Page 35 of Lady in Ruby
A thin silver blade produced from nowhere made quick work of the ropes. Snowdon held her close, lending her his warmth.
Her parents rushed up, her father pulling a tiny vial out of his pocket. “I need something to dilute it,” he said frantically.
“The saint’s spring,” her sensible mother said, scooping some up in her slender hands.
He dripped a few ruby-red spots into her hands. Then her mother offered it to Caroline, who drank it as if it were a rare wine. Moments later, she felt warmth rushing along her veins. “It’s working.”
“Thank God,” her father said. “But I don’t want you making this a habit, child. We’ve not tested repeated exposure.”
“Yes, Papa.” She felt herself laughing, the absurdity of it all suddenly hitting her.
“Come,” Snowdon said. “We need to get some answers out of Foster while we can.”
The quartet walked to where Francis still lay facedown in the snow, with Timothy’s knee digging into his back. Estelle remained nearby, another snowball in her mittened grip.
“Don’t move,” the young man warned. “I’m sure all of us would just love an excuse to beat the tar out of you.”
Caroline wasn’t familiar with the American phrase, but she guessed everyone agreed with Timothy.
“Flip him over,” Snowdon said. Timothy and the two footmen did so, holding tight to his arms to prevent any surprises.
Snowdon reached over and began to pat him down. He pulled a packet of folded paper from a pocket.
“Papa’s notes,” Caroline said.
“There’s more.” Snowdon reached out again. Francis tried to twist away, but Snowdon held him firmly by one shoulder.
He pulled a long and glittering strand from some hidden place, like a magician.
Caroline gasped. “My necklace! How did you know it would be in his pocket?”
“I didn’t know,” Snowdon said. “It was a hunch.”
“But…it fell off when I crashed through the ice!”
“No. Francis was glad you assumed that’s what happened. But in fact, he probably snatched it off you as he pushed you into the damaged spot…which he’d prepared ahead of time.”
“What!” Caroline spun toward Francis, looking in horror at the man she so recently called a brother.
“It’s true,” Snowdon went on. “After I got you to the house, I returned to the pond to find out why you, a woman who knew the pond very well and would have known about any natural warm springs or thin ice, fell through the ice when Foster didn’t.”
Francis refused to look at her. He mumbled, “I thought I might need the rubies, if I couldn’t sell the formula quickly. I didn’t plan to steal them—that was impulse.”
“But you did weaken the ice in that spot.”
“You wouldn’t have been hurt, not really,” he defended himself. “There were so many people about. And I needed someone to be cold enough to spur your father to try the formula on them.”
“On me, you mean. Oh, Francis, how could you do that?”
“Take him away,” Snowdon ordered quietly.
Francis was led off by Timothy and three grim-faced footmen.
Snowdon handed Caroline the necklace, who took it in one trembling hand.
“I never thought I would see this again,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve to have them, after wearing them when I shouldn’t have.”
“He led you into a trap and then stole them from you when he sprang it,” Snowdon said, his tone rough. “You were the victim twice over.”
