Page 47 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“No. He left quite suddenly and unexpectedly.”
“When was that?” Sterne watched him closely.
“Two days ago.”
“On the same day that Tensford arrived in Town? Do you think they are related?”
Sheffield blew out a column of smoke. “Yes, exactly then. And yes, I think they are related. Though it did surprise me. He is quite caught up with the mystery of your missing fossil fish, sir.”
“Perhaps because he doesn’t wish us to discover that he stole it,” Sterne commented sourly.
“Do you think that he took it, Sheffield?” Tensford asked.
“I rather thought the opposite—that he wished to find the person who took it. But he could have been dissembling, of course.”
“And we’re to believe that he ran back to Gloucestershire because he didn’t wish to run into Tensford?” Whiddon sounded skeptical.
“Oh, I don’t believe he went home. He won’t leave Town for a few more days, at least.”
“Not until after Rowland’s masquerade?” Sterne asked sharply.
Sheffield stopped mid-puff. “You know about that?”
“Yes, and about the much-anticipated revelation and the possible auction, as well.”
“Well, now.” Sheffield set his cigar aside. “That was the one thing Stillwater asked of me. He wanted me to get him an invitation to the evening.” He looked between them all. “I hadn’t planned on going to the affair, but now I think I must not miss it.”
“You don’t know where Stillwater is now?” Tensford asked.
“No. But I will send word if I find out.” He shook his head. “It’s a bad business. I’d be furious if I suffered such a loss. It makes me worry for my own collection.” He stood. “Speaking of which, I’d be happy to show you—”
“Thank you. Perhaps another time.” Tensford had stood as well.
Sterne ignored the niceties and stalked out, seething with frustration. He needed air and a moment to think. He let the other two tend to the leave taking and left, sending a footman scrambling to get the door ahead of him.
He strode out—and pulled up short.
Lady Tensford and Penelope stood near the gate . . . patently waiting.
He rather thought Penelope’s foot was tapping.
His heart beat erratically, as jumpy as a shying horse. He flushed so quickly and thoroughly that he felt the progress of it.
So damned lovely. It was what he’d said before he leaned down to touch her nipple with his tongue.
Devil take it, he should never have done it.
Saints help him, all he wanted was to do it again.
He could hear the clatter as Tensford and Whiddon exited the house behind him. They grew silent as they must have caught sight of the ladies.
“Well, then,” Hope declared. “I should like a cup of tea while you tell us what you’ve been up to.”
* * *
There was much animateddiscussion about the various pieces of the puzzle they had so far uncovered. Sterne and Whiddon were still convinced that Stillwater was the likeliest thief. Penelope fetched her notebook and put down all the new information in it, but she was absorbed with the question of why her cousin kept popping up in their investigation—and how she could discover the answer.
“Oh, do let us talk of something else, at least until the tea comes,” the countess said at last. “Penelope, didn’t you have something to show Sterne?”
