On A Wicked Dawn (49 page)

Luc nodded. “And not just talk.” He met Lucifer's blue gaze, almost as dark as his own. “We need to come up with a plan.”

By general consensus, they waited until Emily, Anne, Portia, Penelope, and Miss Pink retired at the end of the evening before broaching the topic uppermost in all their minds.

Helena held up a hand the instant the door closed behind Miss Pink. “You must start at the beginning, if you please. There is no point rambling about any bushes with such a matter, not when we are all family.”

Luc, Amelia, Lucifer, and Phyllida exchanged glances, then Luc complied. He sketched the known actions of the thief within the
ton
, then Lucifer and Amelia described the pieces of the puzzle they'd stumbled across.

Standing before the hearth, Luc concluded, “We do not at present have any idea who the thief is. However, whether by design or sheer coincidence, his activities are making it appear that the culprit is . . .” He paused, then, face hardening, went on, “One of us. One of the Ashfords.”

Helena, more serious, more disapproving than Amelia had ever seen her, nodded decisively. “Yes. It will be said it is one of your sisters. But as we have seen today, that is quite impossible.”

Luc studied her, then asked, “Why do you say it's impossible?”

Helena stared at him, then blinked. “Ah, I see—you wish me to state it. Very well. It is impossible that Emily or Anne could be the one who has taken the General's thimble because both are
jeunes filles ingénues
—they are not capable of dissembling to hide such a thing, not before me, and Louise and all here. This is not credible. Also, Amelia has said they did not know anything about the quizzing glass. It must be, I think, Lord Witherley's—I will look at it later. But again, neither their actions nor Amelia's reading of them supports the idea of either being involved. So they are not.”

Helena's expression grew somber. “But that means we must find who is, and soon, for both Emily and Anne are . . . susceptible. Their lives can be ruined by suspicion and rumor, if those are allowed to run amok.”

Luc inclined his head. “Thank you. I agree. That is the situation in a nutshell.”

Martin, seated in an armchair, Amanda perched on its arm, looked at Luc. “Do we know of anyone who would wish to harm the Ashfords?”

Luc met his gaze; Amelia watched the cousins' silent exchange, but it was Minerva who sighed, and said, “There's Edward, of course.”

Everyone looked at her, but it was Luc whose gaze she met. “Neither you nor I ever managed to understand him. Given what he's done in the past, how can we say he wouldn't do this—even this—too?”

Luc grimaced and looked at Martin. “It won't, however, be Edward himself.”

Martin nodded. “An agent, or agents. We all know it could be done.”

“Except,” Amelia put in, “Edward doesn't have much money—not enough to pay agents.” She looked at Luc. “Does he?”

“He has his allowance, but I doubt it'd stretch that far.”

“Actually, that would fit nicely.” Lucifer stretched out his long legs, crossing his ankles. “Edward could simply suggest where these friends of his could pick up little items, and in doing so make him happy, too. Of course, that does presuppose
Edward has those sorts of friends, and moreover, that they would be willing to consider his wishes.”

Luc shook his head. “We were never close—indeed, we'd been deliberately distant for more than a decade. I've no idea of Edward's associates.”

Lucifer grimaced. “If he is behind this, he'll be counting on that.”

Amelia didn't care who was behind the plot as long as it was ended. “Regardless, we have to expose the thief who's here, on the ground, soon. We can't let things go until the rumors build and people start pointing fingers. The one most likely to be suspected is Anne, and”—her gaze sweeping the circle of faces, she saw comprehension and agreement—“we can't let that happen.”

Arthur, sitting back, calmly watching, stated, “We need a plan—one to flush the thief out.”

Martin leaned forward. “We need to strike now, before he gets any inkling we might be after him.”

Luc met his gaze, nodded. “So—how do we catch a thief?”

“That,” Helena declared, “is simple.” When they all turned her way, she raised her brows. “We dangle before his covetous eyes something he will not be able to resist stealing.”

“A trap?” Luc considered, then asked, “Baited with what?”

Helena calmly answered, “With my pearls and emeralds, of course.”

The suggestion caused an uproar. Lucifer and Arthur forcefully declared using the Cynster necklace was out of the question.

Helena silenced them with a long, steady look from her pale green eyes. When all was again quiet, she evenly stated, “The necklace is mine to do with as I please—Sebastian gave it to me all those years ago, and there never were any strings attached to it. There is nothing you can possibly suggest that would be more appealing to a thief. I agree that the necklace is now also a family piece, but as such, it is there, to my thinking, not just as a form of wealth, but to be used as
need be for the family. This is one such occasion, when such a thing needs to be used.” Her gaze swept the company, then returned to rest on Lucifer and Arthur. “It is my decision that it should be.”

Her tone reminded everyone that despite the fact Sebastian, her husband, Devil's father, was long gone, a great deal of power still remained at Helena's back. She was the Cynster matriarch; ultimately, none had the power to gainsay her.

Amelia noted that her mother, Phyllida—all the women—were, at least figuratively, squarely ranged behind Helena. She had taken a stand—declared what should be done; it was now up to the men to handle the rest.

Luc broke the ensuing silence. “Assuming we decide to bait a trap, how, exactly, are we to construct it?”

Lucifer reluctantly growled, “We need some event—some occasion—that will appear to the thief to leave the door open.”

“If we're going to use that necklace, or something of the sort,” Martin smoothly said, “we need to alert the thief to the possibilities, then lure him into a situation where we can catch him.”

“You need the bait and the trap,” Arthur said. “You need to prime the trap, and then spring it.”

Luc looked at them all. “So what's our trap?”

