Charmed at Christmas (Christmas at Castle Keyvnor Book 1)

by Claire Delacroix

No matter what the cost.

  Chapter 5

  Eurydice awakened to find that Daphne was gone. Jenny was inexplicably huddled in the corner of the room, still sniffling from her cold. She was wrapped in a blanket from Daphne’s bed and looked to be miserable.

  Eurydice sat up and felt so chilled that she shivered. How she hated to fall ill! “Where is Daphne?” she asked and the maid lifted a finger to her lips.

  “She told me to wait here and be utterly silent,” Jenny confessed in a whisper.

  “But why?”

  The maid shrugged, proving once again that she was possessed of less curiosity than Eurydice. Even if Daphne had been stern and mysterious, Eurydice would have been more interested in the truth than Jenny appeared to be. She made to get out of bed and sneezed again.

  “My lady, it seems you had better stay in bed today,” Jenny said, still keeping her voice low. “I’ll fetch you water to wash, for a change of nightrail will be welcome, as soon as Miss Goodenham returns.”

  “But where has she gone?” Eurydice asked in exasperation. She could hear the house beginning to stir and she was hungry.

  Jenny shrugged again, and then Daphne herself came quickly through the door. She was out of breath from running and dressed in Jenny’s clothes. Her hair was only braided but her eyes shone with audacity and satisfaction. She was flushed and delighted in a way that Eurydice did not trust.

  Surely her sister had not been so foolish as to meet a man?

  Daphne quickly shed the clothes she wore and helped Jenny to don them, then sent the maid for hot water. Once the maid was gone, she hurried to her trunk and tucked something into it before facing Eurydice.

  “What are you doing?” Eurydice demanded, sensing a scheme and wanting all the details. “Tell me that you did not have an assignation!”

  “Shhhh!” Daphne said, practically flying across the chamber to lay her finger across Eurydice’s lips. “Do not speak of it, and keep your voice low no matter what you say.”

  “Where did you go?”

  Daphne glanced to the door and leaned close, her lips practically against Eurydice’s ear. Even so, Eurydice had to concentrate to hear her. “There is a thief in the house and the duke is intent upon catching him,” she confided. “I heard someone in our room and found the Eye of India in my trunk this morning. I knew the duke would best advise me what to do.”

  “You went to him?”

  Daphne nodded.

  “I imagine you had a shock if you saw him before he was dressed. Is he bald, too?”

  Daphne shook her head, impatient with such details. “He bade me put it back and said there would be a search called this morning. If not, I’m to encourage one.”

  Eurydice sat back in horror. “But then you’ll be named...”

  “No,” Daphne said. “He said he’d defend me if so, but he thinks it will not be so. I am to observe who searches our chamber and report to him.”

  “Why would the thief hide it here?”

  “The duke has a notion that he would see proven.” Daphne glanced about herself again then whispered even more quietly, “He thinks the thief uses an unwitting guest as his accomplice to remove his prize from the house, then pilfers that person’s luggage later.”

  “What a devious fiend.”

  “Indeed.”

  “And he is here, perhaps a guest at the castle.” Already Eurydice was reviewing the list of guests and considering which was most likely to be a jewel thief.

  “So it appears.” Daphne frowned. “I believe the duke’s sister’s reputation was soiled by this man and his schemes.”

  “Then he must be caught.”

  “Agreed.”

  Eurydice reflected upon the matter. “If I were to organize a search to find such a missing treasure, I would wait until all the gentlemen were in the dining room, as well as whatever ladies were coming down. I would then search the gentlemen’s rooms quietly, without their awareness, and search the ladies’ rooms after they had made their way downstairs for the activities of the day. It could all be accomplished with great discretion, save the searching of individual persons.”

  “Do you think the earl will allow that?”

  “Not if he wishes to keep the theft and the search secret. It will be up to the butler, Morris, to orchestrate the details. You should dress and go down for breakfast as soon as possible, to learn as much as you can of their scheme.”

  “And you?”

