The Case of the Secret Love (A Justice and Miss Quinn Mystery Book 3)

by Felicia Rogers

  Roskin massaged his chin. “Then I guess we can’t count him out for the theft.”

  “How dare you!”

  Hesper seemed generally angry that he would be accused. Perhaps she had some feelings for him after all. But he was still baffled by Roskin. He’d just entered, so there was no way he could know about the jewelry theft—unless someone else had told him.

  “What are you doing here, Constable Roskin?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  Smartness. Interesting attitude.

  He shrugged. “I have my suspicions about why you’re here, but since you’ve not been called by us I’m wondering who told you.”

  “I’m here because of Miss Rotherham’s jewelry loss.”

  “That is as I suspected. Now, who told you?”

  Roskin looked confused, shifting his gaze from side to side. No doubt he didn’t know his informant.

  “Perhaps you’re meeting in dark alleys again.”

  Roskin’s eyes darkened and he shook his stubby finger. “Rest assured I will be paying special attention to you from now on.”

  The constable might be seeking revenge for putting him on the spot at Odell or for his comment now. He couldn’t blame the fellow. His livelihood had been endangered often of late.

  Hesper straightened. “Mr. Blakemoor was by my side the entire evening.”

  “Very well, whom do you suspect?” Roskin held his hat in his hand and twisted the brim. Was he nervous? Just because he’d performed his task as constable once didn’t mean he could do it again. In that respect he had a right to be nervous.

  Justin took a piece of paper from a side table and produced a short list. The constable arched a brow. So he didn’t care for the names. Did the constable know more about his employer now than he had before? And what of Roskin’s current informant? How hard should he push for that information?

  “What do you suggest? That I only search out people you believe are responsible?”

  “Of course not. You should investigate everyone in attendance.” Including, Magnolia and her newest interest.

  “As I plan to do.” The constable hitched up his breeches.

  Justin hid his smirk. He’d just removed himself from the top of the suspect list.

  “Upon my arrival Mr. Rotherham described the missing pieces. Now, I’ll visit with those who attended your dinner party and compile my own list.” He shoved his hat upon his head. “Good day.”

  Justin leaned his head back against the chair as the walls vibrated from the constable slamming the front door.

  Hesper walked in front of him. “Now the constable is investigating those who attended the party! Everyone will know that my jewelry is worthless.” She fell to her knees before him and folded her hands on his thigh. “Justin, please, you must help me.”

  Now was his chance to end the fake relationship she’d started.

  He fisted his hands in his lap and brought them to his chin. “What would you have me do?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Find the culprit before the constable and I’ll let you out of our arrangement.”

  “You will?” He was generally surprised at the ease of her agreement.

  “Yes, I will. My farce doesn’t seem to be helping. Father likes you. I should have counted on that. He won’t be happy when I throw you over and say that I’m in love with another, no matter whom that other is.” She sighed and curled a strand of hair around her finger. “This is an absolute disaster. I should have just told Father from the beginning.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Then Magnolia wouldn’t be on the cusp of ruin, and he wouldn’t be destined to be alone.

  She batted her lashes. “Don’t be angry at me. I only want love like everyone else.”

  “Love from Liam Filbee is not like everyone else.” He rose from the chair and poured him a glass of sherry.

  “Liam? But I don’t love—”

  “Hesper!”

  Justin turned toward the door. Mr. Rotherham stood at the entryway. What had Hesper been about to say? The conversation may have been stalled for now, but he would find out. If she didn’t love Liam, then who?

  Chapter Six: Dread

  He sprawled upon the pillows and sipped the hot tea. Any moment Miss Rotherham would arrive. She would tell him of the theft and then things would get more interesting. He couldn’t wait! The research. The information. He could make a fabulous story with what he’d discovered about human nature. The title could be, “Love makes people do crazy things.” Yes, it fit perfectly.

  “There is a knock upon the door.”

  “Please answer it, Eudora.”

  “I am not your personal servant.”

  “Hmm, this is true. But for now your independence depends on me. Father dearest wouldn’t allow you the freedom that I have.”

  She rose from the paisley chair, threw her head back, and flounced out of the room.

  Ah, the young. So passionate, so full of life. That was why he kept her around. She was never boring. But it did make him wonder about his fascination with Miss Rotherham. Perhaps it was the newness of it all. That was it. Just having a new person about made life more interesting.

  He sighed. Ashamed it had to come to an end. But her usefulness had worn out. Doubt had been cast on Justin Blakemoor and Miss Quinn’s reputation without tarnishing his own, and that was what he’d needed from the start. Good ole Hesper had been more than willing to provide the outcome.

  Eudora stood before the entryway. Her spine was stiff and her lips straight-lined. Ah, Miss Rotherham had arrived.

  “Miss Rotherham is here to see you.”

  “Thank you, Eudora. Do send her in.”

  “I am not—”

  He drew his brows together. She couldn’t possibly think to argue with him while they had company. She knew the stakes. Getting caught now was out of the question. He had big plans, plans that didn’t start and end with a few house thefts.

