Ivory and Steel Read Free

on?”
    “In good time, miss. Your name?”
    “Phyllida Dearne. The marchioness—Louisa—is my sister. Is she all right?”
    Mr. Frake’s glance met Lord Ingram’s. The latter gave a slight shake of the head and the Runner nodded.
    “Can’t say as I can do much for anyone at the moment, miss. Mayhap you can tell me what went on during the interval after I left?”
    “Why? Is my sister all right? She’s so very still. And the others—” She looked about, her anxiety increasing, and she started to rise. The attempt left her head reeling. Her knees gave way and she sank once more onto the chair.
    Lord Ingram’s grip tightened on her wrist, strong and oddly sustaining. “There’s nothing you can do at present. Don’t distress yourself, Miss Dearne.”
    “If you could answer my question, miss? You don’t seem to be as bad off as the others.”
    “The interval.” She frowned in an effort of memory. It all seemed so hazy. “Several people came in, that I recall. And a waiter—”
    “Did everyone have some of the wine?” he asked.
    “No. There weren’t enough glasses, you see, and—” She broke off. She could hardly say her sister had not wished to serve her visitors. Louisa had, in fact, wished to make it very clear to them she had become their social superior. She was rather good at that.
    Mr. Frake drew a notebook from his pocket and scribbled something. “Just so, miss. So you didn’t drink anything until the gentleman here and those other two couples left?”
    “That’s right. At the beginning of the next act. Miss Yarborough and I had lemonade. The others had champagne.”
    “Is that your usual preference?” Mr. Frake asked.
    Phyllida’s lips twitched. “It’s the way my sister likes it.”
    Mr. Frake glanced at her from beneath bushy brows but refrained from comment. “What happened then?”
    Phyllida concentrated. “Nothing. I watched the stage then everything became blurry. Look, should the others just be sitting there like that? Lord Ingram, I thought you sent for a doctor.”
    “There will be one soon. Can you remember nothing more? Someone coming in, perhaps?”
    “No. Does it matter? The Allbury diamonds haven’t been stolen. Louisa is still wearing them. Frake,” she added suddenly. “That’s where I’ve heard your name before. You’re the Runner who recovered the diamonds when they were stolen last fall.”
    “That’s right, miss. You were away at the time, as I recall.” He walked around Louisa, who remained motionless. For a long minute he stood behind her, staring at her back, then he looked up and studied the fan Captain Lord Ingram still held.
    A single watercolor portrait of an officer graced the chicken skin, rather than any scene from classical mythology. A name and regiment designation were neatly lettered beneath. Not a work of art, but the carved ivory sticks prevented it from looking as if it had been picked up for a shilling at Grafton House or the Haymarket.
    Mr. Frake’s gaze traveled to the ones hanging from the dowager’s and Miss Yarborough’s wrists and his frown deepened. “They’re all alike,” he said at last.
    “They’re part of a charitable project which my sister heads. Is this necessary? Can’t we do something?”
    “In a moment, miss. Please go on.”
    She clenched frustrated hands together. Oh Lord, she really did feel ill. With an effort, she concentrated on the fans. “Each is specially painted to bear the name and likeness of the buyer’s relative in the military. We have been selling them to members of the ton to raise money for medical care for the returning wounded soldiers.”
    “Very commendable, miss.” The Runner took more notes. “Now if you could tell me—”
    “Why are you asking so many questions?” Phyllida rose, this time successfully. She clutched Lord Ingram’s arm to steady herself then took a step forward. Ingram caught her but she resisted his attempt to force her back into her seat. “What is going on?