  Eurydice smiled. “I fear I am too sick to leave our chamber.” She sneezed with gusto and pretended to sniffle. “Jenny has already told me to remain in bed. I will do as much and feign sleep. Then I will see who searches our chamber and where he or she looks.”

  “Jenny should remain with you.”

  “If I were the thief, I would not search the chamber until she was gone.”

  “Do you think it quite safe for you to be alone here?”

  “Perhaps not, but it is devilishly exciting.” Eurydice smiled. “Like something from a novel. Return before luncheon and I will tell you what I have seen. After all, I would not have you be without tidings for your duke.”

  Daphne gripped her hand. “Thank you, Eurydice.”

  “I still cannot fathom what you find appealing about the man.”

  Her sister’s smile was quick and triumphant. “Perhaps love works in mysterious ways.”

  “Love?!” Despite her protestation, not another word about the duke could Eurydice pry from Daphne’s lips.

  Daphne listened with care as she descended the main staircase. She could hear the murmur of men’s voices, and thought she detected a thread of urgency. The earl was conferring quietly with the butler, Morris, the pair of them very solemn.

  “And are you not a fine sight with which to greet the day, Miss Goodenham?” Mr. Cushing demanded cheerfully, his voice behind Daphne enough to make her jump. “I daresay you are the prettiest girl in Cornwall.”

  “I thank you, sir,” she said, taking his elbow to continue into the dining room. “Do you mean to ride today?”

  “Oh, I think not,” he said easily, then wagged a finger at her. “You neglected to give me a tour yesterday.”

  “Indeed, I did. I am sorry but my grandmother required our attendance.”

  “And I am heartbroken,” he said lightly. “Would you do the honors this morning instead?”

  Daphne frowned as Gryffyn Cardew joined the other two men and their murmuring continued.

  The theft had been discovered then, and they were deciding what to do.

  She continued to chatter, as if oblivious, though her heart was skipping. “I had thought of taking a walk in the garden,” Daphne said.

  “Oh, but that would suit me perfectly!” Mr. Cushing said. “Is it true that there is a maze?”

  “A very fine one, sir.”

  “Then I would entreat you to show it to me this very morning.” He made a pout, although his eyes were twinkling. “Otherwise, Miss Goodenham, my heart may never recover from the blow you have dealt it.”

  Daphne laughed, as she was certain she was meant to. She truly didn’t care about showing Mr. Cushing any detail of the house or garden, but she supposed she should behave as if all were normal. The duke could act brilliantly, so she would try to do the same. The gentlemen in the foyer clearly came to some agreement with Morris. The butler then conferred with Mrs. Bray before the pair set off together.

  There was purpose in their strides.

  But if only Morris and Mrs. Bray did the searches, did that mean one of them was the thief?

  Or had Alexander been mistaken?

  Daphne’s throat tightened with the prospect of the Eye of India being found in her trunk. What would her grandmother say? What could she do? She had promised the duke to do as instructed, and this was but the first test of her obedience.

  She would not fail him.

  It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Bray, who knocked on the door.

  “Whatever are you doing here?” she demanded when Jenny o
pened the door.

  “Lady Eurydice is ill, Mrs. Bray, and thought I should attend to her...”

  Eurydice managed to summon an impressive sneeze. She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes as the housekeeper surveyed her with disapproval. “Good morning, Mrs. Bray,” she said, ensuring that she sounded as if her nose was blocked.

  “If I may say so, it does not appear to be a good day for you, Miss Eurydice,” the older woman said sourly, then turned to Jenny again. “What you should do is tell Nelson of your mistress’ illness so that Lady North Barrows is fully aware of the situation.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Bray.”

  “I suggest you do so immediately.”

  Jenny cast a glance at Eurydice.

  “It would be very sensible, Jenny,” Eurydice said. “Please go.”

  No sooner had the door closed behind the maid, then Mrs. Bray fixed Eurydice with a look. “I do apologize for the inconvenience, miss, but there has been a theft. Morris has instructed me to search the baggage of lady guests in the remote chance that the Eye of India has been...misplaced.”

