“Miss Rowe?” Knocking accompanied Miss Webb’s tentative question.
Helena turned with a squeak and darted across the room, calling, “I’ll just be a moment.”
She snatched her slippers from beside the door, stuck two fobs in the toe of one shoe and the last chain in the other, then shoved her feet into the slippers. Grunting, she wrestled the chair away from the door, dropping the necklace in her hurry and issuing a low curse.
“Do you need any assistance?” Miss Webb asked, concern filling her query.
Helena yanked open the door, hoping her manic appearance wouldn’t further worry Miss Webb, and forced a smile. “Everything is fine. While in the library, I realized I hadn’t verified if I was missing anything.”
A frown carved its way across Miss Webb’s forehead. “Are you?”
“I am not,” she replied and leaned over, plucking her mother’s necklace from the floor. “I was most apprehensive regarding this.”
“That’s beautiful,” Miss Webb breathed, bending over Helena’s hand and inspecting the necklace. “Did the piece belong to your mother?”
“It did.” Helena blinked rapidly, fighting the tears that gathered whenever she thought of her mother’s sudden death.
“You should wear it this morning.”
“The necklace is too extravagant for everyday.”
“Nonsense.” Miss Webb waved off Helena’s argument, indicating she should spin around.
“Do they have any suspects?” Helena dug the toe of her left slipper into the floor, attempting to shift the position of the fob.
Miss Webb’s fingers stilled. “The Duke of Mansfield suggested that the lady must have attended last night’s function and overheard the wager you made with the Duke of Lennox.”
“How would the thief know if he won the bet?” Helena asked in a flat tone. “Only Miss Philbert is missing from those of us who witnessed the Duke of Lennox’s triumph.”
“Winifred asked that very same question,” Miss Webb said, fiddling with the necklace clasp. “The Duke of Warwick provided a simple and quite alarming answer.”
Eyes widening, Helena spun around and grabbed Miss Webb’s wrists. “Which was?”
“She waited outside, watching, and when no one else departed after Miss Philbert and the Duke of Grisham, the thief deduced the Duke of Lennox had bested you.” Miss Webb drew her hands from Helena’s grip. “I fear the Duke of Warwick’s theory is correct.”
“We cannot accuse every lady who attended last night.” Helena’s hand moved to her throat, her fingers brushing over the stones—an automatic habit developed from the fear of losing the necklace.
“Very true.” Miss Webb touched the tip of her finger to her lips. “I suppose we’ll have to steal all their shoes.”
Helena laughed, the iron corset crushing her lungs easing a tiny fraction.
“Come, Miss Rowe,” Miss Webb said, looping her arm through Helena’s. “A comparison must be made between the footprint and your slipper so we may discount you as a suspect.”
Or she would be arrested, placed in manacles, paraded down the street, and imprisoned for stealing from a duke—three dukes. Even with over one hundred miles between them, Humphrey still managed to cause destruction… just as he promised he would should she refuse him.
Gulping, Helena nodded, allowing Miss Webb to drag her numb body from the room. Each step closer to the library brought renewed dread. Halfway down the staircase, Miss Webb paused, stopping Helena from descending.
“Did you hear that?” Miss Webb asked, her face scrunching into a frown as she listened to the silence.
Helena strained her ears. “I can hear our guests conversing in the library, but I cannot make out the words.”
“No, not them.” Miss Webb gazed into the distance, her unfocused eyes sliding over Helena. “The noise resembled metal, as though a small chain was clinking against something.”
Curling her toes around the gold fobs hidden in her shoes, Helena feigned listening. “I hear nothing.”
“Ah, well.” Miss Webb reset her hold on Helena’s arm. “Perhaps the excitement of the morning has me hearing apparitions.”
“Just as long as you don’t see Mr. Philbert’s ghost,” Helena replied, her mouth twitching.
