Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,123

thief.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Word from Lady Macroun’s Forde Hall is that Lady W__’s sister is not with her. One can’t help wondering if Miss S__ was invited to Marshfield Manor instead.”

-The Gazette

Julia gasped. Her heart started to gallop, and at the same time, the blood drained from her head. She feared she might faint, but then realized she’d never fainted in her life and wasn’t about to start. Instead, deciding that turning heel and running would be a better course of action, she took a step backward about to pivot on her silk slipper.

“Miss Sudbury,” Jasper called out to her, and she halted.

He wouldn’t keep her there if those men were attempting to haul her off to the magistrate’s court or worse, directly to Newgate. Not out of spite from a missed tupping! Would he?

Lifting her chin, she crossed the hall, which seemed to grow more expansive with every step. Jasper’s expression was wary but not overly concerned.

The men were unfamiliar to her. They were of average height, physically fit, and wearing decidedly serious expressions. Very possibly, they were the same ones who’d pursued her down Grosvenor Square’s west side.

Perhaps fainting would be a good option after all. Surely they wouldn’t take her away in chains if they had to carry her.

“So glad you came along when you did,” Jasper said. “These men were of the mistaken impression you were involved in a jewelry theft.”

“More than one, my lord,” the shorter of the men piped up.

Jasper ignored the interruption. “I was about to explain the implausibility of such a claim.”

Wishing she were dressed normally, instead of in a brocade gown with ruffles and bows and wide skirts, feeling almost like the French queen about to be beheaded, Julia simply nodded.

After all, it wasn’t implausible at all. Their assertion was patently true in fact. What could she say? Better to keep her mouth shut until she had to speak.

“The description,” said the other man, drawing out a small pamphlet, matches this woman’s.” Then he gave her a good once-over, and with utter gravity added, “Although there is nothing in the report about her wearing costumes.”

Ignoring the last remark, Jasper insisted, “Many women have blonde hair and blue eyes. I believe you and your associates were after the wrong one, even when chasing Miss Sudbury down my street.”

“Then why did she run, sir?” the shorter man demanded.

“Because you were chasing her.”

Julia would have laughed at Jasper’s response if the situation weren’t so deadly serious.

“It was the fact she was on your street and then got into your carriage that made us think we have the right one. Begging your pardon, my lord.”

“Nothing to pardon, gentleman. But why do you say such a thing?”

The two men eyed one another. “Because of the recent rumors of your own financial difficulties,” said the first. “And of your being linked with the jewel thief to help pull yourself out of them.”

Julia wished he hadn’t said that. Nothing seemed to put Jasper’s back up like false talk of his fiscal ruin. In a blink, the earl’s expression turned icy.

“Rumor is all you have, then,” he snapped. “You see my home. Do I appear to be having financial difficulties? In two days, we’re having a Twelfth Night party. Would we pay for such extravagance if we didn’t have the funds? It’s ridiculous and insulting!” Jasper folded his arms across his chest.

“But this young woman—” the shorter man began again.

“Rather than hurl degrading accusations which make you look like a couple of gossipmongers instead of sleuths,” Jasper said, “I suggest you go back to London and speak with my accountant. I shall give you his name and address.”

He turned to his butler. “Mr. Jeffers, please write down Mr. Bartholomew’s address for these men.”

Julia noted Jasper didn’t call them gentlemen, nor invite them farther into his home.

“While that is very accommodating of you,” the first man said, “you, sir, are not the one under our scrutiny. It is this woman whose name was upon the list of guests at various parties where the host’s jewelry went missing.”

“Was I at those parties, too?” Jasper asked.

“Some of them, but not all, sir. Only Miss Sudbury, or her sister, Lady Worthington, was at all of them.”

Jasper shrugged. “That is hardly proof. Some peoples’ names get left off the guest list, someone may bring a friend who is not noted. And now, it seems, you are implying the Countess of Worthington might also be involved. How absurd! In any case, I can assure you the thief