  Eurydice strove to appear both surprised and alarmed. “The Eye of India? Isn’t that the gem that was given to Lady Tamsyn?”

  “The very same.”

  “I cannot imagine how it might be in our luggage.”

  The housekeeper gave her a quelling look. “Surely you do not wish to obstruct the course of justice, Miss Eurydice?”

  “Surely not, Mrs. Bray,” Eurydice said, clenching her hands together beneath the sheets. Was Mrs. Bray the thief? It did seem unlikely.

  But if the housekeeper wasn’t the thief, then the duke had given Daphne bad advice. The gem would be found and Daphne would be accused of taking it. Had her sister granted her trust in the wrong place?

  Eurydice could scarcely breathe in her terror, but she did her best to continue the ruse of being ill. To be sure, she did not have to do it long.

  Within moments, Mrs. Bray had found the gem. She froze in the act of searching Daphne’s trunk, then straightened slowly with the velvet sack in her hand. She opened it and Eurydice saw a flash of the stones, then Mrs. Bray turned to face her with it on her palm. “I suppose you know nothing of how this came to be here?”

  Eurydice didn’t have to pretend to be shocked. “Nothing!” she squeaked. “Daphne would never have taken it. She doesn’t even take my hair ribbons!”

  The grim housekeeper did not reply. She simply left the room, inclining her head briefly to Eurydice, then called for Morris.

  Eurydice felt truly ill then.

  Daphne was doomed.

  She flung herself from the bed and began to dress with haste.

  Alexander paced in his chamber at the tavern. He had to leave time for the trap to be sprung, but he did not like that Daphne was alone and undefended. He was tense. Uncertain. Fearful of the outcome.

  “You are going to the castle for luncheon,” Rupert murmured, his tone reassuring. He was polishing Alexander’s boots. “She cannot find much trouble in the span of several hours.”

  “I would argue that a girl could find boundless trouble in so much time as that,” Alexander replied grimly. “I, for example, could have ruined her in thirty minutes.”

  “Given your recent chastity and her beauty, it might have only taken ten.”

  Alexander glared at his friend, not so much because he was annoyed but because he felt it was expected.

  Rupert grinned. He then sobered. “Are you certain you should have trusted her?”

  “Why would I not have done so?”

  “She could be part of the scheme. The villain might mean to draw you out. You did, after all, walk with her after church yesterday.”

  “And so?”

  “And so, if the thief guesses your role, he might have chosen her as an ally in exposing you. She might be in his trust and sent to draw you out.”

  Alexander shook his head, trusting his instinctive sense of her honesty. “Daphne has no guile.”

  “She might be a pawn, used without her awareness that she is being so manipulated.”

  There was a prospect that Alexander could not readily refute.

  Before he could summon a reply, there was a sound from the table before the fire. He spun to see that the vine had dropped a large bud, which had made a noise when striking the floor. He might have expected that the blooms would eventually fade, but another fell with a thud as he was watching. In fact, there were no open flowers left at all. They were all either closed or closing, their hue turning as dark as midnight, and more of them fell before his eyes.

  The vine even seemed to wilt, drooping with no hint of its former vigor.

  “Finally, that wretched thing reaches its limit. I had wondered what we were to do with it on our departure,” Rupert began but Alexander held up a hand.

  “It thrives when the laird’s courtship finds favor,” he said with resolve. “That is the tale. Either she has turned against me, or she is in peril.” His voice rose to a roar. “My boots! My jacket! A horse, for the love of God!”

  “Aye, go,” Rupert replied, taking the foppish tone of Alexander’s disguise. “Leave me with this mess of a cravat while you pursue your paramour!”

  Alexander realized that his friend was thinking more clearly than he was. It would be much quicker for him to leave if he pretended to be Haskell.

  That man continued as he gave Alexander the dark jacket and cloak, helping him dress with all haste. “I tell you, Haskell, one more billet-doux and we are finished. Finished! If I cannot rely upon your undivided attention, then I have no need of your services at all!” He dropped his voice. “Take the bay. She is more than ready to run.”

