by Jen Turano
“Your grandmother brought up that very same argument, sir,” Stanley began. “But when your mother tried—and very graciously, I might add—to cancel the event, the ladies, each and every one of them, turned . . . suspicious.”
“Why would anyone’s suspicions be roused simply from an event being canceled?” Bram asked.
“I think it might have had something to do with your grandmother implying you were soon to make an announcement,” Mr. Skukman said, speaking up.
“What?” Lucetta and Bram asked together.
Mr. Skukman’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Mrs. Hart seems determined to see you well settled, Miss Plum, and I think she may have planted that particular seed for her daughter’s benefit—so that Mrs. Haverstein will have time to adjust to the idea of you and Mr. Haverstein making a match of it.”
“We have no intention of making a match of it,” Lucetta said firmly.
“There’s no need to declare that quite so adamantly,” Bram mumbled.
Lucetta sent him a smile. “Forgive me, Bram. You and I have agreed to become friends, and that was hardly friendly of me, was it? Still, I’ve seen Abigail maneuver events to her satisfaction before, and we cannot let our guard down—not when it’s now become clear she’s still determined to see us well settled, and well settled together.”
“I believe the two of you would make a lovely couple,” Stanley said, sending a smile to Lucetta before he sent a not-so-subtle wink to Bram.
Bram cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you for that, Stanley, but my grandmother’s matchmaking schemes aside, we still can’t host an event. We can’t chance Lucetta being recognized.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lucetta said with an airy wave of her hand. “I’m very good at disguise, and quite honestly, I’ve never been invited to attend a local theatrical event before, and I find the very idea of that intriguing.”
Bram’s eyes narrowed on Lucetta’s face. “You can’t go to it.”
“Of course I can. As I just mentioned, I’m a master at disguise. No one will have the faintest idea that a notorious New York actress is in their midst.”
Bram’s eyes narrowed another fraction. “You wouldn’t happen to be considering trying out for a part, would you?”
“Is that how it works?” she asked. “How marvelous. I’m now quite curious to discover whether or not I’ll be able to win a part if no one knows that I’m Lucetta Plum.”
Bram slowed his steps. “Absolutely not.”
Unwilling to continue the argument, especially since she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Bram Haverstein possessed a bit of a stubborn streak, Lucetta turned to Mr. Skukman and abruptly changed the subject. “I find myself curious about that sword, Mr. Skukman. Why, you look as if you’re about ready to join a swashbuckling brigade of pirates. All you’re missing is a patch like the one Bram was wearing when we first met him. Might it be that you’ve found a band of motley pirates here at Ravenwood, and that they’re practicing their pirating skills in the hope that they’ll win a part in this upcoming theatrical event?”
Mr. Skukman sent her a look that suggested he thought she’d lost her mind. “No, I’ve not found a band of pirates here, nor would I even consider joining them if I had. Although”—he shot a look to Bram—“practicing up for a theatrical role would explain why you were wearing that patch when, clearly, you didn’t need one.”
“Ah . . . hmm . . .” was Bram’s only reply to that, making him, in Lucetta’s opinion, seem almost guilty about something.
Before she could question him, though, Mr. Skukman returned his attention to her. “As for what I’m really doing with the sword, strange as this is most likely going to sound—it fell off a ledge in the fireplace chute, almost impaling poor Mrs. Macmillan in the process.”
Lucetta came to an immediate stop, as did Bram and Stanley, although the sheep and dogs continued moving forward. “I beg your pardon?”
“That sword fell out of what fireplace?” Bram asked, now looking closely at the sword in Mr. Skukman’s hand, right before he shot a look that could only be described as darkly significant to Stanley—although what was behind the significance, Lucetta had no idea.
“The fireplace in the tower room Miss Plum is currently using,” Mr. Skukman said with a sad shake of his head. “It’s a troubling situation to be sure, sir, especially since, if you inspect the sword closely, there appears to be droplets of dried blood on it.”
