To Love a Thief (2 page)

But that was then. Now she was safe and whole, even if Papa wasn’t.

Somehow, Jocelyn found the ability to speak calmly though her heart was racing. “What a lovely necklace. Wherever did you find such a treasure?”

The woman’s fingers came up to touch the pendant, and Jocelyn had to suppress the urge to snatch the piece from her neck. “My dear husband gave it to me. It’s quite special, isn’t it?”

Before Jocelyn could make further inquiries, the woman swept past her and exited the retiring room. Jocelyn whipped around and made for the door. It opened inward, causing Jocelyn to jump back to avoid being caught by the edge of the wood.

Two women, deep in tittering conversation, bustled in, forcing Jocelyn to step to the side before she was trampled. Invisible again.

As soon as the way was clear, she rushed into the corridor, but didn’t see the woman wearing her mother’s stolen necklace. She hurried back to the ballroom, desperate to find her. Once inside, she stopped short. Blast! There were so many people. And too many blue gowns. Jocelyn’s quarry wore a cerulean gown with ivory flounces at the hem.

Keeping her gaze moving over the crowd, Jocelyn made her way in the direction of Gertrude and her friends. With her attention so focused on her hunt, she failed to notice the foot she trod upon until it was too late to avoid.

“Pardon,” said a deep, male voice.

Jocelyn nearly stumbled, but a strong hand clasped her elbow and kept her from sprawling face-first in the middle of the ballroom. She regained her balance and turned toward the man she’d offended.

An exceptionally white cravat met her gaze. She looked up and up—he was quite a bit taller than she, an easy feat given her diminutive stature—and stopped when she met his dark blue-gray eyes. She’d expected to see annoyance and was surprised, for the second time that evening, when they crinkled in amusement.

“You look as if you’re on a mission. May I be of service?” He offered his arm.

Jocelyn stared at his sleeve as she tried to pull her thoughts from finding the woman in her mother’s pendant and refocus them on the first gentleman she’d met in two years.

He leaned down slightly and whispered, “Please take it lest someone think I’m waiting for a bird to land.”

Unused to a gentleman’s attention, let alone one with a sense of humor, she arched a brow at him. Then she quickly wrapped her hand along his forearm. “We wouldn’t want that,” she murmured.

“Now, where may I escort you?” In addition to being tall, he was quite handsome, with broad cheekbones and a wide chin with a small cleft in the center. “Or, shall I be lucky enough to secure a dance?”

A dance? The first dance she’d been offered in two years and she said, “No, thank you, I need to find someone.” The flicker of disappointment in his gaze made her rush to add, “I should be delighted to dance with you after I find…” Her brain stalled a moment as she tried to think of something to say other than “the woman who stole my mother’s necklace.” “My friend, Mrs. Harwood. I am just returned from the retiring room and want to ensure she doesn’t worry after my absence.”

He inclined his head, which was covered in thick dark hair cut a trifle shorter than was fashionable. It suited him. “Just tell me where to go so we may reassure your Mrs. Harwood, and then we’ll have our dance.”

Drat
. Or maybe not. She could use the opportunity of their dance to locate the woman in the blue gown without wandering the room alone. And, oh, to dance again! “Just over there, near the corner,” she said.

He guided her through the throng. “I realize we haven’t been properly introduced, but I’ll accept your assault on my toes as an adequate reason to dodge propriety, if you don’t object?”

The whole was said with such wit that she smiled in spite of her anxiety over seeing her mother’s pendant. “I can’t possibly object to that. Thank you for your generous consideration, sir.”

“Lord Carlyle at your service,” he intoned deeply with a nod of his head that was surely meant to take the place of a bow, which he couldn’t possibly execute during their cross-ballroom circuit.

Lord Carlyle … Jocelyn searched her memory for the name from her Season. She hadn’t heard of him at all, which wasn’t surprising. She’d attended only a half-dozen social events before her world had turned upside down.

“I’m Miss Renwick,” she said, dipping her knees as they walked, in a sort of awkward, mobile curtsey. Perhaps she should have just inclined her head, too.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His voice was deep and a bit raw. That is, his tone was not the same as other gentlemen she’d met in Society. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Lord Carlyle was somehow different. He even looked different. Oh, his cravat was perfectly tied, but there were no jewels sparkling from the folds, no ring adorning either hand, and no watch fob to spark conversation. An image of the fob Mama had given Papa as a wedding gift flashed in her mind. It, too, had been stolen.

