On a Wicked Dawn

had been invited to visit in a few weeks' time. She blinked, then nodded. 'I hadn't really thought, but you're right. I wouldn't want a panic over gowns while Mark's here.'

Amelia hid her smile. 'Indeed.' She looked at Anne. 'We should check your things, too.'

Anne smiled and nodded her agreement.

Perfectly readily, without the slightest hint of trepidation.

Amelia glanced down the table. At the other end, even though his conversation with Lucifer hadn't faltered, Luc had been watching, following her tack. She met his dark gaze; although he didn't precisely nod, she sensed his agreement to her plan.

If Anne had been stealing things, what was she doing with them? If her actions were purely an irrational compulsion, then the items would be hidden somewhere, most likely in her room. With Emily, Portia, and Penelope forever about, let alone the maids and Mrs. Higgs, anywhere else seemed unlikely. And even if Anne had somehow managed to sell some items, as the matter of the saltcellar seemed to suggest, she couldn't possibly have sold everything.

'Is there much to see in the village?' Phyllida asked.

Amelia looked up. 'Not really, but it's a pleasant place. We could go riding that way after lunch, if you'd like.' She nodded down the table at their spouses. 'They'll no doubt be occupied elsewhere.'

Phyllida grinned. 'Indeed. After lunch, then.' She pushed back her chair.

The table broke up. Phyllida and Minerva went out for a stroll in the gardens. Miss Pink ushered her charges up the stairs to the schoolroom. Leaving Luc and Lucifer still talking over their coffee cups, Amelia, Emily, and Anne headed off for the girls' rooms.

The necessity of examining their gowns wasn't a complete fabrication. It was Emily's and Anne's gowns that had first alerted Amelia to the family's straightened circumstances — she'd noticed fabrics being reused, gowns recut and refashioned; it had been cleverly done but having been in such frequent contact with the family, she'd seen and guessed the truth.

Now, there was no reason the girls couldn't have new gowns, that their wardrobes couldn't be improved to a level commensurate with their social standing. The girls themselves knew nothing of that, but Amelia did.

She directed them first to Emily's room. Emily opened her wardrobe doors wide, Amelia sank into an armchair by the window, Anne plopped down on the bed, and they all settled to enjoy themselves.

Forty minutes later, they'd exhaustively examined the contents of Emily's wardrobe and dresser. Amelia had extended their purview to include all garments, shoes, accessories of all kinds; every drawer and box in Emily's room had been looked into, the contents picked over.

Glancing down at the tablet on which she'd jotted various notes, Amelia nodded. 'Very well. We'll arrange to get all these things. Now…' She waved to the corridor.

Without further direction, they decamped to Anne's room next door.

There they repeated the exercise, this time with Emily perched on the bed and Anne at the wardrobe doors. Amelia watched Anne closely as she pulled out gowns, shawls, and spencers. Not a glimmer of self-consciousness, not a trace of guilty fear, showed in Anne's sweet face — just a shy delight at being included in such an undertaking.

Again, the contents of every drawer, every hatbox and bandbox were examined; all Amelia discovered was that Anne needed more silk stockings, a new pair of evening gloves, and a new cherry red shawl.

Holding the old one up, Anne studied it in dismay. 'I've no idea… it was old, of course, but I can't think why the weave should have given way like that.'

Amelia shrugged. 'Silk sometimes does that — just gives way.' Although the fabric of the shawl looked like it had been worried and wrenched. 'Never mind. We'll get you a new one.'

Emily sat up. 'Until you get a new shawl, you won't be carrying your red reticule — the one that matched it. Can I borrow it? It's just the right shade to go with my carriage dress.'

'Of course.' Anne looked up at the shelf above the wardrobe's hanging space. 'It should be here somewhere.'

Amelia glanced down at her notes. Emily and Anne shared clothes and accessories freely, a fact that had further disguised the lack in their wardrobes from the eagle eyes of the ton's matrons. She scribbled a reminder to make sure Anne had all she needed to go on with, given all indications were that Emily would shortly be leaving home.

'I'm sure it was here.' Stretched on her toes. Anne pushed things this way, then that. 'Ah — here it is.'

She pulled the reticule free by its strings; with a grin, she swung and let it fly across the room to Emily on the bed.

Emily laughed and caught it, then her face registered surprise. 'It's heavy. What on earth have you got in it?'

As she felt the contents of the reticule through the layers of red silk, Emily's expression grew more puzzled.

Amelia glanced at Anne, but the only expression on her face, in her brown eyes, was one of complete bemusement. 'A handkerchief, some pins. I don't know what could be heavy…' But they could all now see the shape under Emily's hands. 'Let me see.'

Anne crossed to the bed, to Emily's side; Amelia rose and joined them. By then, Emily had tugged the reticule's strings loose; she eased open the top and looked in. Then, frowning, she reached in and pulled out—

'A quizzing glass.' Emily held it up. They all stared at the ornately chased stem, at the tiny jewels winking along its length.

'Whose on earth is it?'

It was Anne who asked the question. Amelia looked at her — closely, sharply; no matter how hard she looked there was nothing but total befuddlement in the younger girl's face.

'And how did it get there?' Anne glanced back at her wardrobe, then swept around and returned to the shelf. Without Amelia suggesting it, Anne hauled all her reticules, all the hatboxes they'd already examined down. When the shelf was bare, she pushed aside the boxes and knelt beside the mound of reticules. She opened each one, and shook out the contents. Handkerchiefs, pins, a comb, two fans.

Nothing else.

Sitting back on her heels, Anne looked across the room. 'I don't understand.'

Neither did Amelia. 'It's not your mother's, is it?'

Emily shook her head, still studying the quizzing glass. 'I don't think I've seen anyone else with it either.'

Amelia took the quizzing glass. It truly was heavy; she couldn't imagine any lady carrying such a thing. Anne had drawn near, frowning at the glass — entirely at a loss.

'It must have been put into your reticule by mistake.'

Amelia slid the glass into the pocket of her day gown. 'I'll ask around — the owner shouldn't be too hard to trace.' She looked around. 'Now, have we finished going through everything?'

Anne blinked, then looked about, somewhat dazedly. 'I think so.'

Emily gathered up the red reticule and jumped from the bed. 'I've just remembered — it's our day to do the vases.'

Amelia manufactured a smile. 'You'd better get going then — there's less than an hour to luncheon.'

They left the room; Anne closed the door. Emily popped into her room to leave the red reticule there, then rejoined them as they headed down the corridor. Amelia hung back as the two girls went ahead down the stairs; at the bottom, they turned and waved, then continued on to the garden hall.

On the last stair, Amelia paused. Emily had smiled, Anne had not. Doubtless, Emily had already dismissed the quizzing glass from her mind; she had too many far more pleasant matters to dwell on. Anne, however, was worried. Possibly a little fearful. But so she would be; despite being quiet, she was not unintelligent. None of Luc's sisters was.

Amelia stood in the empty front hall, hand on the newel post, gazing unseeing at the front door, then she sighed, re-focused, stepped down from the stairs, and headed for the study.

Luc looked up as Amelia entered the study. She saw him seated behind his large desk, but didn't smile. He watched impassively as she closed the door, then crossed the room.

As she neared, he realized her expression was unfamiliar — reserved, almost somber.