“Good heavens,” Lucetta breathed.
“Indeed” was apparently the only response Mr. Skukman thought necessary.
“But . . . what was Mrs. Macmillan doing in the fireplace?” Bram asked slowly.
Mr. Skukman nodded in clear approval. “Excellent question, sir, and one I asked her myself, after I’d made certain she hadn’t suffered a wound when the sword crashed down on top of her.”
“And her reply was . . . ?” Bram prompted when Mr. Skukman seemed to get lost in thought.
Shaking himself ever so slightly, Mr. Skukman shrugged. “That’s a bit difficult to explain, sir. Quite honestly, I found the entire situation to be rather curious. From what I could gather, Mrs. Macmillan was originally upset because she’d learned Miss Plum and I had been searching for a secret passageway. For some reason, she came to the conclusion that I’d caused damage to the fireplace, which is how she explained what she was doing in there. However, after the sword fell, and I ducked back into the fireplace to assess if any real damage had actually been done, I noticed a loose stone a foot or so above my head, and that is when Mrs. Macmillan turned downright difficult. She ordered me out of the fireplace. But since I’ve never been one to take ridiculous orders, I went ahead and pulled out the stone, finding something concerning hidden behind it.”
Mr. Skukman handed Stanley the sword, reached into his pocket, and pulled out what appeared to be a diamond-and-emerald-encrusted necklace. Holding it up, he arched a brow Bram’s way. “Any thoughts as to why this would have been hidden in the tower fireplace?”
Bram reached out to touch the necklace Mr. Skukman was displaying. “You say you found it behind a loose stone?”
“I did, which does seem to suggest it was put there for a reason.”
Lucetta took the necklace from Mr. Skukman and looked it over. “How interesting. It’s a piece by Tiffany, because that’s Tiffany’s mark on the back, and . . . I don’t think it’s very old.” She handed the necklace to Bram. “If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say what we’re looking at is a piece of stolen goods.”
“An interesting conclusion,” Bram said slowly.
“Indeed, and we mustn’t forget the sword,” Lucetta reminded him. “It might have been used to pull off the jewelry caper.”
“I doubt that,” Bram mumbled under his breath before he lifted his head and sent her a strained smile. “But even though this is a morning of revelations, we’re quickly nearing the castle, which means further speculation about what dropped out of the fireplace will need to wait for a later time, since we apparently have a houseful of ladies taking tea at the moment.” He nodded to Mr. Skukman. “You’ll see Lucetta inside, and keep her from being seen by our guests?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” Bram said before he turned to Lucetta. “If you’ll excuse me, I do believe it might be for the best if I were to go have a word with my staff.” He turned and walked away without another word, slipping the necklace into his jacket pocket. Stanley walked off as well, carrying the sword.
“Are you going to contact the authorities?” Lucetta called after Bram, her question having him turn back to her.
“I don’t think there’s any need for that quite yet.”
“A bloody sword dropped out of your fireplace, along with a mysterious necklace from Tiffany & Company . . .” she reminded him.
“I’m hardly likely to forget that, Lucetta.” With that, Bram turned around again and walked rapidly away even as he began discussing something with Stanley, their voices so low
that Lucetta couldn’t hear a single word of what they were saying.
As the two men disappeared from sight, Mr. Skukman released a sigh. “I don’t mean to come across as the bearer of gloom and doom, but I’m coming to the conclusion that, not only does Ravenwood seem to be a haven for neglected and abandoned animals, it might also be a haven for criminals.”
As Lucetta took Mr. Skukman’s arm, she found she couldn’t disagree, especially since she’d just been coming to that very same conclusion.
13
By the time he got the sheep safely situated in the barn, made certain the dogs had clean water and food to eat, spent time with Geoffrey—his far too neurotic goat that had shown back up in the barn but was shaking from head to hoof—an hour had passed since he’d parted ways with Lucetta. During that hour, he’d had plenty of time to think, the result of that thinking leaving him feeling distinctly disappointed.
