Page 56 of Miss Dramatic
“What on earth would they condemn me for?”
“Immediately following our Derbyshire engagement, you took a notion to decamp. I was adding repertoire, shifting parts, and varying our route all to accommodate your whims, and yet, you turned your back on that opportunity. Why? Because you stole the funds I was paid at that house party, and you stole a certain necklace sitting in the same vicinity. That’s why you quit Drysdale’s Players for no apparent reason. Admit it, DeWitt. There is no other reason for your sudden departure.”
A broken heart was a reason—and none of Drysdale’s bloody business. “I stole nothing, and I had no need of stolen funds. I have no motive, the entire troupe had the same access to these alleged treasures as I did, andyouare always in need of coin.”
Drysdale clearly hadn’t expected a logical challenge to his accusations. He stalked off, pivoted, and would likely have shaken his fist at the sky—one of his favorite bits of stage business—had an audience been present.
“You wealthy young wastrels will commit felonies for a lark.” He marched back, stopping just out of pummeling range. “Half this village will attest to the difficulties your womenfolk were in as a result of your thespian adventures. For all the world knows, youdidneed coin, and you should not have repaid my generosity with betrayal.”
Drysdale’s accusations raised myriad questions. Where had this necklace come from, if it even existed? Had the coins nestled in Gavin’s cravat been the missing sum? If larceny had been committed, who was at fault? What could Rose add to Gavin’s meager recollections of the other house-party guests?
At the moment, none of that mattered. “You expect me to repay the missing money? Am I also to compensate you for this mythical necklace?”
“You are to return the necklace, you dolt. A piece like that is priceless, and I would not accept the money without the necklace, in any case.”
“How can I return a necklace I’ve never seen?”
“If you can’t recall the sight of a rope of rubies set in gold, you are blind as well as arrogant.”
“Sorry. We don’t see much in the ruby line here in Crosspatch Corners. If you can prove I owe you money, I will happily repay a reasonable sum, but I left your troupe without collecting the wages due me, and I gave you three weeks’ notice so you could shift any needed rehearsals. I will consider this distasteful topic closed.”
“No, you will not.” Drysdale took a step closer, then apparently thought better of increasing his proximity. “Between Gemma and me, we can manufacture enough testimony to see you transported at least. If that doesn’t get your attention, then consider the damage I can do to your sisters’ prospects when I pass through my London haunts. A word or two about mental instability in the DeWitt lineage, weak charactereven for an actor, and recent financial difficulties will work wonders.”
Gavin’s fist in Drysdale’s paunch would work wonders too. “My brother-by-marriage is amarquess, Drysdale. Do you really believe spreading rumors backstage at third-rate houses will be sufficient to counter his influence?”
“Most certainly. Tavistock will take your part out of loyalty and because he sympathizes with a man who’s short of coin. If you doubt I can affect your sisters’ prospects, and you’re happy to risk a trip to the Antipodes—or the gallows—then at least have a care for Mrs. Roberts’s reputation.”
A fist to the gut was too good for such a scoundrel. “Mrs. Roberts is well above reproach in all particulars and has no part in your schemes. Why even mention her?”
“She wanted no parts of you by the time we left Derbyshire. Perhaps you stole more from her than her trust and her time? Maybe she simply tired of your charms and is ready to work her wiles on the next unsuspecting bachelor. Widowhood can turn some women up so wonderfully frisky, but Society expects discretion from those ladies all the same.”
The roar of the river blended with a roar building in Gavin’s soul—of outrage, determination, and disgust. He instead drew upon the civility that a budding respected squire should be able to muster in all circumstances.
He bowed politely. “If you’ve finished reciting your lines in this farce, I’ll be on my way. I know of no missing necklace. I stole nothing from you or from anybody else. I wish you the best of luck with the remainder of your engagement at Miller’s Lament.”
Petty tactics, to break the taboo about wishing an actor luck with a performance, but satisfying. Gavin strolled off, intent on taking the side path that led to Twidboro Hall.
“I’ll give you one week, DeWitt,” Drysdale called. “If you have to retrieve the damned jewels from London, that should be sufficient time, but don’t try my patience any further. When I mutter to my London confreres about your light fingers and the poor character of the women you pursue, my animosity will be unquestionably sincere.”
Gavin ambled along until he reached the turnoff to Twidboro Hall. From the tail of his eye, he saw Drysdale thirty yards up the path, gazing at the river and affecting the pose of the sad contemplative.
What bloody necklace was he pondering—if such jewelry even existed—and who was the true thief?
One thought swam to the surface of the miasma of dread and rage in Gavin’s mind: Rose could not be associated with any of this and most especially not with Gavin himself. Not until the whole sorry business was resolved.
ChapterThirteen
“You barely spoke to Mrs. Roberts at luncheon.” Diana leveled her accusation at her favorite brother in the whole world, who was also, at the moment, her unfavorite brother in the whole universe.
“You hurt her feelings,” Caroline said, unnecessarily, but Caro was tenderhearted and had caught on to Gavin’s odd behavior before Diana had.
Gavin came around the billiards table and pretended to study the rack of cue sticks. He’d taught them both how to play, and many a winter afternoon had been less boring as a result. Even Lissa and Mama had occasionally taken turns.
“This is what you dragged me up here to discuss? My deportment? I am one of a handful of men participating in this inane gathering. As much as I esteem Mrs. Roberts—very much—I cannot become her personal escort. If you’ll excuse me, I am due to meet with the steward at the Arms. Roland and I will go for our hack thereafter, and I will see you at supper.”
“You are always meeting with the steward,” Diana countered. “Lissa convened with him regularly, too, but she didn’t hare off to the Arms to do it.”
Gavin snatched a cue stick and arranged the three balls on the table—white, red, and spot. “I am not haring off.”
