The Last Eligible Bachelor - Ashtyn Newbold Page 0,63

absence to her other guests in the drawing room, and that is why you were not informed.”

“Mrs. Ollerton is on a call this afternoon,” Miss Coppins said, her voice clipped.

“Oh, I see.”

We walked in prolonged silence for several seconds before she spoke again, her voice abrupt. “I must go now. It was quite diverting to walk with you, Miss Sedgwick, but as you know, I prefer not to exert myself for longer than necessary.”

What had been necessary about that walk? My brow furrowed as she smiled and retreated back to where we had found her.

“I’ve never met such a strange woman.” Jessie hobbled up beside me, frowning in Miss Coppins’s direction as she disappeared within the shaded gardens once again.

“I have come to expect such from any conversation with Miss Coppins.” I sighed. “But you are right. That was particularly strange.”

Jessie and I finished our walk, and my thoughts wandered back to other things. Mr. Hill was among the most prevalent. But arching over it all was a heavy blanket of fear that I couldn’t seem to displace, no matter how hard I tried to remain calm and positive. Mr. Hill did not seem entirely confident in his success with persuading his uncle to be lenient toward Papa, and I was not confident in my success with continuing our false courtship undiscovered.

When the next three weeks ended, how much will have changed? How much further will I have strayed from my purpose?

My worry refused to leave all afternoon, and when Mrs. Ollerton stood abruptly in the drawing room after dinner, it only increased. Her expression sprung into a look of panic. It wouldn’t have been so out of the ordinary if it had been directed at me.

Instead, she was staring at the table in the far corner of the room.

“Where is my mother’s pendant?” Her face took on a grey hue, and she rushed toward the bust, touching the sculpture with dismay. She whirled to face the room, taking a deep breath as she touched a hand to her collarbone.

It took me a moment to recall the image of the necklace she spoke of, with the ruby center that sparkled in the sunlight each afternoon. There had yet to be a day Mrs. Ollerton hadn’t commented on its beauty. But, as she said, it was gone. Miss Downsfield gasped, putting one gloved hand against her cheek. The other ladies made similar sounds of dismay, walking forward to examine the statue that had been left bare.

“I should never have gone out this afternoon,” Mrs. Ollerton said under her breath.

Miss Taplow frowned. “Surely you don’t suppose it was one of your guests who stole it. Perhaps a maid took it to clean and forgot to replace it? Did it fall on the floor?”

Mrs. Ollerton shook her head, the color still missing from her cheeks. “I have strictly forbidden any of the servants from touching it. If it needs cleaning, I have made it clear I will perform the task myself.” She turned back toward the table, her shoulders slumping.

I glanced at each of the ladies surrounding her, catching a ghost of a smile curl one side of Miss Downsfield’s lips. Her expression quickly transformed back to dismay when Mrs. Ollerton turned once again.

My eyes narrowed.

“I will not allow this misfortune to ruin our evening.” Mrs. Ollerton exhaled through pursed lips. “First thing in the morning I will have every room searched as a precaution. I do doubt there is a thief among us, but one can never be too certain of anything.” Her smile was weak as she surveyed each guest in turn.

If the evening wasn’t ruined by the missing pendant, it had already been ruined by Mrs. Ollerton’s recent announcement. Mr. Hill had yet to rejoin us in the drawing room when she had detailed her conversation with him that morning concerning our courtship, and consoled the other ladies with the hope that he might soon change his mind. I pretended not to be offended by the hopeful tone in her voice and the complete disregard she showed for my presence in the room.

“There is no need to worry, really,” Miss Downsfield said. “Surely Mr. Hill will come to his senses.”

For a moment, I felt as if I were sinking into my chair. But then my hands tightened around my skirts, and my spine straightened. “Mr. Hill is a very sensible man,” I blurted, willing my voice to sound confident. “He has already come to his senses, and he has chosen