To Catch A Thief (Saved By Desire 2)

by Rebecca King

  “Where are you going at two o’clock in the morning?” she whispered aloud, knowing there was now nobody in the house to hear her.

  Hurrying through to the kitchen, she stood on tiptoe to peer out of the back window and watched Delilah disappear into the trees at the back of the house.

  “What do you have there then?” Sophia asked, eyeing the dark, neatly wrapped bundle her aunt carried.

  To begin with, she was tempted to follow, but knew she wouldn’t be able to come up with an explanation if she stumbled upon her aunt outside so remained where she was. Eager to see if Delilah had taken the stolen items with her, Sophia raced upstairs to her aunt’s room. It didn’t come as any surprise when she opened the drawer to Delilah’s dresser, which had once contained the stolen items, and found it empty.

  “Have you taken them to hide them where I can’t find them, or are you meeting someone?”

  There was only one way of finding out what her aunt was up to. She had to go out there and see for herself. Quickly slipping her boots on, she drew her thickest cloak around her, and paid particular attention to hiding the brilliant white material of her nightgown. Once the hood was tugged over her hair, Sophia quietly let herself out of the side door but, before she could follow, Delilah re-emerged out of the trees and headed back to the house.

  Sophia quickly slipped back inside and hid in the downstairs cupboard while she waited for her aunt to go back to bed. Her heart pounded as the minutes ticked by. Her ears strained for sounds of movement outside but, apart from the faint rustle of clothing, she could hear nothing. She prayed that her aunt wouldn’t use the cupboard to store her soiled boots in, and edged toward the furthest corner of the closet to wait.

  Eventually, the quiet creaks and groans of the stairs protesting beneath Delilah’s weight broke the silence. Sophia puffed out her cheeks and remained perfectly still while she listened for the quiet click of Delilah’s bedroom door. She waited a few minutes longer, just to make sure that her aunt had gone to bed, and let herself out of the cupboard.

  It was only when she was about to close the door behind her that she realised someone had been in the closet lately. The box of candles that used to sit on the shelf now rested on the floor. In its place on the shelf was another, much larger box. Her hand shook as she lifted the unusually heavy box down and took a peek inside.

  “I need a candle,” she muttered.

  Once a candle had been lit, she returned to the closet to take a look inside the box suspecting that she already knew what it contained. Not everything that had been in the drawer upstairs was there, but the majority of Delilah’s stolen hoard was now tucked away in the box, secreted in a place where actually, only Delilah usually ever went.

  “Damn you, Delilah.”

  Sophia scowled as she slid the box back into position on the shelf and quietly crept back to bed. It was only when she threw the covers back over her legs that she realised the parchment was still downstairs, in the bureau, the top of which had stupidly been left open. Delilah would know she had been in there, and had seen the newly stolen items, if she happened to go into the drawing room before Sophia did. What then?

  Would Delilah move the rest of the stolen goods out of the house?

  That thought led Sophia to wonder what Delilah had taken into the woods and why. It was two o’clock in the morning; not the usual time to be making social calls. If she was meeting with someone, it wasn’t anyone reputable, of that Sophia had no doubt. Delilah hadn’t been in the woods long enough to hide the package anywhere, and certainly hadn’t taken anything with which to dig a hole.

  So what on earth had she been doing? Some of the items had gone, but had Delilah handed them over to someone waiting in the woods? If so, who?

  Sophia’s worries increased tenfold as she thought about the rest of the items in the box. She knew they were stolen. The right thing to do would be to return them to their rightful owners, assuming Delilah knew who they were and was prepared to hand them back. That thought led her on to wonder how on earth she could return them without admitting she had taken them in the first place?

  With a deep sigh, Sophia threw the covers off her legs and hurried back downstairs. Once she had the required items to write a letter to Hooky, and the bureau lid was closed, she made her way back to bed.

  Unfortunately, sleep was a very long time coming.

  The following morning, tired, grumpy, and in no mood for any more of Delilah’s social functions, Sophia made her way downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Delilah appeared to be still in bed, even though it was lunchtime. Pleased to have some time alone with her thoughts, Sophia began to prepare luncheon, but made no attempt to keep the noise down. Eventually, the banging and clattering of the pots and pans had the desired effect, and a somewhat dishevelled Delilah appeared in the doorway.

  “Darling, am I to take it that you are not in a good mood this morning?” Delilah drawled as she sauntered into the kitchen.

  Sophia glared at her and lifted a querulous brow. No, she was most definitely not in a good mood this morning. Rather than answer in her usual sunny way, Sophia snorted and slammed a cup onto the table. She turned her attention back to the bread she was in the process of hacking to pieces, aware that her aunt had seen the two stolen trinket boxes sitting right in the centre of the table. The silence behind her was deafening.

  “I think you had better explain,” Sophia ground out coldly. “We both know where they have come from, so don’t try to deny it. Given that you have at least ten of these upstairs in that drawer, you really don’t need any more. I can only assume these have been stolen to sell.”

  Confirmation came from the way Delilah sat stony-faced and silent.

