“Right,” Juliet said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
“You look well now,” Annabelle said. “Go. And bring back some emeralds.”
Chapter 7
Juliet could feel his stare upon her as she entered the drawing room. She tried to look away, but he was like one of those paintings in which the person within seems to be staring at you no matter where you walk in the room.
When she lifted her head to take a glass from a tray, she caught his eye. When she pretended to laugh at something Mrs. Shiplack said, he filled her vision. When she stood for dinner, she could feel him watching her as she walked.
When they entered the dining room, Mr. Shiplack abruptly took her elbow. “Come,” he said, “sit next to me.”
It was then Juliet purposely met Xander’s eye, saw his jaw tighten and his fists clench at Mr. Shiplack’s touch on her, though he could do nothing. Neither of them could — not until this was over. It was just a dinner, Juliet told herself as she allowed Shiplack to lead her to the table. He placed her on the end as he sat down next to her, the baron at the head of the table on her other side. Mrs. Shiplack was across from them, and Juliet managed a smile for her, as she would be the one person who would have to get her through this dinner.
At least the baron had given her the earrings to wear tonight. He told her they were one of his favorite pieces, and would she please show them off for him. She had smiled, keeping herself from rolling her eyes at the fact that he saw her as little more than a showpiece upon which to display his riches.
Now Juliet just needed to find a time to slip away to meet Annabelle and exchange them before his valet asked her to return them.
A dish was placed in front of her, and Juliet had to force herself to keep from turning to look behind her when she smelled and sensed Xander’s presence. His arm brushed against the bare skin of her neck as he drew his hand away, and she was comforted by the fact that he was here, that she wasn’t alone.
She might not be able to trust that he wouldn’t leave her empty-handed, but she knew that he would never allow any harm to come to her.
A memory surfaced, unbidden, of the first time she had met Xander. She was usually so deft, but she had been mid-pickpocket when she had been distracted by the man’s wife. The woman had been wearing a necklace of emeralds and rubies — even then, Juliet had been unable to resist the lure of beautiful jewels.
The man had turned, catching her wrist in his grasp. Juliet had cried out, dropping the coin she had retrieved. When she had looked into the nobleman’s face, she saw the lack of pity, the disgust for her. When he vowed to take her before the magistrate, she believed him.
And then there was a commotion to the side. A young man and woman began yelling at one another, right in the middle of the street. At the first hint of distraction, the man’s grip had loosened, and Juliet had been lifted and carried away.
Somehow, she had known not to be frightened. Then Xander had placed her down, smiled that wide, charming smile at her, and she had known that everything was going to be all right.
For the next three years, he had always been there. Her friend. Her protector. Never more, except in her heart. Every look, every touch, reminded her that she was no longer alone, that she would always have him.
As she felt right now.
The moment she was warmed by his touch, however, something brushed against her leg, and she jumped when she saw Mr. Shiplack smile slyly at her. Juliet swallowed hard as she shifted her legs as far from him as she could without hitting the baron’s.
The dinner was excruciatingly long, but fortunately she managed to ask Mrs. Shiplack enough questions that the woman chattered on and filled the time and the silence. Finally, it was time for the ladies to retire to the drawing room, and Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. As they were about to pass through the door, she nearly looked to Xander and nodded to him but before she could do so, a loud crash sounded from behind them. She turned in surprise with the rest of the ladies, only to find the baron had fallen out of his chair to the floor.
Juliet stood staring for a moment before realizing that she should likely be much more concerned. She hurried over to him, making it there just as Xander and Mr. Shiplack did. The three of them looked over Lord Wilington for a moment, finding that he was breathing but unable to determine just what might have caused his collapse.
“Did he drink too much?” Juliet asked as she noted just how grey his skin currently was.
“I doubt it,” Mr. Shiplack said, while Xander waved Damien over.
“He doesn’t look well,” Xander said, sharing a concerned glance with his brother. “Perhaps a physician should be called.”
The whole of the room turned to look at Juliet, and she realized they were waiting for her to make the decision. Fortunately, the butler entered at that moment, and together the two of them decided that it would be best to fetch the closest one they could find.
“Just in case,” Juliet said, trying to smile reassuringly to the rest of the party. “I’m sure Lord Wilington is just fine.”
The truth was, however, she wasn’t sure at all. He had been looking weaker and paler over the past few days, but she had assumed that the house party was just taking its toll on him.
Now she wondered if it was something far more serious.
The physician should be able to tell. She followed Xander and Damien up the stairs as they carried the baron up, unsure of what else she should be doing. She was not the lady of the house, and yet there was no one else who would fill the role.
She stepped outside of the room, not wanting to wait within but knowing she should be near when the physician arrived.