Remembering her mission, as Lord Carlyle had called it, she glanced about for the woman in the blue dress. Where had she gone?

They broke free of the crowd as they came to the less-populated corner of the cavernous ballroom. A handful of potted trees were clustered like a makeshift forest, in which Gertrude and her friends were gathered.

Gertrude’s head bobbed up and down. Her body sometimes succumbed to fits of shakiness due to her age. “Ah, there you are, dear. And you’ve brought a friend.” She cast an approving glance and then offered her hand to Lord Carlyle.

Jocelyn released Carlyle’s arm. “Lord Carlyle, this is Mrs. Harwood.”

He executed an immaculate but somewhat stiff bow, one that looked as if he’d practiced it to perfection. There was definitely something different about Lord Carlyle. “Good evening, Mrs. Harwood.”

Gertrude tittered. “Good evening, my lord. So charming! You
must
dance with Jocelyn!”

He cast a smile in Jocelyn’s direction. “I plan to, ma’am.”

Gertrude, and indeed all of her friends, sent congratulatory looks at Jocelyn. Just then, Jocelyn caught the sweep of a vivid blue skirt to her left. She turned her head and saw the woman wearing her mother’s necklace approaching the terrace.

She pivoted toward Carlyle and smiled up at him. “I believe I’d like a bit of air first. My lord, would you mind taking me for a turn on the terrace?”

“Not at all.” He looked to Gertrude and when she nodded her approval, he offered his arm again.

Jocelyn strolled with him to the terrace, her feet moving perhaps a bit too quickly in her haste.

“In a hurry?” he asked.

“Sorry, I’m so short, I’m used to walking rapidly to keep up.” It was the truth, but also provided a convenient excuse.

They stepped out onto the terrace. A few couples were enjoying the warm May air, including the woman in blue. Her companion turned at that moment, and his gaze fell on Carlyle. “Carlyle!” he called jovially. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Jocelyn slid a glance at her escort. He knew those people?

Carlyle led her to the couple and performed another exemplary bow. “Lady Aldridge, you look lovely this evening.”

She smiled at him and lifted a coy shoulder, which sent her dark ringlets swinging against her neck. “Carlyle, you are too kind. But then that’s one of the reasons Aldridge and I adore you so.”

Lady Aldridge squeezed the man’s arm as she said the name, which meant he must be her husband. But he was at least two decades older than Lady Aldridge, who couldn’t be more than a few years Jocelyn’s senior. Indeed, at first glance, the man appeared to be Lady Aldridge’s father.

“Lord and Lady Aldridge, allow me to present Miss Renwick. Miss Renwick, this is Lord and Lady Aldridge.”

He
did
know them. Her estimation of Lord Carlyle dipped. Although she didn’t know the circumstances behind Lady Aldridge’s possession of her mother’s necklace, Jocelyn couldn’t help the outrage that washed over her every time she looked at the ivory pendant. She forced herself to relax and be rational. It wasn’t Lord Carlyle’s fault he was acquainted with people who were inexplicably in possession of stolen goods.

Lady Aldridge smiled, revealing even, white teeth and a dimple in her right cheek. She was very lovely. “Miss Renwick, how nice to make your acquaintance. Carlyle, I do believe you promised me a dance tonight, and I hear a new set starting.”

Carlyle flicked a glance at Jocelyn, clearly looking for a way to claim their dance instead, but Jocelyn wanted the opportunity to question Lord Aldridge about her necklace.

She gave him a reassuring nod. “Go ahead. We’ll dance the next.”

Lady Aldridge’s brow puckered as she turned her gaze to Jocelyn. “Truly, you don’t mind? I haven’t danced at all this evening. Aldridge’s knees are paining him, you see.”

Jocelyn hadn’t danced in two years, but she bit back an unladylike retort and nodded her approval instead. “It’s quite all right.” She removed her hand from Lord Carlyle, who gave her another splendid bow and then led Lady Aldridge into the ballroom.

Armed with the wrath of the righteous, Jocelyn turned to face Lord Aldridge. Possessed of a light complexion and thinning gray hair, he was broad-shouldered and tall. But then everyone was tall to her.

