“Not a bit of it, James. Mihos has proven not only to look like a tiger, but to have an appetite like one. We simply must keep up his strength.”
James smiled as he went about his work.
Daphne glanced at the clock. Was it too early to send a message to Lord Ravenswood to call on her? She wanted to tell him of the break-in. No, she shook her head slightly. Better to wait a little while.
“Has Miss Shelby been down yet, James?”
The footman paused. “No, she hasn’t, miss. Odd that. Miss Shelby usually feeds the dogs real early-like.”
“Leonie is probably sleeping late after the contretemps of last night. As for the dogs, oh, those miscreants. I have been feeding them when I come down as they always behave as if they are starving! The wicked, wicked creatures.”
James laughed. Daphne opened a fresh copy of the Times and began to read. Mihos had finished eating and was licking a paw and using it to clean around his whisker pad.
This comfortable scene was shattered moments later when Biggs burst into the room. “Miss! The most dreadful thing.”
Daphne’s heart jumped in her chest. She rose, and the newspaper slipped out of her fingers onto the floor. “What has happened?”
Mihos looked in alarm from one to the other.
“Miss Shelby had not yet rung for anyone to help her dress, so I went along and peeped into her room. Just to make sure she was all right, what with everything that happened last night,” the maid explained.
Daphne nodded encouragingly.
Biggs took a deep breath. “You can imagine how I felt when I saw her bed all made up like she never slept in it! I found this letter addressed to you, miss, propped on the fireplace mantel.”
Daphne accepted the missive with shaking hands. She ripped it open and read silently.
Dearest Daphne,
It seems I have brought Bad Luck down upon your undeserving head. You were too considerate of my feelings to say so, but I know last night’s terrible events were all My Fault. You should never have taken pity on me and taken me into your household, although I shall forever be Grateful that you did. Please try to think of me Fondly, and if you should have the occasion to speak with Eugene, relay my Deepest Thanks for his friendship. I fear I shall never see anyone I love again.
Yours, Leonie
Daphne stood there, blank and much shaken. “She has run away,” she told the waiting servants. Daphne was loath to reveal the intelligence that the housebreaker had been after an ivory figurine Miss Shelby had been accused of stealing. “’Tis a misunderstanding.”
James came to stand by his mistress. “Where could she have gone, miss?”
“I never heard Miss Shelby speak of any family. Did you?” Biggs inquired.
Daphne pressed her fingers to her temples. “She does have family, but I cannot believe she would return to them. I gained the impression they mistreated her.”
She dropped her hands in dismay. “Heavens, I must find her. Miss Shelby cannot be left to think she is not wanted. James, bring around the traveling coach. Biggs, pack a bag for me, and bring my dark green cloak.”
“But, miss, where are you going?” Biggs asked.
“I am not certain yet. I need a few minutes to think. When I have decided, though, I want everything to be ready. James, you shall accompany me.”
“Yes, miss.” Both servants hastened away to do their mistress’s bidding.
At that moment the doors to the drawing room opened, and Eugene stood on the threshold. The manservant bowed. “Good morning. Miss Kendall. I have come to see Miss Shelby.”
Mihos dashed across the room to greet Eugene, who bent and stroked his head. “Hello, little tiger, I am flattered by your attention.”
“Eugene!” Daphne exclaimed, coming to meet him. “How glad I am to see you. We desperately need your help.” She handed him the letter Miss Shelby left. “Leonie has gone.”
“Gone?” he asked, his voice rising in shock. Daphne motioned to the letter, and the manservant bent his turbaned head to scan the lines.
“No, no, my wise lady,” he muttered, agony plain in his voice. He glanced up sharply at Daphne. “What does she mean when she speaks of last night’s events?”
Quickly Daphne outlined their confrontation with the housebreaker, whom she recognized, and her belief that Miss Shelby must feel responsible for the incident. Eugene listened intently, then asked, “This Mr. Phillips kept asking for the ivory cat figurine? That is the one Miss Shelby was falsely accused of taking from the duchess?”
