We had a thief among us!
Without thinking, I stepped soundly out of my room and on light slippered feet I followed the intruder. Earlier, the Late Lord Ardmillan’s private collection had been displayed in the attic rooms above us. Euan and the family solicitor Mr. Buchanan were the only key holders.
The scoundrel held a small lantern and kept the light shuttered so only a thin beam shone to light his footfalls. The figure crept to the stone steps that led to the attic. I deduced that he must be residing at the house, for how else would he gain access to the remote hall in such frightful weather. To say this scenario was disquieting would be an understatement. Who would dare steal from the Late Lord Ardmillan’s private collection?
I moved slowly and carefully up the stone steps and paused on the landing as the spidery sounds of metal against metal met my ears. The blaggard was picking the lock! There was an audible click and then I heard the squeak of hinges. The door was opened and closed as the thief stepped into the attic room. I stepped forward and listened at the oak door. What was this scoundrel here to steal? Could he too seek The Staff of Asklepios? I had not waited for so many years to have the Staff within my grasp to then lose it to a damnable cat burglar, oh no!
I placed my hand on the brass doorknob and slowly twisted. I eased the attic door open a crack and my eyes searched the frigid gloom for the creeper with the lantern light. I saw that the lantern had been set on the trestle table that was used earlier to display the Lord's treasures. I could not see hide-nor-hair of the man I’d followed and it appeared that the collection had been moved elsewhere. What the devil was he doing? I knew that thirty years ago servants slept here, so there were other smaller rooms connected to the main attic. The servants now slept on the lower floors where it was warmer, and so the attic was virtually derelict.
I stepped into the room to have my arm violently tugged to the left. I was slammed into the wall, the swiftness of the action stealing the breath from me. The man who had accosted me was cloaked in darkness. He spoke with a cultured British accent.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing skulking around after me in the dark?” He said in a rough whisper. I did not recall this voice belonging to any of the other guests.
“I could ask you the same thing…thief!” I accused. Although my heart thudded like a bass drum I was not afraid, and believe that it was the Port wine I’d consumed after dinner that gave me such reckless courage. Euan was my friend and I would not see him fall prey to this marauder, whoever he was.
The attic was frigidly cold and drafty, but I felt the distinct warmth of the man’s hot breath on my skin as he held me in place with the weight of his body. He smelled of spiced wine, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger. He let out a laugh at my passionate outburst.
“Thief, ay! I have been called worse in my time. But I prefer that title with the proper adjective… Gentleman thief.”
“You are no gentleman. How dare you, how dare you prowl around this house of mourning and seek to fill your pockets.” I said in an outraged whisper.
“Oh, come now Benedict”,
I took in a sharp breath, astounded that this man knew my name. My gaze dropped and I saw the lantern light illuminate a pair of rather splendid boots. Two-tone black and russet leather ankle boots to be precise. I had seen boots like this before, but they belonged to another man, a kind, intelligent American named John Edwards of Massachusetts who had kept me company on my overnight journey. His boots were laced and each lace capped with a silver charm in the shape of….I gasped as silver charms twinkled at the tips of the laces of these boots.
“John Edwards?” The words were whispered in a breath. The man chuckled.
“Why sir, you made the most excellent company on the journey to up to Bonny Scotland!” The intruder said with a distinctive American accent.
“What the devil is going on?” I barged past the silhouetted man and rushed to the table and grabbed the handle of the lantern. I pulled the shutter open and a bright light shone upon the face of… Mr. Artur Engels of Germany. I took a step back.
“Who the hell are you?” I wondered for a moment if Laudanum had been added to my wine earlier, or if my tryst with Euan had brought on a frightful dream. If this was a dream I wanted to wake up now!
“Oh Benedict, you are so very naive. It’s one of the things that immediately attracted me to you.” The stranger said drolly.
I’d seen enough. I needed to rouse the alarm and the men of the house could deal with Mr. Edwards, or Engels or whatever his blasted name was. There was no way I would allow him to leave this house with even a pilfered penny! I eyed my captor and then the door behind him.
“There’s no point looking at the door, dear heart!” The well-spoken man said. “I’ve locked it. I lured you here for a reason Benedict. Now, let’s take a seat and have a little chat, shall we?”
I was horrified that the man admitted that he had