When the baron’s valet entered, Xander joined her outside in the hall. Damien followed, but at some unspoken signal from Xander, continued past them.
“Are you all right?” Xander asked in a low voice, looking around to ensure that no one was near.
“I think so,” she whispered back. “But what do I do? If something happens to him, I cannot stay here.”
“No,” he said, “but he seems to be a survivor if nothing else. Damien and I have a plan, but we will have to work quickly. We are working on the locks, but it might take some time as I’m waiting on other tools. There is something else, however.”
“What’s that?” she asked, raising her brows, wondering just what more there could be.
“We’ve discovered something. Something that tells us that we are not the only ones after the jewels.”
Juliet’s mouth dropped open. “But how could that be? Who else would—”
“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his hair, apparently truly vexed. “But we have to find out. To keep you safe, if nothing else. When we have a chance, I’ll show you, but until then, you must be careful, Juliet. Keep far away from Shiplack. I don’t trust him, and I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“Neither do I,” Juliet murmured with a shudder. “But he is married and he is the baron’s closest friend. There is no reason for him to threaten me with anything.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of reason, just none that I feel like going into at the moment,” Xander said grimly. “We’ll have to discuss it later, for here comes the physician now.”
As he turned, he placed a hand on the small of her back for a moment, and Juliet was comforted by both his touch and his presence, as much as she was disconcerted by what it might mean.
The physician, a tall man with wiry grey hair and glasses, strode down the hallway with bag in hand.
Juliet greeted him, introducing herself before she and Xander followed him into the baron’s bedroom. Juliet explained what had happened before the man began examining him. The silence was nearly unbearable. It was not that she overly cared about Lord Wilington, but she did not want to see anyone lose their life, even if it was a man like him.
The physician was partway through his examination when the baron’s eyes flew open and he suddenly shot up in bed.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“My lord, you know Mr. Anderson, the physician? He has come to see you after you collapsed following dinner,” Juliet explained.
“I don’t need the physician,” he said, staring down the man, who seemed troubled but stepped back when Lord Wilington pushed his hand away.
“My lord, I would implore you to reconsider,” Mr. Anderson said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I believe you are quite ill. Your heartbeat is rather erratic.”
“Only because I am annoyed at having you all hovering around me as though I am an ill child! Leave me.”
“My lord, I would suggest that the best thing for you at this moment would be rest.”
“Rest?”
“Yes, my lord,” the physician implored. “Rest and try to recover your health.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“I really think—”
But the baron was already waving him away, calling for his trusted valet, who came running.
“Everyone else, get out,” the baron ordered, and Juliet and Xander exchanged a look. “I said out! Juliet, come back in the morning.”
“Of course, my lord,” she murmured before following Xander out the door, the physician in her wake.
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson,” she said, embarrassed despite none of it actually being her fault. “I apologize. Lord Wilington is a proud man.”
“I have lived in these parts all my life, Miss—”
“Simpson.”
“Miss Simpson. I am aware of the baron’s temperament. If he does not want assistance, there is nothing I can do. However, I believe he is a very sick man. I can’t say what, but there may be something wrong with his heart. If his condition worsens at all, please summon me. In the meantime, try to ensure that he remains in bed and refrains from any vigorous activity.”
“I shall do my best,” Juliet said with a small smile before seeing the physician out the front door. Xander remained in the background, out of sight but still there in support.
Finding the foyer void of any other guests or servants, she walked over to him, looking up at him in supplication.
“What am I to do now?” she asked, throwing her hands up at the side. “I am not the lady of the house, and yet who else is supposed to look after everything?”
“You could go home,” Xander said, though not unkindly. “I promise you, Juliet, I will look after everything.”
“And I will help you,” she said firmly, but before they could speak any further, a voice bellowed down the stairs.
“John! John! Come up here!”
“I suppose that would be you?” Juliet asked, arching an eyebrow, to which Xander grunted.
“I suppose it would be. I wonder what the man could want.”
“Best to find out.”
* * *
Xander hated the smell of the baron’s room. It was like tobacco smoke and a cloying perfume. How the valet spent day in and out in the room, he had no idea, but he was just grateful the open job at Lochrich had been as footman and not the valet.
“My lord?” he said, opening the door, finding Lord Wilington still in bed, although his face was a bit ruddier than it had been earlier. The valet stood to the side as sentry.
“John, get in here.”
Xander steeled himself against his annoyance at being spoken to in such a manner, but he reminded himself that he was the servant here, and he had no cause to object.
“Yes?” he said as he came to stand at the edge of the bed.
“I need your help. Something in this house is not right.”
“Oh? In what regard?”
“I believe someone is stealing from me.”
Xander smoothed his expression over his surprise. He was certainly planning on stealing from the baron, but he hadn’t actually done so yet.