“Yes—” Daphne stopped and tilted her head consideringly. “Well, Mr. Phillips never actually said ‘the ivory figurine.’ I just assumed that was what he meant. His exact words were that he wanted the ‘stolen cat statue.’”
Eugene froze. “What did this Mr. Phillips look like?”
“Tall, very blue eyes, brown hair streaked heavily with blond.”
Eugene closed his eyes in dread.
“What is it?” Daphne demanded. “Have you thought of something? You must tell me, Eugene.”
The manservant opened his eyes. His calm expression belied his inner turmoil. “Perhaps Mr. Phillips was sent by the duchess. We may never know, and at this time it does not matter. Miss Shelby must be found.”
“Exactly my feeling,” Daphne said fervently.
“We need more information. You can help, Miss Kendall, by going to Miss Shelby’s room and seeing what she has taken with her.”
Daphne wanted to protest, but nodded and hurried from the room.
Once she was gone, Eugene turned his back to the door. The cat looked at him raptly. The manservant said, “Mihos, center your energy with mine. We will use our powers to find Leonie.”
“Grraow,” the cat agreed softly.
Eugene raised a hand to touch the eye-pin in his turban and concentrated with all his might. The cat sat tall next to him, his tail wrapped around his paws, his striped body swaying slightly.
The clock ticked away the seconds in the quiet room. Eugene breathed deeply and steadily. Slowly a picture came into his mind of Leonie sitting in a gypsy camp, talking with the fortune-teller from the fair.
She was with the gypsies.
Eugene dropped his hand and sunk into a chair. Mihos hopped up on the sofa and lay down watching him.
Eugene sat deep in thought. Thank the gods Leonie was safe. But for how long? Who was to say the gypsies would allow a stranger to stay among them?
He rained a number of curses down on his own head. All of this was his fault. When Miss Kendall had described Vincent Phillips, Eugene knew at once he was the thief in the museum in Baluk. The man sought the Bastet statue, not the ivory cat figurine!
Phillips must have remembered his face from that day in Baluk when Eugene had taken the Bastet statue, then traced him to London and somehow found him.
Eugene jumped to his feet in agitation. He recalled the feeling he had as he and Miss Shelby had been talking at the Egyptian Hall. The sense of being watched. Eugene would wager Phillips had been spying on them, and something they said led him to believe Miss Shelby had the statue of Bastet.
Everything fit together.
Eugene felt a stab of guilt. If only he had not taken Bastet, Leonie would not be in trouble today.
But no, that line of reasoning was senseless, he decided. He had been guided to take the Bastet statue by a higher power. If he had not done so, Lord Ravenswood would not have met Miss Kendall, nor he Leonie, and heaven only knew what would have become of Mihos.
An urgent need to find Leonie seized him. His mind worked at a great speed. He did not want to take the time to relay the events to Lord Ravenswood. His stuffy master would wonder how he knew Miss Shelby was with the gypsies, and precious time would be wasted while the earl questioned the theory. And there lay the additional danger that he would not be convinced.
Ordinarily, Eugene judged, Miss Kendall would stop and question his statement as well, but right now she was not thinking logically. He
r emotions were ruling her head. She could be persuaded to take him to the gypsy camp. Leonie might need Miss Kendall’s assurance as well as his own to convince her to come home.
If they left right away, they would not be slowed by Lord Ravenswood.
Eugene walked to the window and stared out. Leaving Town without his master brought an even bigger dilemma. The code of honor by which he lived demanded he remain at his master’s side. In all the years he was with Lord Montcross, Eugene had never left him.
Eugene leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes. His honor demanded he remain with his master. His deep regard for Leonie commanded him to go to her and bring her back where she belonged until he could make her his own.
Miss Kendall reentered the room. “Eugene, she has taken only the gowns she had when she came to me. Everything I purchased for her has been left behind.”
The manservant turned from the window. “I know where she is, Miss Kendall.”
Daphne gave a glad cry and crossed the room to lay her hand on the white sleeve of his tunic. “Tell me, Eugene. She is safe?”
