loud and full, then dropped to the tiniest whisper, never losing its strength and quality.
Those around me were enchanted as well, but after a time, I stopped noticing anyone else. I heard only the music, observed only the curve of Lady Breckenridge's cheek, her face soft with enjoyment. Lady Breckenridge might once have been the naive young wretch she described, but she'd left that girl far behind.
For a moment, I forgot about necklaces, weeping ladies, de la Fontaine's unhappiness, and the cold rain outside. There was only this bliss of warmth and music, and Lady Breckenridge's smile.
The aria ended, not in a crescendo, but in a few low notes of pure sweetness. As soon as the lady closed her mouth, the room erupted in applause and shouts of Brava! Brava!
They surged forward to meet her, swamping Lady Breckenridge, who stood next to her protege. I wondered why Lady Breckenridge had brought me to this crush if she wished to speak to me privately as her letter had stated. I'd never get near her.
I spied Lady Clifford, dressed in a blue velvet gown too tight for her figure, her high feathered headdress bobbing as she moved among her acquaintance. Hearing snatches of her conversation, I learned that she took much of the credit for arranging the gathering and persuading the soprano to sing.
Lady Clifford spied me watching her. She made her way to me, clamped her hand around my arm, and drew me into a corner.
'Have you found the thief, Captain?' she asked, a bit too loudly for my taste.
'I am afraid I've turned up nothing, yet,' I had to say.
'I wanted to tell you, I believe my husband was right that I made a mistake asking for your help.' She smiled at me, but the smile was strained. 'You have no more need to bestir yourself. Waters came home, and so that is all right. The real thief will be found by the Runners, eventually. Nothing more for you to do.'
I hid my surprise at her request, but perhaps Lord Clifford had bullied her into dismissing me. 'You at first believed Mrs. Dale had taken the necklace,' I said. 'You told me so.'
Lady Clifford flushed a blotchy red. 'As to that-I again made a mistake. Annabelle has many faults, but she would not be so foolish as to steal something so valuable as the necklace. I did not realize.. '
She trailed off, not telling me what she hadn't realized.
'Did your husband tell you that I found your other necklace, Lady Clifford?' I asked.
'Other necklace? What other necklace?'
'The one you took to a pawnbroker near Hanover Square. Your husband identified it as a yours. Said it was a necklace you'd owned before your marriage.'
Her flush deepened but I saw relief in her eyes. 'Captain, really, you should not have interfered there. It was mine to sell as I pleased.'
'You sent Waters to sell it for you, did you not? The proprietor described her.'
'Yes, well I could not go myself, could I? Not to a pawnbroker's.' She nodded so vigorously that her feathers bent and swayed as though she stood in a heavy wind. 'I see what you are thinking, Captain. That I sold the larger diamond necklace as well, for my own reasons. Well, I did not. I certainly did not.'
'I believe you,' I said.
Her agitation dissolved into surprise. 'Do you?'
'I do. Would you like me to continue to find the answer? And the necklace?'
'No,' she said quickly. 'I think it doesn't matter anymore.' She paused then shook her head, feathers dancing. 'No, it does not. But I thank you, Captain. Thank you for believing me.'
She clutched my arm again, fingers crushing, then at last released me and flowed back into the crowd.
I still could come nowhere near Lady Breckenridge, so I enjoyed myself sipping brandy and speaking to the Derwents and Gareth Travers. I asked Sir Gideon his opinion of Lord Clifford, and he gave me a surprising answer.
'Not a good-humored man, certainly. And his household is not a happy one, from what I hear. No, his benevolence lies elsewhere. He has given much money to help the London poor and is a staunch supporter of many of my reform efforts. He's made speeches in the House of Lords on my behalf.'
I contrasted this picture to the snarling, unpleasant man I'd met, and Sir Gideon chuckled.
'You are amazed, Captain. Yes, it comes as a bit of a shock to those who have made his acquaintance. I offer no excuse for his demeanor. Some men are born surly, I suppose. But he was able to convince the magistrates to release his wife's maid. He speaks loudly to the right people about the appalling conditions of prisons and of corruption among magistrates. He was able to bring her home and have the charges dismissed.'
'To think, I imagined this would be a simple matter,' I said.
'Nothing is simple where Lord Clifford is concerned. He is a cipher, Captain, even to me.'
I thanked Sir Gideon for his opinion, and we turned the conversation to other matters.
Guests seemed determined to stay until breakfast, but once the soprano said her farewells and departed, they began to migrate toward the doors. Lady Breckenridge edged me away from the lingerers, until we ended up relatively alone at the fireplace.
She put her hands to her cheeks. 'My face hurts from all this bloody smiling. The things I suffer for my artists.'
'But you enjoyed the performance,' I said. 'The pleasure I saw in you was real.'
A hint of the earlier smile returned. 'Yes,' she said. 'But cease the compliments and listen, before someone decides to drag me off into an inane conversation. I have something to tell you that was not in my letter. Which, I trust, you read carefully.'
'Every word,' I said. 'It was quite intriguing.'
'I am certain it was. However, when my maid was dressing me this evening, she imparted intelligence from Lady Clifford's kitchens. Waters, the maid, was enjoying telling her harrowing tale of Bow Street gaol and being up before the magistrate. Reprieved at the last moment by testimony from Lord Clifford.'
'Sir Gideon has been telling me that Lord Clifford is a bit of a reformer who worries the magistrates.'
'Gracious, there is more to the story than that. According to those below stairs, Lord Clifford was persuaded to intervene on the behalf of young Waters by Annabelle Dale. Begged him tearfully, said an upstairs maid, who overheard the conversation. Apparently, Mrs. Dale asked Lord Clifford to help for 'poor, dear Marguerite's sake. We must all do what we can to spare Marguerite.' Extremely interesting, do you not think?'
Exceedingly. Spare Marguerite. Spare her from what?
'Life in the Clifford household must certainly be interesting,' I said with feeling.
'I agree.' Lady Breckenridge glanced across the room at Lady Clifford, and her mouth tightened with impatience. 'I believe I will be more careful of the favors I do you in future.'
'Investigating crime is not always a pleasant thing.'
'I never thought it was. Certainly nothing for a gentleman or a lady who knows better. But that is why you interest me, Lacey. You never do what you ought.'
'Nor do you.'
The looked she gave me was measuring. 'But I am an aristocrat and have the excuse of being removed from my fellow beings. You must strive to be utterly respectable, and yet, you do not always bother. I believe that is why I like you.'
'I am obliged to you for that liking.'
She regarded me for one more moment, her expression unreadable. 'I can never decide, Lacey, whether you are complimenting me or mocking me, but it is no matter. I see that Lady Clifford has cornered an admiral. I am afraid I must rescue him. Good night, Captain.'
I bowed. 'My lady.'
She sashayed away, throwing that sincere smile over her shoulder, and I stood for a moment, enjoying watching her go.
As I left the Breckenridge house, settling my hat against the rain, I wondered. Had Mrs. Dale actually taken the bloody necklace as Lady Clifford had first suspected? Just as she'd hidden Lady Clifford's knitting basket and caused a scene? Perhaps guilt had made her beg Lord Clifford to bring home the maid. Or perhaps Mrs. Dale had shown benevolence toward the maid to land herself in Lady Clifford's good graces again.
Whatever the answer was, I was growing thoroughly tired of this problem. It was late, the cold rain made my
