and it is quite nice to know I can still do it.”

“I’m not surprised to hear you have done this sort of thing before.”

“I would rather you had allowed me to call on you properly.”

“Sir, I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you to call on me at all.”

“I’m sure you believe I’m living up to my reputation.”

“Indeed. You could have been caught slipping in here.” She stopped. “What am I saying?—I could be caught standing here talking to you and be scandalized. Emery and Hamlet were just in the garden.”

“I saw them and waited for them to leave. I’m always careful. I’ve been hiding on the other side of the hedge for some time now hoping Hamlet wouldn’t detect me and that you would come out into the garden this afternoon.”

“Really? Why?”

“I wanted to see you. You wouldn’t give me permission to call on you properly, so I shall call on you improperly. Now, come a bit closer so we won’t have to talk so loud and alert one of the servants.”

Closer? She shouldn’t be talking to him at all. But… rake that he was, with him there was always that but. She wanted to talk to him.

She walked closer to the statue and sat down on its base, right beside Lord Dunraven, who sat on the grass. She looked over at him. His hair was ruffled and had bits of shrub in it. The shoulder of his jacket had a small tear, and his white shirt had grass stains from the hedge. There was a small scratch on his cheek below his eye. He indeed looked like a gentleman who had just stolen into a garden to see the love of his life.

Suddenly she laughed softly.

“And what is so funny?” he asked as he leaned against the back of the statue.

“You.”

“Me? I hoped to impress you, not make you laugh at me. Where did I go wrong?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“I was just thinking that it is no wonder you have the reputation you do. Coming here like this was very risky for both of us.”

“I learned early in my youth how to steal into gardens, climb houses, and crawl into windows without being caught.”

“Stunts like that could easily fool most young ladies into thinking you were absolutely, madly in love with them.”

“Most?” he questioned. “I guess that means you are not included in that number.”

“Certainly not.”

“But you aren’t upset I came to see you.”

Oh no.

“Of course I am,” she said with little conviction in her voice. “It is very foolish. If you were caught here, my reputation would be ruined forever.”

“There should be some comfort in knowing that I’ve never actually been caught.”

“Obviously not. You would have been wed.”

“Which is the reason I’m always careful.”

“But you did say you were rusty.”

“Did I say that? Surely not. But, let’s see.”

In one fluid motion, he gently took hold of her wrist and pulled her down into the grass, half beside him and half on his lap, and covered her lips with his in a quick, soft kiss—but to her it was a powerful kiss that sent her head spinning with tantalizing sensations.

Millicent was too stunned to move or to say anything. She looked into his gently smiling eyes and felt no fear, no remorse, no shame. How could that be? It went against everything she had been taught.

He reached up and caressed her cheek with his fingertips and asked, “Have I lost my technique?”

“No, sir, you are very adept.”

She was almost sitting on top of him. He held her but with no forcing pressure. She could easily rise, scream, or even box his ears, but she remained where she was without moving.

He raised his lips to hers again for another gentle kiss. Her stomach quivered. His lips were warm and moist as he gently taught her how to return the kiss. It would be so easy to give herself up to his touch and simply enjoy this man, but she couldn’t. She must take control of him and herself and not allow this to continue.

She pushed against his chest and the kiss ended. “You have proven your point, Lord Dunraven. You are a rake of the highest order.”

“Should I consider that a compliment or insult?”

“You should consider it the truth. Now, I really must go before someone sees us.”

“May I call on you tomorrow?”

She rose from the ground and looked down at him. “I can’t allow that, sir. Please turn your attentions to someone else. Now, leave the way you came while I watch for you.”

He grinned and blew her a kiss.

The back door opened and Hamlet rushed out. He stood on the top step and barked a couple of times before he came running down the steps at top speed toward Millicent. Her heart jumped to her throat.

“Hurry, Lord Dunraven. Hamlet knows you are here,” Millicent whispered to him but he was already disappearing through a small opening he had made in the bottom of the shrub. It closed back together as soon as he was gone.