He nodded, but cautioned, “For the moment. She is with the gypsies we met at the fair.” Eugene’s face was set. His decision was clear. “We must go at once.”
As he had predicted, Daphne did not question his knowledge. Instead she said, “I have all at the ready. But should we not send word to Lord Ravenswood? I believe he would want to know what has happened, perhaps even accompany us.”
“If I may beg a pen and paper, I’ll write a brief message to Lord Ravenswood and ask one of your footmen to carry it. But we shall not wait for a reply.”
Daphne had moved to a desk at the side of the room. At these words, though, she turned back to the manservant. “Eugene, I am not comfortable leaving without giving Lord Ravenswood the facts and allowing him a chance to reply. Besides, he may be able to assist us.”
“I am afraid Lord Ravenswood is not available just now,” Eugene fibbed, knowing his master would not call on Mr. Blenkinsopp for another hour or more. But he could not run the risk of anything interfering with their immediate departure.
Daphne was uncertain. She laid out the pen and paper neatly on the desk and asked, “Where is he? Cannot we send word he is needed urgently?”
Eugene took a deep breath, feeling trapped. In order to get his wise lady back, he must tell Miss Kendall the painful truth. Otherwise she would send for the earl.
“It would be awkward. You see, he has gone to ask Mr. Blenkinsop for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Daphne’s face paled. She clutched the back of the desk chair. Eugene hastened to her side, mentally cursing the distress his words were causing her.
“I see,” she whispered. “Certainly the earl must not be disturbed.”
She blinked, then swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. The effect of Eugene’s words was shattering. Although she had judged the earl about to offer for Miss Blenkinsop, somehow hearing it confirmed extinguished any spark of hope she had left.
“Ah, Biggs, just in time.” Daphne moved away from the desk to accept the green cloak and a small traveling valise the maid handed her. “Tell James I wish to see him.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room.
Daphne glanced back at the sofa where Mihos lay, and paused. She put down her cloak and bag, and walked over to the cat. “I believe the time has come for us to part, Mihos.”
The striped cat raised his head and stared into her eyes.
She reached out and scratched the top of his head, an action sure to please. “Remember I told you last night our time together was near an end? Well, it seems I was right. You must go home to Lord Ravenswood now.”
Mihos raised a paw and began to stretch it out in the direction of Daphne’s chin, but before he could do so, she grasped it gently and gave it a quick little kiss.
She rose and saw James standing in the doorway. She gave orders for him to assign another footman the task of safely returning the cat to Lord Ravenswood immediately. James nodded and hastened away.
Whirling around to face Eugene, Daphne lifted her chin, tears sparkling in her eyes. “As soon as your note is written, we shall leave. I shall await you in the coach.” She picked up her cloak and bag, and hurried from the room.
Eugene crossed to the cat. Mihos had risen to a sitting position and stared after Daphne. “You must not worry, little tiger. You have a job to do. It is your duty to guard Bastet while I am gone.”
Mihos sat a little straighter.
Satisfied with this answer, Eugene walked over to the desk. He sat down and tried to compose his thoughts. An inner torment gnawed at him, and he stared down at the blank paper.
All of a sudden, his expression lightened. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps there might still be a chance for his master and Miss Kendall. He carefully chose his words and began to write.
Chapter Twelve
About an hour later, Lord Ravenswood stood in the hall of his town house, dressed in a dark blue coat of superfine and buff-colored pantaloons.
He had deliberately delayed paying his call on Mr. Blenkinsopp until the morning was advanced, correctly surmising that Miss Blenkinsop was not an early riser.
However, it was apparent that, at least for this morning, the girl had woken some time ago. While breakfasting, Anthony had received a note from Mrs. Blenkinsop, saying they awaited his promised call with the greatest of anticipation.
Frowning into the hall mirror, his lordship’s mood could best be described as resigned. He would go to the Blenkinsops and have done with the matter once and for all.
If the truth were told, at the moment his thoughts dwelled more on Eugene’s failure to attend him that morning. This unprecedented negligence raised his curiosity, as well as his ire. Mrs. Ware told him that Eugene had come into the kitchen for tea earlier and then left the house by the back door. When questioned, none of the other servants knew of Eugene’s whereabouts.
