Chapter 11
Friday
Hatton Garden, London
Clara plopped down on a chair in the servants’ hall, happy to finish early tonight.
The comte and his sister were attending a social event, so supper would be for the staff only.
She was pleased with her dishes so far and had been called up twice and complimented.
After receiving permission from Henri, she had shared the soufflé recipe with Lady Moorsy.
“It will be nice having an evening to ourselves,” said Mr. Smalley as he sat down beside her at the table. “I’m hungry enough to eat that little scullery maid.”
A squeak came from the doorway of the scullery, and the butler laughed. “Just teasing.”
Mrs. Johnson came in. “The housemaid is almost finished with her lady’s maid duties. Mr. Smalley, could you be persuaded to bring us an open bottle to finish with dinner?”
“Sounds like a grand plan,” he agreed and left for the butler’s pantry. “I’ll meet you in the servants’ hall.” On occasion, when Mr. Smalley worried wine might go bad, he would share the remains of a corked bottle with the housekeeper and cook.
They ate together, having fed the lesser servants earlier. The conversation came around to their employers.
Mrs. Johnson waved her fork as she spoke, “Does it seem odd that their only guests are widows and spinsters?”
“There was a son who came along once,” reminded Mr. Smalley. “I think his lordship is looking for a rich wife.”
Clara snorted. “His sister would have to give up her imaginary throne.”
“I did hear something about charity donations the other night,” said Mr. Smalley.
“Maybe it’s easier to get coin from the older ladies without husbands to convince.
The beggars from the war and poor orphans may not elicit the same sympathy from a husband.
And what else do they have to spend their money on? ”
That made sense to Clara. “Where did they go tonight?”
“A ball given by the Langstins.” The Marquess of Langstin was well-known for his dances. “They won’t be back till late. Is your beau coming tonight?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, trying not to smile at the term “beau.”
“How are you, my dear?” asked Mrs. Johnson. The housekeeper had heard Clara crying several nights when she’d first moved into the cook’s quarters.
“Fine,” she said quickly, knowing the question pertained to her missing father. “We must all continue to live, right? Tomorrow is another day, and being Friday-faced won’t change him being gone.”
“Good attitude,” said Mr. Smalley. “Smart girl.”
***
On Sunday, Elijah brought Clara home for dinner. She enjoyed these Sunday outings and hoped they would continue. Mrs. Norton was so very nice, and being fussed over filled Clara with a warm, happy feeling.
But Elijah was acting strange tonight. “Something on your mind?” she asked.
The hackney came to a sudden stop, throwing them both forward, heads almost bumping. He grabbed her hand. “I must tell you something. If you wish to return home afterwards, I will understand.”
The words came in a rush, and Clara realized he’d been holding this in, fearful of telling her the truth.
But his story made sense. Her father had said he worked for a villain and committed horrible acts for the man.
But it was even worse than what she’d thought.
While neither of them knew to what extent Pa was implicated, it was horrid enough to put others in danger. Murders had occurred.
Clara blinked back tears. “But we don’t know for sure what my father has done?”
Elijah shook his head. “Or what he witnessed. I worry you may be in peril.”
The relief on his face warmed her despite the news. He had been truthful when it would have been easier to be silent. That was the kind of man he was. Elijah Norton would never lie to her.
“I’m not worried with you watching over me,” she said, moving beside him and kissing his cheek to reassure him. Had he thought she would be angry with him, the bearer of bad news? “Thank you for telling me. It must have been difficult keeping it to yourself and deciding how to break it to me.”
“I was afraid you might resent me… my role as an investigator.”
“It’s better to hear it from you than a stranger at my door or reading it in the newspaper.” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder without thinking, absorbing his warmth and strength. “Sad and worried for my father, of course. But not angry with you.”
She gave him a small smile when he let out a loud breath. Clara decided to think about it later when she was alone. It would do no good to be Friday-faced in front of Mrs. Norton.
This evening, after a delicious dinner, they were gathered in the parlor. Elijah was stoking the fire, and Clara strolled the perimeter of the room. She stopped at the small writing table, studying the sketches of jewelry. Although he’d told her of his artistic goals, she had never seen his work.
“These have such detail. I could almost pick one up and put it on,” she said, smiling at him.
He joined her, moving the sheets around. “These are pieces that were stolen, leaving a replica left in its place.”
Clara gasped. “How terrible, but how clever. This is the case you were telling me about?” She picked up one of the images. “This is familiar. But I don’t know where I would see anyone dressed in such finery except—” She turned to Eli, her eyes wide.
