Devonshire Scream Page 22

  “Oh no,” Theodosia murmured.

  “Oh yes.” Janine crept forward and adjusted the neckline slightly. “If this dress is your first choice, and I’m hoping it is, I bet Delaine is going to be jealous of how great you look.”

  “Delaine? Jealous?” Theodosia said. Hah!

  But Janine was dead serious. “You have no idea how head-over-heels crazy in love Delaine is with that new boyfriend of hers,” she said, whispering, as if the walls had ears. “Every day Delaine practically drives herself crazy trying to look and dress her best. She’s been spending a fortune on facials and manicures. I think she’s so paranoid about looking young and cute that she’s even had Botox.”

  “She doesn’t need that stuff. Delaine always looks great.”

  “No, this is different,” Janine said. “Delaine is constantly pushing herself to up her game. She claims that’s what you have to do when you’re madly in love. To, you know, keep the attraction going.”

  “Maybe she really is madly in love, then,” Theodosia said. She’d figured this guy was just another guy in a long string of guys. So maybe I should take a little time to get to know her boyfriend? That is, if he really is her one true love.

  “Have you met him?” Janine asked.

  “Just briefly. For all of about two seconds.”

  “I’ve met Mr. Gilles,” Janine said, “and I’d have to say he’s very handsome.” She gave an appreciative shiver. “Mysterious, too.”

  Theodosia turned toward her. “Mysterious? In what way?”

  “I suppose because he’s European, with such a lovely accent and fine manners.”

  “But he’s leaving to go back home in a week or so,” Theodosia said. “He’s going back to France.”

  Janine nodded sadly. “I know, but Delaine is hoping and praying she can convince him to stay here forever.”

  “You mean she wants to marry him?”

  “I think she does, yes.”

  “For her sake then, I hope he stays.”

  Janine nodded briskly and said, “So . . . shall I wrap your dress or do you want to wear it out? Or is there something else you want to try on?”

  Theodosia twirled back to face her image in the mirror. “I guess I have to make a decision, don’t I? Well, I love this sleek look . . . and I’ve got some black heels that should go perfectly.” She touched a hand to the neckline. “But is it just the teensiest bit plain on top?”

  “Maybe it could use a necklace or a colorful pin?” Janine said.

  “You think?”

  “A pin would definitely glam it up,” Janine said. “Especially if you have one with tons of sparkle.”

  Theodosia eyed her reflection in the mirror again. As far as finding a stunning piece of jewelry went, she was pretty sure she knew who to ask.

  • • •

  When Theodosia rushed into Heart’s Desire, Brooke was standing in the middle of the shop directing a bevy of carpenters and rug guys. A ladder was set up at one end of the shop and, way at the tippy-top of it, a man was installing a row of pinpoint spotlights.

  “Theodosia,” Brooke said when she spotted her. “Tell me some good news.”

  “Professor Shepley is out of the running,” Theodosia said. “I spoke with the FBI guys last night and they claim they’ve cleared him completely.”

  Brooke cocked her head to one side, considering this. “I guess I never believed the professor was any kind of criminal mastermind. From what you told me, he was an odd duck, yes, but probably not a jewel thief.” She sighed. “So it’s back to square one?”

  “No, we left square one days ago. Now we’re playing an advanced game of cat and mouse.”

  That brought a faint smile to Brooke’s face. “You being the cat?”

  “Hopefully.”

  “Theodosia, you are a dear soul. And I know I asked for your help . . . well, I actually begged for your help. But the more I hear about international jewel thieves, the more I worry that you might be in danger. That you might put yourself out there a little too far.”

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Brooke looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “What if I wore an exotic piece of jewelry to the Heritage Society show tonight?”

  “Well, sure,” Brooke said. “It’s no problem if you want to borrow something. I’ve still got a few choice pieces stashed in my safe.”

  Theodosia decided she should probably clarify her request. “I mean I want to wear a spectacular piece of jewelry as bait.”

  “Bait?” Now comprehension dawned on Brooke’s face. “Oh no, honey, there’s no way I could let you do that. You flash some major jewels around and it really could put you in danger. I mean, what if this guy or gang who robbed me crashes the party? Or the same person who robbed that woman at the opera? If they see that you’re wearing a particularly tasty piece of jewelry, they might decide to go after you!” She shook her head. “No, it’s simply too dangerous.”

  “But don’t you see, that’s exactly what I want to happen. I want this guy or gang or whatever they are, to be enticed and then . . .”

  Brooke lifted an eyebrow. “Rob you? Hurt you?”

  “I was thinking more like they’d get swarmed by the police and arrested.”

  “I see the method to your madness. But still . . .”

  “Listen, this might be our only chance of catching these guys,” Theodosia said. “They might be moving on soon. To better pickings in another city. Please, I really want to do this.”

  “Yes, I’m getting the idea,” Brooke said. “I see the determination in your eyes.”