Anthony decided he would deal with Eugene later. Giving a final adjustment to his cravat, he accepted his hat and stick from Pomfret and moved toward the front portal. The butler opened the door to a day that matched the earl’s mood. The weather was cloudy and dismal.
Just as Anthony prepared to step outside, a familiar growling meow and raised voices came from the hall behind him. He turned back at once.
The source of the altercation was a footman in Miss Kendall’s livery, who struggled with a twitching, jerking, covered basket. The servant had one hand at the bottom of the container, and the other pressed firmly down on the wicker lid. Angry protests emitted from the basket.
The young man looked up at the earl’s appearance and bowed. “My lord, I ’ave your cat and a message for you.”
Anthony handed his hat and stick back to Pomfret before addressing Daphne’s servant. “You may put the basket down.”
The footman appeared greatly relieved as he complied with the request. He placed the basket on the floor and then jumped away as if in fear of attack from the occupant.
Instantly Mihos’s head appeared through the top of the basket, followed by the rest of his body. Hopping out onto the tiled floor, the cat gave a disgusted shake of first one, then the other hind leg. He saw the earl and trotted over to rub against his boots. Anthony bent and scooped the animal into his arms.
“Lor’,” the footman was moved to say. “It’s plain ’e likes you, sir. We weren’t so lucky at Miss Kendall’s. As soon as we gots the basket out, it was like ’e knew ’e was about to be trapped. ’E flew off, runnin’ all over the ’ouse. Took ’amish, the cook, that is, and Mrs. Biggs and me almost an ’our to get ’im in that there basket.”
Anthony’s mouth twisted in a grin at the picture the footman painted. But stay a moment. Why had Miss Kendall sent Mihos to him? “Did you say you have a message for me?”
“Oh, yes, my lord.” The footman fished around in his pocket. “Miss Kendall says it’s time to return the cat to you, but y
our servant, Eugene by name, sent you this.” He handed the earl a folded square of paper.
Eugene? The manservant was at Miss Kendall’s? Anthony shifted Mihos and the letter to one arm, reached into his coat pocket, and handed some coins to the footman. Pomfret led the young man away.
Alone in the hall, Anthony walked over to a side table and gently deposited Mihos on the shining wood surface. “What is going on, Mihos? Where is Eugene, and what possessed Miss Kendall to return you? Have you done something unpardonable?”
“Grraow,” Mihos denied, his tail flicking.
“Watch that bowl,” Lord Ravenswood told him, struggling to open the missive and mind the cat. “It is very special to me, as it features a likeness of Raven’s Hall.”
The cat rubbed his jaw against the bowl’s rim, and the earl elbowed him away.
Finally, having gotten the paper open, he gazed down at Eugene’s painstakingly printed letter.
Master,
I beg a thousand pardons for leaving you like this. Terrible things have happened to Miss Kendall and Miss Shelby. I fear for their very lives. I shall do my humble best to save them.
Your servant, Eugene
P.S. We are with the gypsies from the fair.
Anthony read the note twice. Shock held him motionless, and apprehension squeezed his heart. “What on earth am I supposed to make of this cryptic message?”
Mihos paid him no attention. He was intent on sniffing the inside of the bowl.
The earl pounded a fist on die table, startling Mihos, and making the precious bowl jump a few inches toward the table’s edge. “The devil! Damn Eugene for not explaining the predicament clearly. Are Miss Kendall and Miss Shelby in real danger?”
Or was this one of Eugene’s machinations? God knew he and Miss Shelby could take fancies into their heads that any person of sense would condemn as ridiculous.
What was he to do now?
His heart told him to speed to Miss Kendall’s aid.
He glanced at the hall clock. The Blenkinsops were waiting for him, his mind argued. He was already dressed for a call, not for riding. Surely he would not be above a half an hour at the Blenkinsops, and then he could ride out to the area around High Jones to locate the gypsy camp and find out what the deuce was going on.
Lord and Master Page 17