Hamlet headed straight for the hedge where Lord Dunraven had disappeared. He sniffed around the ground and barked.

Millicent looked back to the rear door saw that it was her own maid, Glenda, standing in the doorway. Millicent flinched. She wondered how long Glenda had been standing there. Could she have seen Lord Dunraven from where she stood? Would she say anything to her aunt if she had seen him or would she consider it none of her concern and remain quiet?

A small young lady with large dark eyes and sallow skin, Glenda was the quietest person Millicent had ever known. She could enter a room without anyone ever knowing she was there.

“Miss, are you all right?” she called.

“Yes, Glenda,” Millicent answered and without looking back toward Hamlet, she started walking toward her maid.

“You have a visitor.”

“No, no, I don’t have a visitor,” she fibbed, trying not to sound or act nervous, but wasn’t so sure she managed it. “I don’t know what Hamlet is barking at. Maybe a rabbit or a cat.”

She could strangle Lord Dunraven for putting her in this awkward position.

Glenda walked down the steps to meet Millicent. She presented Millicent a card on a silver tray. “No, miss, I mean you have had a visitor call on you. A young lady.”

“Oh, yes. I see. Thank you.” Millicent tried to calm her breathing as she picked up the card and read. “Lady Lynette Knightington.” She looked up at the maid. “Is the lady still here or did she just leave her card?”

“She’s in the front parlor, miss, but says not to bother you if she’s called at an inopportune time.”

Millicent wiped her lips with the back of her hand, remembering Lord Dunraven’s kiss, wishing she had more time to ponder why he was pursuing her.

She would think about him later.

This pleasant day had certainly turned into an exciting one. Should she greet the young lady who had been so friendly the night before or should she tell Glenda to say she was unavailable?

Millicent threw down the card on the tray. Angels above, her aunt couldn’t expect her to attend two and three parties each evening and not develop at least one friendship.

“Tell her I’ll be right there, then ask the housekeeper to speak to the cook about a fresh pot of tea and sandwiches.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Lady Lynette, how kind of you to call,” Millicent said a few moments later as she entered the front parlor. Her off-white day dress swept the floor, and her steps were soundless in her comfortable satin slippers.

Lady Lynette turned from the fireplace, where she was looking at the painting of a much younger Lady Beatrice that hung above the mantel. She smiled graciously at Millicent. “I’m so happy you were available to see me on short notice. I promise not to stay long.”

“Nonsense. Stay as long as you like. I’m having some tea brought in for us.”

“Thank you. And remember to call me Lynette. We are friends now, and there should be no formalities with us.”

“All right. Please sit down.”

Millicent motioned for Lady Lynette to take one of the twin burgundy-colored settees that were placed in the center of the cozy room. Matching gilded armchairs flanked each end of the settees, and a satinwood pedestal table with alabaster inlays stood between the settees. Burgundy and green-striped velvet drapery panels had been pulled back from the windows and daylight lit the parlor with brightness.

Lady Lynette was an imposing young lady, tall and robust. Her sapphire-blue walking dress spread out over the small settee as she sat down on the edge. Her matching bonnet had a wide ribbon sash tied under her chin that covered most of the birthmark that spilled over her cheek. Millicent noticed that Lady Lynette’s face was really quite lovely when the dark red birthmark was covered.

Millicent took a deep breath, smiled, and sat in the settee opposite the other woman.

“How is Lady Beatrice feeling?” Lady Lynette asked.

“A little better each day, but I’m afraid she’s not up to visitors.”

“That’s quite all right. I understand. Please tell her I asked for her.”

“I shall be happy to. I’m sure she’ll be disappointed she wasn’t able to see you.”

“I saw you dancing with Lord Dunraven last night.”

Millicent suddenly became wary. Was there any way Lady Lynette could have seen Lord Dunraven sneak into the garden? Millicent remained calm and said, “Yes, that’s right.”

“I talked with my mother about it at breakfast this morning.”