“Except?” he asked.
“Comte du Aveculót’s sister. I saw her wearing this necklace when I was called to the dining room.” She began studying the rest of the images in earnest. “You must bring these to the townhouse. The staff may recognize more.”
***
Monday
Hatton Garden
Clara let Elijah into the kitchen, then asked the footman to inform Mr. Smalley and Mrs. Johnson that he was here.
It was between meals, and the French pair was out.
She helped Eli spread his sketches across the table, so they all could be easily seen.
They were illustrated with colored chalk, so the types of gems would be easily recognized.
The housemaid recognized a bracelet and necklace set. “I put that on her the other night when I helped her dress for the theater.”
Mr. Smalley identified a pair of cufflinks and a cravat pin. “I’ve been his valet since his arrival, along with my other duties. I helped him put those on when he was too foxed.”
Clara wanted to jump up and down. Had they solved the jewelry case?
“Are these stolen goods?” asked Mrs. Johnson.
“Yes, but I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“I knew there was something odd about them,” murmured the housemaid.
“I’m sorry,” said the footman, “but I don’t pay much attention to what they wear. Too fine for me. But I did hear something funny. Her ladyship was talking like an Englishwoman. I thought she was imitating one of their titled friends, so I never mentioned it.”
“Has anyone else heard them speak in something other than a French accent?”
The rest of the staff shook their heads.
Eli stood and collected the papers, then returned his notebook to his pocket. “You have all been very helpful. Now I must ask all of you not to say a word of this. If the comte and his sister find out we’re on to them, they will run out of London faster than a fox chased by a pack of hounds.”
They all agreed to stay quiet, but Clara hoped Elijah finished the case quickly. It would be hard to keep still for long.
Outside on the steps, Elijah wrapped his arms around her waist, his leather satchel smacking her bum. He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.
She shivered as his warm breath tickled her neck. He had such an effect on her. “That wasn’t a very enthusiastic thank you,” she said, peeking up at him through her lashes. “It seemed more like a that-was-a-nice-cup-of-tea thank you.”
He pulled her closer against his hard length, and she slid her arms around his neck. This time, his kiss was soft but demanding, his tongue begging entrance. Her mind went blank, only Eli and his touch, his lips, his hands mattered.
She was breathless when he ended the kiss, and she looked up at him, dazed. “Much better,” she croaked.
“I aim to please,” he said with a wink. “Your help has been essential in breaking this case. Now, I must decide how to proceed. There is no proof they were at the different jewelry shops. This is why I need your friends to stay quiet. There will be no case for the magistrate if I don’t have the proof to back up the claim.
They could insist they bought those pieces from someone else. ”
“I have something to ask you,” he said, his knuckle trailing down her cheek.
Clara leaned into his hand, appreciating the tumult in her belly now that she understood what it was. “When will I see you again?”
“That depends. I’d like to take you to the O’Briens’ house for Sunday dinner next week. But I may see you sooner because of the investigation.”
The O’Briens? For the monthly Sunday dinner? Panic slapped her in the face. If the O’Briens didn’t like her, where would that leave her and Eli?
Breathe, just breathe.
Why wouldn’t they like her? Because it was so very, very important to her that they do. Eli might not continue to see her if his family took a dislike to her.
Stop it!
He leaned back, eyes narrowed as his gaze locked with hers. “Is it too soon?”
Her heart lurched. “No! I mean, I just…”
He tipped her chin up with a finger and thumb. “Are you nervous?”
Clara nodded. “What if I make a bad impression? What if they don’t like me?”
He laughed, a deep sensual sound. “Of course they will love you. If you make me happy, they will be happy. A more welcoming family you’ll never meet. I should warn you, however, the O’Brien clan can be… overwhelming.”
“Because there are so many of them?” she asked, wondering what such a hectic household would be like.
“And loud. We tend to talk over each other, and when we are all together, it’s a sweet, wonderful chaos.
” Elijah kissed her nose, then her eyes, then her mouth.
“This may be too soon, but since I’m already in up to my knees…
” He kissed her again, then touched his forehead to hers. “I think I love you, Ruby.”
Her pulse roared in her ears, her mouth went dry, and her heart soared. “Me?”
He nodded. “I hope you are fond of me too.”
When Eli grinned at her, she thought her knees would buckle. His hazel eyes, so dark in the shadows of the stairwell, glittered as he kissed her just under one earlobe, then the other. “I-I think we may both be in the same boat.”
He kissed her mouth again. “I promise not to let it sink.”