  Last night, once she had written the letter to Hooky to explain what was happening, sleep had completely eluded Sophia. She had tossed and turned all night, right up until the moment dawn had broken over the horizon. Even then she had fallen into a fitful doze that had left her far from rested, because she had been at a complete loss to know what to do.

  “Do you realise what trouble you will be in if anyone sees these?” She snapped when Delilah remained uncommunicative.

  For the first time in her life, Sophia actually wanted to physically shake another living person. It was so uncharacteristic of her that it fuelled her temper even more, especially when she saw the cold disinterest on her aunt’s face.

  Did Delilah not care about the turmoil she had thrown her niece’s life into?

  Apparently not Sophia mused as she stared at her aunt’s icy features.

  “Well, if you don’t want them to be found, why did you leave them in the middle of the table?” Delilah snapped suddenly. Before Sophia could reply, she snatched them up and returned them to the bureau. “They are not yours. This is nothing to do with you.”

  “And they are not yours either,” Sophia countered.

  “This is nothing to do with you,” Delilah repeated.

  “It has everything to do with me. I am a Carney too. Anything you do has an impact on me. If you get arrested for stealing from such reputable people then the entire family’s name is cast into ill repute. Do you not care?”

  Delilah tossed her head back. “Why should I? The only reason you are here is because Hooky sent you to tell me to stop spending money he would rather keep for himself.”

  Sophia gasped at the unfairness of the accusation.

  “That is not true,” she protested loudly. “You never come to see us. Apart from the occasional letter, none of the family has seen you for nearly an entire year. What else was I supposed to do? You mentioned on a couple of occasions that I was welcome to visit; I didn’t realise you were lying about that too. Hooky has contacted you himself about the state of your finances. You know he has. I just happened to mention it while I was here, that was all.”

  Alright, so it was a slight fabrication, but Delilah wasn’t being entirely honest with her so could hardly expect outright honesty in return.

  “Well, you have se
en me, so it is time for you to go home.”

  “I am not going to allow you to continue to help yourself to things that don’t belong to you. How can you expect me to just go home and forget about something of this magnitude? I know about this now. Do not expect me to lie by covering up your crimes, Delilah. I will not sit idly by and allow you to continue unabated either. You will stop. Or I shall take this to the magistrate. I have seen the stolen items right here in this house. You have been to all of the social occasions when items have been stolen. Each person present last night can attest, quite honestly, that they didn’t take a blessed thing that didn’t belong to them. It is a shame that you cannot say the same.”

  Delilah slumped in her seat.

  “You don’t understand what it is like,” she murmured, suddenly the epitome of a beleaguered soul.

  “What? What don’t I understand?” Sophia would have felt sorry for her aunt; who at first glance appeared quite dejected, but on closer inspection had a calculation in her eyes that just didn’t ring true.

  “I have lived in this house ever since my mother passed away. It is quiet here. I like that. It is wonderful to be able to do what I want, go out when I want, and see whomever I please. However, it can get cold and dull at times. It can be tedious just running this place, keeping the fires going, cooking for one all of the time. So I go out. I enjoy talking to others and don’t deny it.” She drew in a deep breath and looked at Sophia with arrogant defiance in her eyes. “I am not going to stop, no matter what you say. I have a reputation to uphold. It would be a scandal if I were seen out wearing the same half a dozen outfits all the time. I would be just like the Harvell ladies, and it will be a long, cold day in Hades before that happens.”

  It was on the tip of Sophia’s tongue to say, ‘Well, at least, the Miss Harvell are honest,’ but at the last moment kept quiet. At least Delilah was talking now. It wouldn’t do to antagonise her too much or else her aunt wouldn’t be inclined to tell her what she really wanted to know. Like why she was stealing in the first place.

  “You cannot continue to help yourself to items that aren’t yours. As much as you might like to think that you are owed something from someone, you are committing a crime. At some point, someone is going to catch you in the act. What do you intend to do then? You will face a heck of a long time in jail given how much has gone missing.”

  Delilah didn’t argue. Sophia suspected it was because she knew she was right. It was evident to her then that there was no love lost between her and her aunt. In fact, Delilah didn’t seem to like her at all and that, as far as Sophia was concerned, was a testament to just how selfish Delilah could really be. Sophia had never done anything to her aunt to offend her or cause her any upset in any way. There was no reason for her aunt to look on her as scornfully as she was looking at her now. It went some way toward hardening Sophia’s heart against the pretence of solemnity, and continue to probe until she got the answers she needed to make a decision on how best to deal with the matter.

  “So?” Delilah asked after several moments of silence.

  “So, what?” Sophia was bursting with questions, and trying to decide which one to ask first.

  “What do you plan to do now that you know you are sharing the house with a thief? Are you going to scurry off to the magistrate like a dutiful little citizen should? Or are you going to report me to your controlling father?” Although no trace of it showed on Delilah’s face, mockery was evident in her tone.

  “No, I am not going to do anything,” Sophia replied carefully. She mentally shook her head in disgust when Delilah began to smile in triumph. Before her aunt got too confident, Sophia threw her a stern look. “You, however, are.”

  Before Delilah could say anything else, Sophia slid the two trinket boxes across the table.