That was rather presumptuous, but Millicent decided not to take her to task—just yet. She would wait and see where the conversation was going. She answered, “Is that so?”

“Yes. I explained you had been recently introduced to me and that you were here only for the Season. Since you are new in Town, my mother and I felt I should take it upon myself to come and warn you about Lord Dunraven.”

“Warn me?” Millicent asked but felt sure she knew what Lady Lynette would say, and she was a little perturbed at how quickly the subject changed from pleasantries to what must have been the real reason for her visit.

Lady Lynette rolled her eyes upward and smiled. “To be sure he’s the most charming of the Terrible Threesome, and most young ladies think the most handsome, too. But if you came to Town looking to make a match you would do well to forget about Lord Dunraven and concentrate on someone else.”

“It was only one dance, Lynette. And he was not the only gentleman I danced with.”

“I know, but he is the only one that you danced with who is unattainable. Over the years so many young ladies have lost their hearts to him only to be disappointed. I think you should take more interest in Sir Charles Wright or Viscount Tolby. Both are handsome and either would suit. Lord Dunraven’s interest in any young lady is not to be taken seriously. I could tell you stories about him that would—but you don’t want to hear things about him, I’m sure.”

Oh, but I do.

She saw this as her opportunity to find out more about the dashing rogue who was so daring as to go so quickly from merely caressing her hand and blowing kisses to sneaking into the garden, pulling her down, on the grass beside him and kissing her on the lips.

“Oh, no bad things, but I would like to know a little more about him. I keep hearing about these earls who are called the Terrible Threesome. What exactly has Lord Dunraven done that makes him such a scoundrel?”

“I thought you’d never give me permission to tell. Now that I’m older, most of the friends I have are married and are not into hearing the gossip about the bachelors.” Lady Lynette smiled waggishly and moved closer to the edge of her seat but held her tongue as Glenda came in with the tea.

Millicent had to smile at how young Lady Lynette suddenly looked. She probably hadn’t reached thirty yet and right now she looked more like seventeen. No doubt she would relish telling every word of gossip she knew. Her eyes fairly sparkled with enjoyment and her strong facial features turned playful.

As soon as Glenda left the room Lady Lynette said, “Everyone in Town thought Lord Dunraven would marry as soon as he finished his education because he had already inherited the title. All the young ladies and hopeful widows set their caps for him that first year he was eligible. But no, word got out quickly that he would see all three of his sisters wed before he took a wife. Naturally he was then considered unattainable.”

“And that made him all the more sought after?” Millicent asked, while she poured tea for.

“Indeed. It’s been that way for at least ten years—for all the Terrible Threesome.”

Millicent said, “Cream or sugar?”

“Plenty of both. Lord Dunraven dances, charms, and calls on many of the ladies each Season. And from what I’ve overheard, he has certainly stolen more than his share of kisses. He’s never offered for the hand of any lady. I don’t believe he’s ever called on a lady more than three times in a Season.”

“Why is that?”

“One never knows for sure because Lord Dunraven hasn’t spoken about it to anyone as far as I know, but I would assume it’s because he doesn’t want any fathers forcing his hand about his intentions.”

“Yes, I suppose he’d be serious if he called on the same lady more than three times.”

“Everyone assumes he prefers to spend his time with his friends racing fast horses during the day, gaming in the evenings, and gambling into early morning hours. Mama says that some gentlemen never settle down and take wives.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Millicent answered as she handed Lynette a blue cup with a pink flower painted on it.

Lady Lynette accepted with her gloved hand as she leaned forward and whispered, “You won’t tell anyone what I’ve told you?”

“No,” Millicent assured her.

“Good. I don’t usually talk so much, but then I don’t usually have anyone other than Mama who wants to listen to me.”

“You can feel free to call on me when you want to talk. I’m enjoying hearing about Lord Dunraven—and other members of the ton,” she added quickly.

“One time I overheard a young gentleman say that Lord Dunraven was keeping four mistresses in Town. All at the same time.”