  Alexander nodded and left the chamber as Haskell complained mightily about his supposed shortcomings, hoping with every step that he reached Daphne in time.

  Daphne did not manage to eat much more than a morsel at breakfast, although the food was delicious. She smiled and nodded, but had little idea what was said to her.

  Morris came into the dining room, his expression stern, and bent to whisper something to Mr. Cushing. That man excused himself and left the room, and Daphne swallowed in her fear.

  She excused herself and left the dining room, heading back to the chamber she shared with Eurydice. She wanted desperately to know what had happened in her absence.

  She only made it to the base of the stairs before Mr. Cushing came striding out of the library. He seized her elbow and fairly shoved her into a parlor. “Quickly!” he said in a whisper. “We must hurry!”

  His manner was so imperious that Daphne obeyed. It was only when he closed and locked the door behind them that she wondered at his scheme. “But why? What is amiss?”

  Someone called her name from the corridor. Daphne thought it was the earl, but Mr. Cushing shoved her toward the doors that opened to the gardens. “They mean to hunt the duke and his man,” he whispered. “It is a terrible mistake. We have to warn him!”

  Alarm surged through Daphne. “Of course! I will just fetch my cloak.”

  Mr. Cushing’s grip tightened on her arm. “There is no time! You can wear my jacket,” he said, shedding it and wrapping it around her. “Quickly!”

  Daphne did as instructed, terrified for Alexander. “What did you hear? What is this about?”

  “The Eye of India,” Mr. Cushing said, urging her across the lawn. “It was stolen.”

  “No!” Daphne protested because she thought she should.

  She had expected they would either go to the stables to fetch horses or walk toward the village. Mr. Cushing, though, was leading her toward the maze.

  What was he doing?

  “Yes,” he said with conviction and she noticed a hardness in his eyes that she had not seen before. “And worse, the one they recovered is a forgery.” He flung her forward, casting her into the maze so savagely that she stumbled. She realized belatedly that no one would be able to see them.

  He seized his coat, hauling it from her shoulders and leaving her shi
vering as he glared down at her. “Where is it, Miss Goodenham?”

  “Where is what?” she asked, retreating carefully.

  “The real Eye of India,” Mr. Cushing said, taking measured steps in pursuit. She could not believe she had ever thought him charming and good-natured. “What have you done with it?”

  “Nothing!” Daphne backed away, rounding a corner. Could she get a confession from him for Alexander? Could she be of assistance to her duke in disguise?

  “But you met someone this morning.”

  “How do you know that?” With every question, Daphne retreated further into the maze. She had no choice. She could not pass Mr. Cushing and she didn’t want him to touch her.

  “I saw from the window,” he said with a sneer. “And that kiss, as well. Who was it? Did you give it to him?”

  “I gave nothing to anyone,” she declared, which was true. He raised a hand, but she spoke first. “Were you the one who put the gem in my trunk?”

  Mr. Cushing laughed. “So you did find it.”

  “It was there when I went to breakfast. Did you put it there?”

  “Of course, I did. Who else has the wits to steal such gems with perfect success?”

  “It is not so perfect a success if there is only a forgery remaining,” she could not help but say.

  He struck her then, slapping her across the face. His blow stung and revealed his true nature. “Where is the real gem now?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps you took it back.”

  “Liar!” He lunged after her with fury in his eyes and Daphne fled. “I will have the gem!” he snarled and she ran as quickly as she could.

  She knew she was going deeper into the maze. She knew she hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to find her way back out. But with such a villain in hot pursuit, she feared she had little chance of escape.

  “Alexander!” she screamed with all her might, hoping against hope that her duke was close enough to hear her.

  Alexander galloped the bay toward Castle Keyvnor. He heard Daphne scream his name and the sound was enough to make his blood run cold.

  Sadly, he could not tell where she was. The gardens were enormous and seemingly empty. She could be on the parapet walk or at a window. He pulled the horse up short and turned it in place, uncertain where to look.