  Her shoulders drooped and she stepped aside. Hesper entered in a flurry of skirts. She glanced at him briefly. He looked like a sheik. Multicolored pillows were piled against the back wall, and he lay upon them. All he needed now was a harem.

  A smile tilted his lips. Maybe one day.

  He took another sip of his drink. “Miss Rotherham, what brings you here today?”

  She bit her lip and looked from side to side. Maybe she sought a place to sit. The only other furniture, the longue that Eudora had abandoned, was covered with blankets. Guess she would have to stand, such a pity. Pleasure at her discomfort was something he would need to explore later. Normally he enjoyed making women comfortable, but Hesper annoyed him greatly.

  “I’ve been robbed!”

  He placed a fluttering hand to his heart and allowed his jaw to drop. The shock felt convincing. “Oh, my dear. How dreadful for you. How is Mr. Blakemoor handling it?” Always bring the conversation back to his adversary. The sooner he brought Justin and Magnolia down, the sooner he would be free to continue his pursuits. With a tarnished reputation, even if they discovered the truth they wouldn’t be believed.

  “Mr. Blakemoor? Oh, he is clueless! He believes I love Mr. Filbee. The thought is preposterous! I tried to tell him the truth but Father interrupted.” She plopped onto a pillow and palmed her chin. Such a petulant child. He really must pick better people to use in the future.

  “Perhaps that is for the best.”

  “What? Don’t you want people to know about us?”

  He cupped her cheek. “Of course I do, but people don’t always accept me.” She seemed mollified, but he needed to change the subject. He needed to know about his own plans. “What else is bothering you, my dear? I know there is more?” Please let there be more.

  She blabbered on about the jewelry theft, and he pretended to listen in rapt horror.

  “The worst part is that the thieves left the good jewelry.”

  “Left the good jewelry…” Would his heart leap from his chest and jump across the floor?


  “Yes. It was in the drawer underneath what was stolen. It was so obvious.” She buried her head in her hands. “I’ll be ruined. No one will want to marry me now.” She lifted her face. Tears streaked her cheeks. She was not a pretty crier. She wiped her nose on the back of her arm. He was going to be sick.

  “But at least I have you. I know that you love me and won’t leave me.” She patted his forearm and he willed himself not to cringe or move away.

  What a disaster. Not only had they stolen the wrong jewelry, but Justin didn’t seem to care. If he didn’t investigate and find that Magnolia had the jewelry, then where did that leave him? Would he be forced to continue the ruse with Hesper? Oh, he hoped not.

  Chapter Seven: Help is on the Way

  “So you believe you can find her?”

  Magnolia studied maps and pictures of America while Evander leaned over her shoulder. She wanted to help him but his constant talking was driving her mad. Justin would have known when to be quiet and let her concentrate.

  She placed her hand on Evander’s forearm. “I’m not sure, but I’ll try.” She pointed to the items spread before her. “These are pictures that were taken and sent back to England. I had a friend from the London library bring them over. I’m assuming that your Rose would have painted someplace well known if she was leaving a message so that you could find her, otherwise why do the painting at all?”

  “Right.” His grin broadened.

  She shuffled the papers. “So far I’ve went through about half the pictures. I do think it would help if I could study the painting a little more.”

  Evander took a step back and paced the parlor. “That might be a problem.”

  “But, why? Don’t you know the person who owns it?”

  “Not exactly.” He scratched his left brow. It was his nervous habit. Justin ran his hand through his hair, Evander scratched his brow.

  “I don’t understand.” Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  “Well, it belongs to Rose’s father. He only put it on display at his friend’s home for the one day.”

  “Why can’t you just ask to see it again?” She sensed she wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Because he blames me for her disappearance.”

  “Ah.” Now it made sense. The father probably believed that his daughter was still hidden in India and Evander wasn’t telling him.

  “In fact the painting being displayed was the only reason I stayed in England. I desire to rid myself of this place, but I couldn’t, not if there was a chance to find Rose.” He fell at her feet, hands clasped. “I’m sorry for my deception.”

  She cupped his cheek. Tanned and smooth. “Do not be worried, I understand. We often do things for those we love that we wouldn’t do otherwise.”

  He settled on his behind and crossed his legs. The gent was limber.

  “If you find the location of my Rose then I’ll be off to America.”

  She sighed. “I’ll do my best.”

  Magnolia attempted to draw what she’d seen in the painting. Details stood out in her mind. A particular flower that floated on the water. A distinct cloud formation. The deep green of the grass and leaves. The angle of the sun. She tapped her quill to her bottom lip. Shadows. There had been no shadows.

  Furiously she sketched the scene. Clues were there, if only she knew what they meant.

  Wind lifted the drapes and she shivered. Perhaps she should procure her shawl? She grabbed it from the back of the longue and swung it onto her shoulders. Dirt flew across her skirt as a potted plant rocked and fell over.

  “Oh, hogwash.”

  Evander cocked a brow. No doubt her strong language had surprised him, but how could he begin to understand her frustration? Lenoir was busy preparing a meal. No other servants had been procured. It would be up to her to clean the floor.

  She squatted and scooped dirt into her hand. Something hard and brown caught her eye. It was a stone of some kind. The plant tittered further and fell forward. Drab gems and rusted metal charms cascaded onto the floor.