Millicent’s eyes widened. “My goodness. That many?”

“Astonishing, isn’t it?”

“I would think so. That does sound like four too many.”

“And sometimes he would see all four of them in one evening, and I’ve heard more than one at a time,” Lady Lynette added in a softer whisper.

Shocked, Millicent lowered her cup back to the saucer. Did she dare believe that of Lord Dunraven or was it mere gossip? Four women in one evening and more than one at one time? If only part of what Lady Lynette said was true then his reputation was well deserved. But… he had indicated that everything that was said about him wasn’t true.

“I’m sure I don’t know what to say to that except, perhaps I’ve heard enough about Lord Dunraven and his mistresses.”

Lady Lynette paid no mind to Millicent’s subtle suggestion they move on to another topic of conversation and added, “He’s noted for stealing kisses at any opportunity and then not offering for the lady’s hand.”

Lady Lynette said the words as if it were the most dreadful thing that could happen to a young lady. Millicent had been kissed a couple of times on the cheek, and she had wondered what was the harm in a kiss or two, but not anymore. Those kisses had been most uninspiring. But Lord Dunraven’s kisses this afternoon had left her head spinning and her lungs breathless.

“On the few occasions he calls on a lady, he always brings the same gift without fail,” Lady Lynette continued.

It was clear she was not ready to change the subject, so Millicent said, “Really? What would that be?”

“Apricot tarts. His chef is said to make the most delicious tarts in all of London.” She bent closer to Millicent. “If he brings you any, you will save one for me, won’t you? I’ve always wanted to taste them.”

Millicent faltered for a moment, but quickly said, “Of course, but truly, Lynette, I gave Lord Dunraven no encouragement whatsoever. I do not expect him or any other gentleman to call on me.”

“He might. He danced with you.”

“And so have many other gentlemen. Let me assure you Lady Heathecoute set up the dance between Lord Dunraven and me. He was but a reluctant participant. You have no cause to worry about him putting me under a magic spell.”

“If he doesn’t, you will be the first. Just last year Lord Truefitt suggested in his column that Lord Dunraven was seeing Lady Lambsbeth. It turns out he was seeing her in secret while her husband was in France.”

Millicent gasped. “A married woman?”

She nodded once. “I’m sure by now you know that Lord Dunraven is quite hard to turn down.”

Oh, yes, I know.

“Lord Lambsbeth heard about it when he arrived in Town. He marched into White’s, drew his sword against Lord Dunraven, demanding a duel.”

“What happened?”

She sipped her tea again before saying, “Lord Lambsbeth’s friends grabbed his arm and forced him to put away his sword. Everyone knew he was much too old to challenge such a young man. I heard he and his wife immediately went back to Paris without further incident. There are always rumors about Lord Dunraven’s mistresses, stealing kisses in gardens, but nothing has ever upset him like the time he was linked to Lady Lambsbeth in the gossip columns.”

“It’s no wonder. Seeing a married woman. It could have cost him his life.” This was more proof that Millicent had been right in being so cautious where Lord Dunraven was concerned.

“Every year there is always a young lady who decides she can snare one of the earls. This year it is Miss Bardwell.”

“Yes,” Millicent said. “I’ve met her.”

“She tricked all three of them into dancing with her last evening. She does seem to be more forward than previous young ladies, and her father allows her wild behavior. And poor Miss Donaldson is heartsick. She fears her father wants her to marry an older bachelor who is determinedly courting her, and she is not at all delighted with his attentions.”

“How do you know all this?” Millicent asked, surprised and curious as to why Lady Lynette knew so much about what was going on in Society.

“I’ve told you. I listen to what is being said around me. I’m usually very careful not to repeat what I’ve heard, but for some reason you are so very easy to talk to. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve sought you out to talk to.”

“No, of course not.”

“Perhaps I’ve confided in you because you told me you will only be here for the Season. It would be a shame for you to set your heart for a gentleman who is beyond your reach.”

