The vase!
“Yes, of course,” Bea said eagerly, eyeing the vessel, which was slender, to be sure, but not so narrow that an emerald ring or a pearl necklace would not slide easily through the opening. “So not a secret document revealing Mr. Mayhew’s true parentage, then.”
Kesgrave’s lips quirked, indicating that he had not realized they were entertaining that possibility. “Not a secret document, no.”
As Mrs. Wallace looked on in bewilderment, Bea lifted the vase and noted its inordinate weight. “That would seem to confirm your supposition. Would you like to do the honors?” she asked, holding out the vase.
He deferred to her and asked Mrs. Wallace to retrieve a glass so they may empty the water neatly. She complied at once, disappearing into the other room and returning with two goblets and a teacup. “I was not sure if one would do,” she explained awkwardly.
Bea removed the roses, placed them gently on the desk and tilted the vase. At once she heard the clang of metal and smiled excitedly at Kesgrave. A few moment later, several dozen gold coins clattered onto the surface. “Well done, your grace,” she murmured.
Agog, Mrs. Wallace stared at the treasure. “But that is a small fortune in guineas. In my very room. Under my very nose,” she said, her tone as amazed as it was dismayed, before fervently apologizing to the duke for her ignorance. “I had no idea. I assure you, your grace, I had no idea at all. I cannot believe Monsieur Alphonse dropped them in there while I was getting the cordial. There are so many. I was gone for only one minute, maybe two, and when I returned, he was sitting in that chair, as calmly as you please, and he had just placed a small fortune in my flower vase. If I had had any suspicion that such a wicked scheme was afoot, I would have reported it to you at once, your grace. Oh, my, and think of the scandal if Dolly had found the money when she came in to change the water. What a horror! If I had had any clue they were there, I would have come to you at once. You must believe me, your grace.”
Having accepted her suitor’s romantic duplicity with aplomb, the housekeeper seemed thoroughly unnerved by his financial deceit.
“You may calm yourself, Mrs. Wallace,” Kesgrave said firmly, “for I have no worry on that head. I am sure you were ignorant of Monsieur Alphonse’s dealings, and even if you were not, you have done nothing wrong. We know nothing of the source of the money, and there is no reason to assume the explanation is sinister.”
Pausing her count of soggy guineas at twenty-one, Bea glanced at the duke with amusement. “No reason?”
Mrs. Wallace shook her head and sank down into her chair on the other side of the desk, as if suddenly too tired to stand. “I cannot imagine what he was about, hiding a small fortune in my office. It is a wonder, your grace, and I am grateful you were so clever as to figure it out now. I keep imagining how horrifying it would have been if in a few days I emptied the vase myself and discovered them.”
She spoke with gushing admiration, not only for Kesgrave’s ingenuity in identifying where the treasure was hidden but also for his shrewdness in recognizing a threat to her and taking steps to remove it. Hearing it, Bea grinned in delight, for far from bringing him low, she had raised him in his housekeeper’s esteem.
That she had managed to further establish her husband with his own staff was an irony not lost on her.
Bea finished her count at thirty-seven while the duke poured the water from the glasses back into the small vase against Mrs. Wallace’s protest that she would be happy to do that.
“Nonsense,” he said, returning the tidy bouquet to the vessel, “it is done.”
Mrs. Wallace thanked him with a hint of worship in her tone, and Bea perceived again the great advantage of being a duke, for performing even the most insignificant task was seen as a tremendous accomplishment. She herself had arranged hundreds, if not thousands, of flowers in vases and had never once got so much as a grateful smile from her family.
Bea gathered the guineas into a neat pile, and Mrs. Wallace, as if suddenly recalling her presence, insisted on getting a small bag so the duke may carry them easily. She refused to listen to his contention that he could simply slide the coins into his pockets.
“And ruin the impeccable line of your coat, your grace?” she scoffed dismissively as she darted into the other room. A moment later she reappeared with an olive-green purse. “I am sure such an extreme sacrifice is not required.”
She held the small bag open as Bea scooped the coins inside.
“Ah, that is perfect,” Kesgrave said, nodding with approval.
“Yes, thank you,” Bea said as she tugged the two pink ribbons to close the purse. “We are very grateful for your help.”
Indeed, what Bea was truly grateful for was the housekeeper’s pragmaticism. With her sensible outlook, the only mortifying thing about the exchange was her adoration of her employer, a discovery Bea wasted no time in mentioning to Kesgrave.
“I cannot imagine why that is a revelation to you,” he observed, following her into the drawing room to discuss the next phase of their investigation. He closed the door and joined her on the settee. “I have repeatedly explained how scrupulously I follow their rules. All you have to do to earn the esteem of the staff is allow them to go about their business with no interference. It’s really very simple, Bea, and hardly requires the effort of solving a