  “You are going to return them to their rightful owner as soon as possible. I don’t care where you leave them, but they go back. That son of the Lord’s, Jebediah, is far too watchful for his own good. Taking those boxes was a stupid and reckless thing to do right under their noses. It would have served you right if they caught you red-handed. Whatever the risks, you can, and will, take them back to where they belong.” She held her hand up when her aunt took a breath. Sophia knew from the look in her eye that she was going to argue, but wasn’t prepared to listen. “Then you are going to return all of the other stolen items that are left in the house, and then you will stop stealing. Take two or three at a time when you go to these social functions, and leave them somewhere they can be found.”

  “I can’t,” Delilah protested. She looked horrified at the prospect.

  “Yes. You can. You took them quickly enough so you can replace them. If you don’t, I shall take the items straight to the magistrate along with a list of all of the people who have had items stolen. Your arrest shall see to it that you are scorned by everyone in this village. Even if you get a lenient sentence, when you are released you will soon learn that nobody wants a thief in their midst, Delilah. You will find it next to impossible to live somewhere like here then.”

  Sophia watched colour flood her aunt’s face, and knew Delilah was furious. Before she could threaten to throw her out again Sophia stood. The look she levelled on her aunt was far older than her years but stern enough to make Delilah look at her worriedly.

  “Until the items are all returned to their rightful owners -” Sophia declared coldly “- I am going nowhere. Just to make sure you don’t steal anything else, I shall accompany you everywhere you go. From this moment forth, you shall not take any bags, cloaks, or reticules with you whenever you attend your social engagements. You shall only wear dresses, but no pockets, and if I see one item, just one, Delilah, appear in this house that isn’t yours, I am going straight to the magistrate.”

  “You don’t understand,” Delilah protested. “I don’t remember where they all came from. I cannot return anything.”

  Sophia hesitated in the doorway and shook her head because she knew her aunt was lying. She knew who the owner of the trinket boxes was because Delilah had only stolen the boxes last night. Determined that her aunt wouldn’t cower behind any excuse, Sophia scowled at her.

  “Then return them to one of the guests who have had items stolen. The fact they are in their house and they don’t own them will be enough to raise discussions amongst the group the next time they meet. The rightful owner will come forward once they recognise their belongings. Return different items to various guests and then nobody will have the unfair finger of blame pointed at them. You found it easy enough to take them. I am sure you will find it easy enough to return them.”

  “Unless the guests keep the returned items for themselves,” Delilah protested with a sneer. “The Harvells are impoverished, you know.”

  “You are the dishonest one around here, Delilah. Don’t judge everybody by your own base standards.”

  “I can’t do this by myself, Sophia. You must help me.”

  Sophia shook her head. “I didn’t take them. Besides, why should I help you?”

  “You should help me because we are family, Sophia.” Delilah slumped into a chair beside the table and stared blankly at the trinket boxes. “I don’t know where half of the things came from. I just decided to take them on a spur of the moment. You know, once saw them I studied their size, determined whether they would fit in my bag or not, then swiped them once nobody was looking. It can be done very quickly with nobody any the wiser they have gone until I am out of the house and on my way home.”

  “What if someone ever stopped you?” Sophia challenged. “Have you ever considered that? What if someone noticed and questioned you as you were leaving the house?”

  “They won’t. Leaving these places is usually chaos. I time my departure usually to coincide with the Harvells’. They are generally twittering on about stuff and nonsense and divert everybody’s attention nicely. I haven’t been caught yet. Why, the country bumpkins around here have no clue it is me. They just sit at their dinner tables, o
r in their sitting rooms, tattle-tailing about it and wondering. Nobody actually does anything.”

  It disturbed Sophia to see just how proud her aunt appeared to be of her crimes, and wondered if Delilah would ever stop. It all seemed like a strange game of chance to her, only the stakes were considerably higher than she appeared to realise if she ever got caught.

  “Help me,” Delilah pleaded when Sophia didn’t say anything.

  “I am not putting them back for you,” Sophia snorted disparagingly. “You took them so you can return them. It is as simple as that.”

  “But how? Which ones do I take back? I can’t go back to Briggleberry, because other than when I am invited to one of those dinner things, I don’t move in their circles.”

  Sophia wondered if Delilah was being deliberately obstructive. It didn’t take a genius to work it out, but her arguments warned Sophia that her aunt was reluctant to part with the goods now that she had them.

  “We have been invited to take tea next Friday with the Harvells.”

  Before Delilah could come up with another excuse, she hurried to the cupboard under the stairs and returned moments later with the box. Upending the contents in the middle of the table, she rifled through them and selected three brushes. She shoved them roughly across the table at Delilah.

  “Take these with you. Look at the hair stuck in the bristles. This one looks especially like Pearl’s, does it not? And this one here looks like it is the same shade as Mabel’s. They cannot afford to replace items like these. You know how impoverished they are. How could you, Delilah? Does it not matter to you what hardships you place upon people like that? You may consider them country bumpkins, but they are still people. They still have a right to keep their precious belongings to themselves. After all, they have little in the way of monetary value to most people, yet the Harvells have kept them. Doesn’t that strike you that they have special significance to those two nice, if a little eccentric, old ladies?”