Thick As Thieves Read Free Page B

a horrid location," I said demurely, and immediately turned to smile at the lady, to divert his conversation and her wrath at my knowing Dalton while not knowing her.
    "Allow me to present my sister, Lady Filmore," he said. "Linda, this is—I do not have your names, ladies." He smiled.
    I introduced first myself, then Hennie. You may be sure I took careful note that his companion was his sister. She had all the accoutrements of an Incomparable—blond curls, blue eyes, rose petal skin, teeth of pearl, French gown, etc.
    Lady Filmore told us that her brother—she called him Richard—had mentioned the little fracas in Shepherd's Market, and chided us for going to such a verminous place. We stayed chatting a moment, working around to asking for the ring. Lady Filmore was an inestimable help. She was a regular chatterbox.
    Over the next few moments, we learned that Lady Filmore (Linda) was not only married but widowed, at nineteen years of age. I wondered if her husband had left her unprovided for, since she made her home with Mr. Dalton. Soon it came out that she already had another beau in her eye.
    "Let us sit and rest our legs," she suggested. "I want to talk about Brighton, Richard. Let us go there this week. The Season ends tomorrow. Everyone will be running off to Brighton. You have that handsome house on Marine Parade, sitting idle."
    "Lord Harelson, I assume, will be going to Brighton?" he replied with a quizzing smile that spoke of romance.
    "He mentioned going today," she laughed.
    Much as I enjoyed having someone other than Hennie to talk with in the park, I sensed we had outstayed our welcome. "We will leave you to it, Lady Filmore," I said. "We must be running along now, but before we go—foolish me!" I turned a fluttering gaze on Dalton. "I was carrying an emerald ring I had just redeemed from the pawnbroker when I bumped into you at Shepherd's Market, Mr. Dalton. I know I had it in my hand when I bumped into you, and a moment later, it was gone. We went back and scoured the street with a fine-tooth comb. It is extremely unlikely, I know, but do you think it might just possibly have fallen into your pocket?" We walked on a little way.
    Dalton slid his hand into his pocket, and brought it out empty. "It seems not," he said.
    His expression was perfectly bland, yet I was morally certain the man was lying. So much for the ton! "Try the other pocket. It must be there," I said. He tried the other pocket, with the same result.
    "Would you happen to have a hole in your pocket?" I asked, my voice becoming thin with annoyance. He turned his pockets out, so that I could see they were empty, but in good repair. I could only stare in disbelief. It was impossible! I soon concluded that he had found the ring, and was concealing it from me. Stealing it, in other words.
    "You must be mistaken, Eve," Auntie said.
    "Mistaken, is it?" I asked, eyes fulminating.
    "Perhaps it fell out into my carriage," Dalton suggested. He certainly knew the way my mind was veering. I should not have been a bit surprised if he also suspected I had hidden the ring to avoid detection.
    "Where is your carriage?" I demanded.
    "Unfortunately I had it taken to the stable when I called on my sister. She wished to take her own carriage. I shall have mine searched and take the ring to you if it is found, if you will give me your address, Miss Denver."
    I told him, but I had very little hope of ever seeing the ring again, and wished to learn where this new thief resided.
    "We are practically neighbors, ma'am. I live on Grosvenor Square," he said, without my even asking.
    "Then you will not have to go far out of your way to return the ring. I am sure you will find it in your carriage. Where else could it be?" I added, in a rhetorical spirit.
    "Where else indeed? Will you be home this evening?"
    "You may be very sure of it, sir. If it is not in your carriage, I must take other steps," I said, flashing a menacing glance at him. Of course, it was hopeless. Who