Agatha frowned. “Can’t you tell me what it is, then? If it wasn’t me that caused the… lapse,” she tried the word for herself, “then what was it?”
“In the general store,” Celian said tersely, forcing himself to say the words, “it was the woman, the loud one, talking about the night of the robbery; you see,” he looked up at her. “I was there, in the form of the dog.”
Agatha gave a slight gasp. “So it wasn’t Major who saved Mollie,” she cried, “it was you!”
Celian nodded. “One of the robbers had a knife, and he cut me in the side—that's how I was wounded so badly when Dr. Grove and Madeline found me the next morning.”
Agatha took Celian’s hand, her face full of concern. “But what about yesterday? No one even mentioned the robbery.”
“On the beach…” Celian found this confession even harder than the last one. “I saw…” he huffed. “The night of the robbery, as I was coming toward the house to visit you, I happened to see two men in dark clothes arrive and meet someone at the gate who gave them a parcel. That's all I got, said the one with the parcel, I sold everything, and that's all the money I got. The men outside the gate got very angry, and they took the parcel, but they threatened the other person, saying they would be back, and that he'd better leave the gate open, if he knew what was good for him. Then I saw one of the servants come out and call for him, saying that it was time for dinner.” his voice grew hoarse and hollow, "...And that is who I saw on the beach yesterday.”
Agatha’s mouth dropped open. “But whom did you see? We didn't have any guests for dinner that night--was it one of the servants, neglecting their duties to parley with a couple thieves?”
Celian winced. He knew he couldn’t keep it a secret any longer, as painful as it was. “I saw… your brother.”
Agatha bounded to her feet, eyes wide in shock. “Thomas?!?” she shrieked.
The door flew open, and the man himself popped in. “Somebody call me?” he joked.
Behind him, Lord Dalton and Lady Dalton regarded their daughter curiously.
“Well?” Lord Dalton stared at Celian in confusion. “Agatha, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Agatha recovered herself, though she wouldn’t look in Tom’s direction. “Oh, er, father, this is Celian; he’s asked to court me!”
“He what?” Lady Dalton stamped her foot.
Lord Dalton only looked rather amused as he shook hands with Celian. “Well, I can’t say I object much, seeing how happy you’ve made her, which is more than I can say for any other suitor she’s ever had—“
“Father!”
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the stranger who could end up becoming his potential son-in-law. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
Celian smiled and held Agatha’s hand. “I believe I do,” he said.
Agatha didn’t want to waste another moment. She whirled on her brother. “Tom,” she said, as the rest of the family fell silent, “I need to ask you: where were you on the night of the robbery?”
“Eh?” His Lordship placed a hand on his hip and leaned against the high-backed sofa. “What’s this about?”
“Yes, Agatha,” Thomas tensed, but at least kept his voice even. “You know where I was. We were all at supper when it happened.”
Agatha watched her brother carefully; now it was his turn to avoid her gaze. “What about before?” She pressed. “Mother sent Charlie up for you, but you weren’t in your room.”
“I know,” Thomas retorted. “I was in the library, and I heard Mason announce that supper was ready.”
Now Lord Dalton turned to look at his son. “That’s not what you told the police inspector when he asked,” he muttered.
Tom blinked, a vacant gleam in his eyes.
“You were outside when Charlie came to fetch you, weren't you Tom?” Agatha coaxed quietly. “You met the robbers at the gate beforehand, and then you left open for them to come back later and empty the rest of the safe--whatever you hadn't already sold or pawned to pay off whatever debt they were trying to collect.”
“Oh Thomas!” Lady Dalton looked like she was about to faint.
“That’s not true!” Tom flushed bright red. “I didn’t—it wasn’t…” but try as he might, he couldn’t quite form the words. His hands trembled.
“It was him,” Celian added. “I was… passing by that night, and I saw him.”
The young man scowled at him. “He’s lying! Who the devil do you think you are? There wasn’t anybody about at that hour!”
Agatha put a hand on Celian’s arm. “Are you sure it was Thomas?” she asked quietly.
Celian nodded. “It is why I ran away from the two of you on the beach. I remember him.”
Thomas leaped to his feet, though he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on Celian in the presence of his father. “What do you mean, you remember me? Are you talking about yesterday, when I caught the two of you together, and you almost knocked my brains out? Is that why you seem so keen on getting me into trouble today? Agatha, really, why do you trust this man?”
Before anyone could answer, a scuffle erupted down the hall, and Mason entered, dragging Charlie by his collar. “Pardon the interruption, Your Lordship,” he said in a severe tone, “but I believe I have identified the source of the thieves’ intimate knowledge of the secrets in this house.” Charlie gave a wrench, but Mason held firm, digging with his free hand into his pocket, from which he produced several singed scraps of paper. “I found Charlie here trying desperately to get rid of these.”
“What are they?” Agatha asked, peeping around her father’s shoulder as he accepted the scraps.
Mason set his jaw with a huff. “Gambling receipts and pawnshop tickets, I’m afraid.”
“Yeh, well, they ain’t bloody mine!” Charlie growled from