She wasted no time launching her interrogation. “I encountered Lady Aldridge a few minutes ago and complimented her necklace. It’s so unique. She said it was a gift from you. Do you mind telling me how you obtained it?”

He glanced to his left, toward the ballroom, before piercing her with an arrogant stare. “It’s been in my family for generations.”

Of all the pompous liars! Her heart thumped an erratic rhythm. “Indeed? It’s exactly like a necklace that was stolen from my family two years ago.
Exactly
. Right down to the scratch in the glass. Are you quite certain of its origin?”

Aldridge glanced back toward the ballroom and then over his shoulder, as if ensuring no one could hear them. Then he stepped closer and spoke softly, but his eyes glinted dangerously. “You’re mistaken, my dear. It’s a family heirloom. I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sure your necklace is somehow similar. Lady Aldridge’s pendant, however, is not the same one.” His tone was so patronizing, so
superior
, Jocelyn could only stare at him.

He started to move past her, but she did the unthinkable and grabbed his elbow. He turned a surprised glare on her. “I beg your pardon, Miss Renwick.”

She let go of his sleeve, a bit shocked by her own cheek, but she was desperate. It simply wasn’t possible the pendant had been in
his
family, not when she’d worn it at her very first ball! “My apologies. However, you must understand how important this is to me. Is there any chance you purchased the necklace? Perhaps you’ve confused it with another piece?”

Aldridge’s face reddened, and his forehead took on a sheen of perspiration. “I said you were mistaken, young lady. Do cease your impertinent questions.”

His reaction told her far more than his words. He didn’t like her inquiry at all and was discomfitted by it. Why? “My lord, I don’t believe my questions are impertinent. Several valuable pieces of heirloom jewelry were stolen from my family two years ago. I merely wondered if you had perhaps purchased stolen property—unknowingly of course.” She added the last when the flesh around his mouth paled.

“I assure you, Miss Renwick, I haven’t purchased any stolen property—unknowingly or otherwise. Do you have any idea who I am?” He moved closer to her, which only served to make him tower over her like an ancient oak.

She squeezed her hands into tiny fists. He clearly believed her vulnerable to intimidation given her stature, but it was precisely because of her smallness that she refused to be bullied. “I’m afraid I’ve only just met you, my lord, so you must forgive my ignorance. I believed you to be the gentleman in possession of my late mother’s necklace.”

That did it. His nostrils flared and his lip curled. Fury rolled off him in waves. “I am not to be trifled with, gel. I do not take your insinuations kindly and advise you to desist any further pursuit of this topic.”

And then he marched into the ballroom without a backward glance, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief from his pocket as he went.

Well, that had gone rather poorly. Jocelyn frowned after his retreating figure. She was as certain Lady Aldridge was wearing her mother’s pendant as Lord Aldridge was that Jocelyn was mistaken. Was it possible he’d purchased a stolen item and was now too embarrassed to admit it? Perhaps, but he hadn’t seemed embarrassed. He’d seemed furious and guilty, as if she’d caught him red-handed.

Jocelyn allowed the cool night breeze to soothe her temper. At length, she returned to the corner of the ballroom Gertrude and her friends still inhabited.

“There you are,” Gertrude said, her gaze searching the space around Jocelyn. “But where’s Lord Carlyle?”

Jocelyn inclined her head toward the dance floor. “Dancing.”

Gertrude’s mouth dipped in disappointment. “I thought he was going to dance with you.” Her gaze traveled past Jocelyn’s shoulder, and her lips curved up. “The set is just ending. He’s coming this way! Stand up straight, dear. Smile!” Gertrude assembled her expression into something a bit more sedate, but her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Jocelyn faced the dance floor, and indeed, Lord Carlyle was walking toward them. While she’d dearly love a dance, she wasn’t sure she wanted to partner with someone who was on such friendly terms with the perfidious Lord Aldridge.

Carlyle arrived and gave a bow to Gertrude and her friends, who were lingering in the background. Then he directed the full intensity of his eyes upon her. And yes, intensity was the right word, for Lord Carlyle could probably look a hole clean through a person. Indeed, perhaps he could see through Aldridge’s lies. “Are you still amenable for our dance?” he asked.

Her stomach gave a little flutter as she contemplated what else Carlyle might be able to see. “Yes.” The acceptance slid from her lips before her brain had made up its mind. As they walked toward the dance floor, the strains of a waltz began, and Jocelyn was glad she’d agreed.