  Jewelry. In her plant.

  This was not good.

  ****

  Justin collapsed in a high-backed chair. Hesper had left over an hour ago. It seemed like a small blessing, but it was profound. Her twittering made it almost impossible to think.

  The drab colors in the library matched his mood, and the jewelry that had gone missing. Apparently Mrs. Rotherham, Hesper’s mother, had expressed a certain taste for the boring and common. Hesper had kept her jewelry in the top drawer out of a sense of duty.

  Now those gems were loose in the wind. Someone had taken them, but for what purpose? And the perpetrator had to have known that an invite to the celebration would label them a suspect. It made no sense.

  Cool air struck his face. Inside the open library door stood the constable. His chest heaved as if he’d been running. He held one hand over his heart and the other in the air as if he wanted Justin to wait. Justin crossed his legs.

  “I-I only made it to my office and—” He drew in another deep breath.

  Justin crossed his arms over his chest. Should he call for Hesper to return? No, this was information he wanted to keep secret. For now.

  “A-a messenger left this.”

  The constable handed over a slip of paper. A sideways eight was embedded in the wax seal. Justin parted the paper carefully. A fine scrawl decorated the inside page. He carried it to a candle. If the evidence incriminated him, it might accidentally fall into the flame.

  “Well read it.” The constable held to the back of the chair. At least he was standing upright now.

  Justin cleared his throat.

  “White blossoms on a tree,

  Jewelry in a bag,

  Find the thief you seek,

  By looking at a poor hag.”

  His throat constricted.

  “What does it mean?”

  Justin didn’t answer. If he was correct in his assumptions, the poem referred to Magnolia. Her name meant white blossom. The poor hag referred to names that were circulating about her current status.

  But why would she have stolen Hesper’s jewelry? Jealousy? He could only hope. Revenge? He doubted it. Money?

  Money was the most likely excuse. If the accusation was linked to her, then the court could use that as her motive. He must throw Roskin off the trail and see her at once.

  “Constable Roskin, this is pure gibberish.”

  “Well we found Thornton because of a note.”

  Another fine example of notes not leading in a proper direction. “True, but this time I have doubts. Why don’t you take the note home and ponder it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Is there something more?” He tried to look casual, but his gut tensed. Could Roskin tell?

  “Maybe.” Roskin studied his feet. What was he hiding? “I know the mark in the wax.”

  “You do?” Now the constable had his attention.

  “It belongs to the one who pulled my strings, so to speak.”

  “What?” How could that be? The constable’s employer was helping him find the thief?

  “It is like a calling card. It has been at every crime scene, even Thornton’s, which is why—”

  He was breathless. “You assumed he was responsible.”

  “Yes.”

  “But obviously you were incorrect because it is now on this seal and Basil is under house arrest.”

  Roskin looked properly chastised.

  “So your master is still free and is trying to pin a theft on ‘a poor hag.’” What kind of trouble was Magnolia in now?

  “It appears so.” Roskin poured a drink and downed it one gulp.

  Rotherham’s liquor cabinet didn’t stand a chance.

  “Still want me to take the note?”

  “I do. Because you are the constable.”

  Roskin puffed out his chest. Good. Let him believe he said it because of pride instead of sarcasm. Roskin was the best one to study the note because he�
�d never figure out its secrets.

  ****

  It took Justin an hour to escape the constable’s presence. He went home first. Father was out so he was able to slip in one door and out the other with minimal effort and no encounters. He had to be careful. He didn’t want anyone following him.

  The front entrance to Magnolia’s home was on the major thoroughfare so he took a chance and went to the back door. Lenoir rushed around the room placing hot dishes on the chopping block. He waited until her hands were free and then knocked. She jumped and grabbed her chest. Apparently he hadn’t been visible enough.

  He mouthed sorry, and she opened the door.

  “Sorry, Lenoir, but I must see Miss Quinn.”

  “She’s in the parlor.”

  He bowed and left. The quiet hallway reminded him of a mausoleum—quiet as if it housed the dead. He’d visited one with Father long ago. It was a memory he wished he could erase.

  The parlor door was open. He should have asked Lenoir if her lady had company. He didn’t know how he’d feel if he walked in on a private tryst between his love and Evander. Probably not well.

  He slowed his progress. At the door he leaned around the facing.

  Magnolia was on her knees hanging over a huge square paper covered in doodles. Her normally arranged hair drooped toward the floor. The fireplace was empty and a cold chill spread throughout the room.

  Her head lifted. Black circles rimmed her eyes. What had happened to her?

  He eased forward and squatted before her. “Magnolia?”

  She sat back and swooped the hair from her eyes. “Justin, what are you doing here? Did you find out about the gems?”

  He narrowed his eyes. So she had stolen Hesper’s jewelry. What was he going to do now?

  She pointed toward the window. “They were buried in the plant. I presume someone put them there to frame me. But now that I’ve found them I don’t know what to do. How did you know?”

  The assault ended and he tried to gather his wits. She’d found the gems? “Where are they now?”

  “Safe.”