The Bachelor's Bride (The Thompsons of Locust Street #1) - Holly Bush Page 0,62

standing quite still in the shadows near the windows as I thought I saw someone in the gardens. I was just about to—”

“I don’t know why anyone is paying attention to this man!” Mrs. Schmitt said loudly. “Who is he to accuse me?”

“He hasn’t accused anyone of anything yet, Mrs. Schmitt.” Alexander looked up at Bamblebit. “Continue.”

“I was just about to go out to the gardens myself to see if there was anything amiss when she, Mrs. Schmitt, came into the room. She closed the door quietly and went to the buffet that sits against the wall. She opened one of the drawers and opened her purse, that one there, in her lap,” Bamblebit pointed, “and started to put things in it. I wasn’t sure what, and she won’t allow me to look in her purse.”

“Why would I allow this servant to look in my bag? Go back to the kitchens, where you belong,” she said dismissively and stood.

“Sit down, Mrs. Schmitt,” Graham said. His quiet command and steely gaze had her dropping back to her seat quickly.

“Mr. Pendergast.” She smiled sweetly. “Please get Mr. Schmitt for me. I’m not feeling well and would like to go home. I’m sure you don’t want your employer’s wife to be discomforted.”

“Let me see your bag, ma’am, and then we will have your husband fetched,” Alexander said and stretched out his hand.

She clutched the bag close to her. “There is nothing in my bag but my lip rouge and spare pins for my hair. My maid is slovenly and rarely gets it pinned properly.”

“Then you will not care if I look in it. I would not cause you embarrassment if there is something of a personal nature in the bag,” he said and reached a little closer.

She shrugged. “Fine, then. But don’t let that one ruffle through my things. It ain’t right.”

Alexander took the bag from her and heard a clink inside. His eyes met Mrs. Schmitt’s, but she was looking back at him as if she had not a care in the world. Alexander opened the purse and carefully pulled the contents onto the side table. Silver spoons and forks clanged against the glass top of the table.

Mrs. Schmitt gasped. “How in the world did those things get into my bag?”

“’Cause you put them there,” Bamblebit said.

“That’s outlandish! Wait until my husband hears about this! You’ll lose your position and won’t work again in the city!”

“Mr. Bamblebit, would you please fetch Mr. Schmitt?” Graham asked.

The man nodded and walked out of the room without a glance to Mrs. Schmitt.

“How do you explain my grandmother’s silverware and sugar bowl in your bag?” Alexander asked.

Mrs. Schmitt’s impressive and well-covered bosom rose and fell. “Well, of course that Bumble fellow did it! My husband has enemies, of which you are aware. Any of them would like to see him embarrassed.”

The door to the room opened, and the agent standing there moved to block Mr. Schmitt’s entrance. He stood aside on Graham’s signal.

Schmitt looked down at the items on the table beside his wife’s purse. “We have plenty of silver at home, Berta. What are you doing thieving here?”

Chapter 16

Elspeth was bewildered. Alexander had been so attentive, looking at her as if she were the only woman at the ball until he’d escorted her to James’s side. She’d dreamed about this evening for so many nights and daydreamed about it through so many afternoons that when it finally arrived, she felt as if she knew exactly what would happen. He would greet her at the door, smiling and focused on her alone. All true until that tall man had come for him. James said he was the head of the Pendergast family security. Alexander was needed. She understood that, but it didn’t make her feel any less neglected.

“Why the long face, Elspeth?” James said. He’d just returned to her and Payden’s side after dancing with several young women, where they stood near Aunt Murdoch, who was comfortably seated with some other older women.

“I don’t have a long face,” she said and took a slow breath.

“He danced with that one over there,” Payden said. “The one with all the red hair.”

“I know. I saw his mother introduce them.”

“Then Graham talked to him again and off he went,” James said.

“I know,” she whispered, closer to tears than she’d thought, feeling the sting of them, unwilling to admit how disappointed she was, how hurt, even knowing he was doing what was expected of him. It was near midnight, and