“You’re quite right,” Millicent agreed, but inside she knew she had enjoyed Lord Dunraven’s attention, even if he had done the same thing to a hundred young ladies before her and even though he was risking her reputation.

As Lady Lynette sipped her tea, Millicent looked at her and realized that the young lady was a wealth of Society information. Millicent could almost write a gossip column just by listening to Lady Lynette. And that was good to know.

***

Chandler shook rain from his coat, then strode with purpose into the dark tavern located near Bow Street. The evening crowds hadn’t arrived, so even in the dim light it was easy for him to spot the man he was to meet.

The short, slim-built Thief Taker rose from his chair at the table when Chandler approached. “Lord Dunraven, I didn’t count on you wanting to see me again so soon.”

“Doulton. I expect you shall see me every day until I hear from you the thief has been caught and the raven has been recovered.”

Chandler picked up the bottle of port from the table and poured a splash into the glass that Doulton had pushed over to him.

“Tell me, what can I do for you today?” the man said.

Chandler’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what your men discovered yesterday.”

Doulton clasped his hands together and laid them on the table in front of him. He blinked slowly. “Well.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, causing a loud squeak. “I told you yesterday I have two of my best men interviewing guests who were in attendance at all three of the parties where there have been thefts. Someone was bound to have seen something or someone suspicious, but there are hundreds of people to talk to. That takes time, Lord Dunraven.”

“Then maybe you should have more than two Runners doing the questioning.”

“Perhaps I could spare more. I’ll look in to it.”

“Today?”

“Yes, today.” He shifted in his chair again. “You know that more and more people are considering the notion that it is a ghost committing the robberies.”

“A ghost?” Chandler gave him a curious stare. “Where did this come from?”

He blinked faster. “I’m not sure where it started, but it is queer that no one has seen anyone walking out with the missing items. And no one has reported seeing a stranger in any of the homes.”

“Don’t tell me you think there’s any possibility there’s a ghost doing this.”

“No, no, not me.”

“Good, because I can assure you it wasn’t a ghost who stole the raven. Damnation! One of the scandal sheets probably started this outlandish rumor, as they did with calling him the Mad Ton Thief.”

“Yes, now that you mention it,” Doulton said nervously. “I believe that is where it started.”

“Thank you for reassuring me you, at least, are sane. The jewelry could have easily fit in a man’s coat pockets, and the raven could have been held under a man’s waistcoat. Ghost indeed. Pickpockets can take your coin purse right out from under your nose without you realizing it. Does that make them a ghost?”

“No sir. But you must admit that the whole affair with this thief is rather strange.”

“No, Doulton. It is not strange to have a thief on the loose among the ton. The strange thing is that he hasn’t been caught and neither you nor the authorities have a suspect yet.”

Doulton sniffed uncomfortably and moved in his chair again. “I only meant that no one has seen anyone who looks like a thief.”

“Right, because a beggar would be easy to spot at a dinner party. It means they are damn good at what they do, so you have to be better.”

“Yes, quite right, and so we are.” Doulton rose from his chair. “The only problem is that we haven’t had enough time. You must give us more time. We have to interview everyone. Even the smallest clue might help us identify the thief.”

“There are other things that need to be done. I suggest you station a couple of Runners at each party to watch for suspicious-looking characters.”

“But that would cost a lot of money, sir. I’m not sure we have the authorization to do that.”

“I’m quite friendly with the lord mayor. If you need more money or men to help you accomplish this, tell me now, and I will speak to him. He will know how to go about seeing to it that you have more men on this case. And you need to have someone checking with all the known traders to see if anyone has shown the missing items.”

“That’s a very good suggestion. No reason for you to bother the lord mayor or anyone else. I’ll speak to him and see what can be done. And give me a few more days to look over all the information that my men have obtained so far. I’m sure we’ll come up with a suspect.”

Chandler didn’t know how many days he had. Even now someone could be melting the raven into a lump of gold. The only thing he knew for sure was that it wasn’t a ghost who had stolen the raven.