He thought of the cottage, one that he and Damien had happened upon the day before. It had, at first, seemed deserted, a strange building hidden at the back of the baron’s estate. Could that have anything to do with it? Was someone using it to hide whatever they were stealing?
“What causes you to believe such a thing?”
“I cannot say for certain. But I can feel it.”
Xander nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Perhaps the baron was more alert than Xander and Damien had given him credit for, even considering his poor health.
“What would you like me to do?”
“I want you to keep an eye on things. I am sending home most of the guests so if it is any of them, it should no longer be a problem. In the meantime, I would like you to see if there is any suspicious behaviour, and if there is, to put a stop to it. You’re a big man — you and the other one I hired with you. Do whatever it takes.”
Xander nodded. “Very well.”
“Good. And John?”
“Yes?”
“Do not tell anyone we spoke of this, do you hear me?”
“Understood, my lord.”
“Go now. Return tomorrow and tell me what you find out.”
“Very well. I hope you are able to rest, my lord.”
The baron’s only response was to snort as Xander walked out of the room.
Chapter 8
Juliet was miserable. It had been two days, and the baron had called upon her constantly. To bring him something to eat. Something to drink. Something to read. Whenever she left he would call her back, and she was only grateful that his valet was constantly near so that she was, at least, not alone with him the entire time.
Why he expected her to wait on him when he had an entire staff she had no idea, but she was not in a place to argue.
She wished Xander was here with her, but she had no idea where he was or what he was doing. She also hated that she cared so much about his whereabouts.
Which was why, when she went to take her own supper that night, she was relieved when he intercepted her, taking her arm and steering her into an empty parlor.
“Xander,” she said with relief, wiping a hand across her forehead. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been helping most of the guests to gather their things and depart,” he said. “As you know, all are leaving but the Shiplacks.”
Juliet crossed her arms over her chest. “As happy as I am not to remain alone with Lord Wilington, I wish it wasn’t them who was staying.”
“I wish the same,” Xander said, nodding grimly. “What has it been like with Raymond?”
“Excruciating,” she said with a wince. “But safe. He has not tried anything untoward, his valet is always in the room, and at least I am away from Mr. Shiplack.”
“That’s a small blessing,” Xander agreed. “I must speak to you about something.”
“What is it?” she said, worried to see that Xander’s face was troubled, which was not a usual look for him.
“The baron believes someone is stealing from him.”
“Oh?” she said in surprise as her heart started to quicken. “Why?”
“He said it’s a feeling he has. Tell me, Juliet, have you taken anything yet?”
“No,” she said, but at Xander’s probing stare, she found that she couldn’t completely lie to him. “Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there may be the odd… trinket that I have stored away.”
“Well, be careful,” Xander warned. “He has asked me to keep an eye on things for him, and now that he has sent most of the house party away, he thinks that he will be able to determine just who the thief is. The baron may seem weak, Juliet, but I believe he likes that feeling of power, and I wouldn’t want to think about what he might do if he found out that you weren’t being honest with him.”
“Of course I am careful,” she said, rather indignant that he would think her some amateur who would so easily get caught. “I’ve learned well over the years, Xander.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he reached out and pulled her closer.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Juliet. I just… I worry about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know,” she said softly. “And I understand.”
He trailed a hand down from her cheekbone to cup her chin, before he lifted her face up to look at him. He searched her eyes for a couple of moments before he tilted his head down and softly pressed his lips against hers. Juliet sighed into him, not pushing away as she should be but relishing all that he offered her, all that he provided. She may never see him again after this — nor did she want to — but she would enjoy this. She would worry about how much it would hurt to leave later.
He ended the kiss just as gently, before giving her one last quick peck on the forehead, and then leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. Which was just fine. For Juliet had much to think about and much to plan. She needed to find Annabelle — and quickly.
* * *
Xander was actually grateful that most of the guests had left, for it meant that he and Damien had a slight bit more ability to wander the house and grounds unnoticed.
The problem with the baron’s current ill health was that it meant that he spent nearly all of his time in his bedroom, making it nearly impossible for them to get close to the jewels. Having not yet received the tools they were waiting for, he and Damien had decided they might have to try to force their way in, but the noise would alert anyone nearby.
Even if and when the baron left his room, there was the valet, always about, and Shiplack, who seemed to have far too keen an eye.
“Has anyone been in there recently?” Xander asked, gesturing to the cottage beyond where they walked, just visible in the fading light.
Damien nodded his head. “I found a bag with clothes, documents… it looks like someone is preparing to leave.”
“But who?” Xander asked, lifting his hands to the side. “It cannot be the baron. He has nowhere else to go, and why leave a place where you have everything?”
A Jewel for the Taking: Thieves of Desire Book 2 Page 6