Someone in his employ had obviously reverted back to their old ways, and in so doing, had brought scrutiny to Ravenwood—and scrutiny by the authorities, if Lucetta had her way.
The last thing he or his staff wanted was scrutiny.
Stashing the sword in an obscure corner of the barn, even as he patted his jacket pocket to make certain the necklace was still there, Bram made his way outside and trekked up the steep path that led to the back of his castle. By the time he reached the manicured lawn of Ravenwood, his mood could only be described as dismal.
The very idea that someone had abused his trust and had hidden what was clearly a stolen necklace in his home was almost too much to take in.
He’d given the members of his staff an opportunity for a second chance, pulled them out of the meanest tenements in the city and had only asked that they put their criminal ways behind them in return.
He was fairly certain that stealing a necklace and then stashing it in a fireplace was not exactly abiding by the rules he’d set up.
Trudging across the lawn, he suddenly heard what sounded like giggling. A desire to avoid the source of the giggles at all costs had him darting behind an ostentatious statue of a winged beast that Stanley liked to tell visitors came alive at night and flew about the towers. Peering around the beast’s wing, he found a group of young ladies—all dressed in ivory day dresses and twirling matching parasols—meandering over the cobblestones of the formal courtyard. They kept looking this way and that, and knowing full well that what they were looking for was him, he pulled back and decided his only option, since he was in no frame of mind to participate in idle chitchat, or fend off the attentions of young ladies with marriage on their minds, was to wait them out.
Sinking to the ground, he leaned back against the statue . . . and stifled a yelp a moment later when a young lady suddenly appeared right in front of him—a young lady, it turned out, he wasn’t opposed to seeing, until she opened her mouth.
“I see you’re embracing a cowardly attitude today,” Ruby said before she plopped down next to him. “It was fortunate for you that I told those young ladies that you like to spend time in the gazebo past the reflecting pond. That information was undoubtedly why they didn’t see you over here, focused as they seemed to be on finding that gazebo.”
“You told them I spend time in the gazebo?”
“They were beginning to annoy Grandmamma, and you must have realized by now that she’s not a woman one wants to annoy.” Ruby shuddered before she smiled. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re actually in the gazebo at the moment since you’re clearly hiding here.”
“If you’ve forgotten how to count, sister dear, allow me to point out that there are six young ladies now strolling around Ravenwood’s lawn. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say they’re all unmarried. You’d take to hiding too if you were a man and were facing that many threats to your bachelorhood.”
“Yes, it must be quite the trial to be so sought after.”
Remorse was immediate. Reaching out, Bram rubbed Ruby’s arm. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, somewhat amusing young lady—when you’re not exasperating me, that is. You’ll find your special someone someday.”
“I wasn’t aware we’d changed the subject to me.”
“Weren’t you?”
Ruby blew out a breath. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to come across as a bitter shrew all the time. I clearly haven’t come to terms with Geoffrey Jensen rejecting me in such a cavalier fashion, and for a snooty lady of society, no less. Since I didn’t begin an association with him until I was twenty, and with all the time I wasted on him, I’m now, much to my dismay, twenty-three—and well on my way to being considered firmly on the shelf.”
“You were never a young lady to embrace the idea of marrying directly out of school, Ruby. If I need remind you, you spent two years touring Europe after school, and only began spending time with Geoffrey because so many of your younger friends were getting married.”
She sent him a rather sweet smile. “I did enjoy touring Europe.”
“Of course you did. And returning to the being-on-the-shelf business, from what I’ve been told, you’ve already come up with a plan to change that dastardly situation, a plan that will see you squired about town on the arm of Mr. Grimstone.”