The discussions, suggestions, and arguments lasted for more than an hour. Amelia ordered the tea trolley replenished; Luc had the decanters brought in. They sat and argued, tossed ideas in, tossed them out. It was Minerva who finally suggested, “We could have an open house of some sort.”

Amelia blinked. “I've only recently joined the family—all the rest of you are here visiting . . .” She glanced at Luc. “We could host a celebration of some sort, one for all the surrounding families.”

“And your tenants and the villagers,” Phyllida put in. “That way, anyone could attend.”

“If you're determined to use the necklace,” Lucifer said, his tone underscoring his disapproval and his resignation,
“then it'll have to be an evening event—you couldn't wear that necklace during the day without being too obvious.”

Helena inclined her head. “That is true.”

“A Summer Ball and Gala,” Amelia said. “There's no reason we can't organize something like that quickly—an impulsive decision, an impromptu event. Nothing suspicious about that. The weather's been glorious, you're all here visiting, so we decide to take advantage and host a ball for the neighborhood. To include everyone, we'll make it a whole evening, with the gardens open for dancing and fireworks, so there'll be plenty of opportunity for the thief to see the necklace.”

Everyone thought; everyone nodded.

“All right,” Luc said. “Now for the details.” He fixed Helena with an even glance. “How do you imagine it will be?”

She smiled, and told him. Despite Lucifer's growls, and Simon's, Luc's and Martin's frowns, everyone eventually agreed. Throughout the early evening, before the ball, Helena, flaunting the necklace, would move among the assembled tenants, villagers, and neighbors. At all times, she would be flanked by two of the other ladies, a normal enough situation; from a distance, at least two of the men would be watching her constantly.

Then, just before the ball was due to commence, Luc and Helena would meet on the terrace. Luc would comment on the necklace, suggesting the Dowager hand it to him after the ball for safekeeping—a suggestion Helena would openly dismiss, declaring it would be safe in her room.

“We can organize the fireworks to be lit then, so everyone will gather on the terrace and steps. That way, many people will be near enough to hear.” Amelia looked at Luc, who nodded.

“In the circumstances, I can appear to feel moved to speak, even surrounded by a crowd.” He glanced at Helena. “If I understand this correctly, the necklace in question is of that ilk?”

Lucifer snorted. “Believe it. Three long strands of priceless matched pearls broken by three rectangular emeralds.
Plus matching bracelets and earrings.” He glowered at Helena, then grimaced. “Much as it pains me to admit, it's the perfect bait for this thief. Whoever they are, they've a nice eye for valuables, and that set can be broken up and restrung so easily, it would be child's play to do so and sell what would then be unidentifiable new necklaces. The emeralds, too, although distinctive, could easily be reset.”

Luc's expression turned grim. “Definitely the sort of thing I would insist on having in safekeeping.”

Helena waved aside the caveat. “Do not fear. By the time I am finished dismissing your so-kind insistence, everyone will know that the necklace will remain for that night in my room.”

“I still don't like that.” The objection came from Simon, standing, one broad shoulder propped against the end of the mantelpiece. He frowned at Helena. “It's so risky. What if they harm you?”

Helena's smile turned gentle but did not disguise her steel. “There will be no risk to me. The necklace will be strewn on the table in the middle of the room—just where a lady such as myself, careless with her wealth, might leave it. No thief is going to spare a moment to harm a small and frail old woman such as I. I will pose no threat to him.”

“Just to be clear on that issue”—Arthur had been following her dissertation closely—“will you promise—in order to ease our no doubt irrational male fears—that you will not yourself in any way try to apprehend this thief?”

Helena met his gaze, then laughed. “Very well,
mon ami
—I will promise you that. I will do nothing but watch—it will be up to you all”—she waved at the men—“to catch this thief before he absconds with my treasure.”

“And if we don't,” Lucifer grumbled, “we'll never hear the end of it.”

The clocks struck midnight. Helena rose; the other ladies followed, deeming their planning done. As she swept past Lucifer's chair, Helena patted his dark head. “I have every confidence in you all,
mes enfants
.”

Lucifer, who when standing towered over Helena, as did every man in the room, looked thoroughly disgruntled.

By noon the next day, all the married men had accepted that shifting their ladies from Helena's plan was beyond their capabilities.

“We're going to have to cover every possible approach to the house.” Luc looked down at the plan of the house he'd unrolled on his desk. Lucifer and Martin flanked him, likewise poring over the diagram.

Simon stood opposite, his gaze flicking from the plan to their faces, then back again. “There's really no other choice?”

“None.” Lucifer replied without even looking up. “Take it from us—further argument is wasted effort.”

Arthur strolled up. He glanced at the plan, then sighed. “I really hate to leave at such a moment, but those negotiations will not wait.”

Lucifer, Luc, and Martin all looked at him.

“Don't worry,” Luc said.

“We'll manage,” came from Lucifer.

“Especially given you got her promise not to tackle the thief herself.” Martin grinned. “You've done your bit—you can leave the rest to us.”

Arthur looked at them, then nodded. “Very well—but send word to Devil if you do need help.”

They nodded.

Arthur pulled out his watch, checked the time. “Well, I'd best go and see if Louise is ready to depart. We were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago.”

He left them studying the house plan.

In the front hall, he came upon a scene of frenetic energy with maids and footmen dashing this way and that, streaming about the ladies gathered in the hall's center.

Louise saw him. “There you are. We've been waiting for you.”

Arthur simply smiled.

Minerva, Emily, and Anne farewelled him with wishes for a speedy and safe journey.