A Dash of Scandal - By Amelia Grey Page 0,30

It could have cost him his life.” This was more proof that Millicent had been right in being so cautious where Lord Dunraven was concerned.

“Every year there is always a young lady who decides she can snare one of the earls. This year it is Miss Bardwell.”

“Yes,” Millicent said. “I’ve met her.”

“She tricked all three of them into dancing with her last evening. She does seem to be more forward than previous young ladies, and her father allows her wild behavior. And poor Miss Donaldson is heartsick. She fears her father wants her to marry an older bachelor who is determinedly courting her, and she is not at all delighted with his attentions.”

“How do you know all this?” Millicent asked, surprised and curious as to why Lady Lynette knew so much about what was going on in Society.

“I’ve told you. I listen to what is being said around me. I’m usually very careful not to repeat what I’ve heard, but for some reason you are so very easy to talk to. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve sought you out to talk to.”

“No, of course not.”

“Perhaps I’ve confided in you because you told me you will only be here for the Season. It would be a shame for you to set your heart for a gentleman who is beyond your reach.”

“You’re quite right,” Millicent agreed, but inside she knew she had enjoyed Lord Dunraven’s attention, even if he had done the same thing to a hundred young ladies before her and even though he was risking her reputation.

As Lady Lynette sipped her tea, Millicent looked at her and realized that the young lady was a wealth of Society information. Millicent could almost write a gossip column just by listening to Lady Lynette. And that was good to know.

***

Chandler shook rain from his coat, then strode with purpose into the dark tavern located near Bow Street. The evening crowds hadn’t arrived, so even in the dim light it was easy for him to spot the man he was to meet.

The short, slim-built Thief Taker rose from his chair at the table when Chandler approached. “Lord Dunraven, I didn’t count on you wanting to see me again so soon.”

“Doulton. I expect you shall see me every day until I hear from you the thief has been caught and the raven has been recovered.”

Chandler picked up the bottle of port from the table and poured a splash into the glass that Doulton had pushed over to him.

“Tell me, what can I do for you today?” the man said.

Chandler’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what your men discovered yesterday.”

Doulton clasped his hands together and laid them on the table in front of him. He blinked slowly. “Well.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, causing a loud squeak. “I told you yesterday I have two of my best men interviewing guests who were in attendance at all three of the parties where there have been thefts. Someone was bound to have seen something or someone suspicious, but there are hundreds of people to talk to. That takes time, Lord Dunraven.”

“Then maybe you should have more than two Runners doing the questioning.”

“Perhaps I could spare more. I’ll look in to it.”

“Today?”

“Yes, today.” He shifted in his chair again. “You know that more and more people are considering the notion that it is a ghost committing the robberies.”

“A ghost?” Chandler gave him a curious stare. “Where did this come from?”

He blinked faster. “I’m not sure where it started, but it is queer that no one has seen anyone walking out with the missing items. And no one has reported seeing a stranger in any of the homes.”

“Don’t tell me you think there’s any possibility there’s a ghost doing this.”

“No, no, not me.”

“Good, because I can assure you it wasn’t a ghost who stole the raven. Damnation! One of the scandal sheets probably started this outlandish rumor, as they did with calling him the Mad Ton Thief.”

“Yes, now that you mention it,” Doulton said nervously. “I believe that is where it started.”

“Thank you for reassuring me you, at least, are sane. The jewelry could have easily fit in a man’s coat pockets, and the raven could have been held under a man’s waistcoat. Ghost indeed. Pickpockets can take your coin purse right out from under your nose without you realizing it. Does that make them a ghost?”

“No sir. But you must admit that the whole affair with this thief

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