Ruby smiled. “Ah, it seems you’ve encountered Miss Plum this afternoon. I was so hoping you wouldn’t hide away from her forever after that ill-advised marriage proposal you extended her.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Ruby, but I didn’t seek Lucetta out. I was perfectly content to hide away from her as long as possible, but she ran across me in the far pasture, where I’d taken the dogs to run through their paces with the sheep.”
“You do know how to spend a fun afternoon. But be that as it may, I’m still glad you got to speak with her.” Ruby’s smile widened. “May I assume the two of you have come to some type of an understanding?”
“I think it’s safe to assume Lucetta and I aren’t going to wed.”
Ruby reached out and patted his arm. “I wouldn’t give up all hope just yet, Bram. I, probably more than anyone—since I’ve attended so many of her performances with you—know how long you’ve held Lucetta in high esteem. Quite frankly, now that I’ve met the real Lucetta, I do believe she’s entirely more fascinating than everyone, myself included, assumed her to be.”
Frowning, Bram tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I think she’s far more accomplished then she lets on, seems to be incredibly intelligent, and . . . I didn’t get the impression that she’s overly concerned with her appearance, which, coming from a lady as beautiful as Lucetta, is well and truly telling.” She smiled. “And, she’s definitely not fragile, nor does she seem to be the weepy type. I always expected her to be weepy for one reason or another.”
Bram nodded. “I thought she would be weepy as well, but that certainly doesn’t seem to be the case. Truth be told, now that I consider the matter, she seems very similar to you, except for the whole shrew business. I don’t get the impression Lucetta is much of a shrew.”
“You find me as accomplished as Miss Lucetta Plum?” Ruby asked slowly.
“Of course you are. You’ve taken over a large chunk of the investments for the family. And according to my bank account, you’re very good at buying and trading in the financial market.”
“Stocks are easy, Bram. You’d do well with investments too if you’d simply put your mind to it.”
“I’m not really one for numbers—or any other normal business endeavor, for that matter.”
“And that right there is the crux of your problems,” Ruby said as she wrinkled her nose. “Do you know that Mother is now under the impression that you’ve been spending your time here at Ravenwood pursuing endeavors of an illegal nature?”
“What?”
Ruby blew out a breath. “She’ll be very annoyed with me if she discovers I’ve told you this, but . . . quite honestly, I’m getting a little tired of listening to her many and varied suspicions. At this very moment, she’s decided that y
ou’re playing Robin Hood—you know, stealing from the rich to give to the poor.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Rolling her eyes, Ruby shook her head. “I suppose her believing you’re a Robin Hood type is better than what she thought just yesterday—that you hire questionable employees to further your own criminal pursuits. But since Mr. Skukman pulled that necklace out of the fireplace today, Mother’s now convinced you spend your time breaking into society members’ homes, stealing a few items here and there, and then spreading the wealth around.”
“That’s ridiculous, unless . . . There haven’t been a rash of robberies in this area of late, have there?” he asked slowly.
Ruby shook her head. “I haven’t heard of any, nor has Mother mentioned anything about robberies.”
A sense of relief swept over Bram, but before he could question Ruby further about the matter, she took to completely changing the subject.
“What do you think of that Mr. Skukman?”
“Ah, well, he seems to be a dependable sort, from what little I can tell, although he doesn’t speak much. But . . . getting back to Mother—why do you suppose she’s been under the belief I’m up to no good?”
“It’s either think you’re up to no good, or think you’re aimless without a purpose in life.”
“I have purpose in my life.”
Ruby arched a single dark brow his way.
“I am not playing Robin Hood” was the only response he could think of to say.
“That was convincing.”
He shifted on the hard ground. “I’m not.”
“Then what have you been doing all these years since you left the university, Bram? You certainly never continued on with pursuing your law degree, and . . . no one seems to know what you do to pass the time during any given day.”
“I rarely have enough hours in a day to complete everything I need to accomplish.”
Ruby’s other brow rose to join the first one. “If you’re not up to illegal activities, explain the necklace.”