  “Then let me do it, for goodness’ sake.” Theodosia drew a deep breath. “For Kaitlin’s sake.”

  “Theodosia . . .”

  “Timothy Neville has assured us there’ll be plenty of security present.”

  “Sure there will,” Brooke said. “Did they hire armed guards from Fort Knox? Or, better yet, is SEAL Team Six standing by?”

  When Theodosia didn’t reply, when she continued with her slightly imploring look, Brooke took her hand and squeezed it. “Okay, Theo. You win. This is against my better judgment, but we’ll find something fabulous for you to flash around tonight. But I want you to swear on a stack of Bibles that you’ll be super careful. That you’ll promise not to take any unnecessary risks.”

  “I promise,” Theodosia said, even though she figured she might be taking a huge risk. But she was tired of chasing after shadows and anxious to make something happen. Exactly what, she figured she’d have to wait and find out.

  • • •

  When Theodosia finally swung into the Indigo Tea Shop it was almost eleven o’clock.

  “There you are,” Drayton said. He looked up from behind the counter, where he was packaging up two dozen chocolate chip scones in indigo-blue boxes for a take-out order. “We haven’t been terribly busy with morning tea service . . . we’re about half-full as you can see. But the phone has been ringing off the hook for take-out orders. It seems like every coffee shop, B and B, and anxious hostess in a ten-block radius wants to get their paws on a dozen of our scones. Like immediately. So Haley had to ramp up and bake another four dozen.”

  “Was that a problem?” Theodosia asked.

  “No. Haley pretty much took it in stride. You know what a little trouper she is. And the kitchen’s all toasty warm and smells heavenly. Like somebody blended sugar, chocolate, and cinnamon to concoct some kind of delicious foodie perfume.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Theodosia said. “But I think I’ll go check on Haley and see how she’s doing.”

  • • •

  “You want to hand me that aluminum mixing bowl?” Haley asked abruptly as Theodosia stepped into the kitchen. As Drayton had predicted, it was toasty warm and smelled heavenly. If chocolate was your idea of
heaven.

  Theodosia glanced sideways. “The big one on the top shelf?”

  “Yup. That’s it.”

  Theodosia grabbed the bowl, bobbled it slightly in her hands, and then passed it over to Haley. “Drayton said you had to whip up a few more pans of scones?”

  Haley gave a quick nod. “Yeah, we’ve been crazy-busy with take-out orders. So I baked another four dozen chocolate chip scones and now I’m going to whip up three dozen maraschino cherry scones. Once that’s done, I’m going to collapse and call it a day.” She grabbed a canister of sugar and popped off the top. “We’re still planning to close early today, right?”

  “One thirty or two o’clock. As soon as we can gracefully get everyone out of the tea shop without ruffling any feathers.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Haley said. She grabbed a scoop and began measuring out sugar. “You know, I’ve been thinking about the Rare Antiquities Show tonight and I decided that I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  “That’s great to hear. I’m glad you decided to join us.” Haley wasn’t always gung ho about black-tie events. Especially the ones at the Heritage Society, which she deemed to be a little too stuffy for her bohemian sensibilities. “Have you figured out what you’re going to wear?”

  Haley glanced up. “I thought I might wear that midnight blue dress you let me wear last time. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Absolutely it would. Especially since it’s still hanging in your closet.”

  “Well . . . yeah. But if it’s a problem . . .”

  “It’s not,” Theodosia said. “Besides, I already made a run to Cotton Duck and picked up a new black dress. Though it was done under duress and Delaine technically picked it out for me.”

  “Was she there? Futzing around the shop?” Haley asked.

  “No, thank goodness.”

  Haley chuckled. “Delaine’s kind of an ankle biter, isn’t she?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You know, like one of those little teacup dogs that’s always jumping around and yapping at your ankles.”

  “I doubt Delaine would see it that way.”

  “So,” Haley said, “what’d she pick out for you? A cool dress or a gag-me dress?”

  “It’s cute. I think you’ll like it.”

  “But the big question is will I fit into it?” Haley asked. “At a later date, I mean.”

  “You probably will. If you don’t snarf down too many of your own scones.”

  “I know,” Haley chuckled. “I gotta be careful about that. I don’t want to be a product of my own success.”

  “Speaking of which, what’s on the docket for lunch today?”

  “I made it easy peasy,” Haley said. “Tomato bisque soup, egg salad tea sandwiches, and mini chicken Wellingtons.”

  “Chicken Wellington? We’ve never served that before,” Theodosia said. “In fact, I’ve never heard of it before.”

  Haley grinned. “You wouldn’t. Since I just invented it.”

  • • •

  After relaxing at home for the afternoon, Theodosia took Earl Grey for a nice long walk and then came home and slipped into her tub for a bubble bath. As she unwound and luxuriated in the hot, silky water, her thoughts predictably turned toward the evening. She ruminated about the Heritage Society’s big coup in obtaining a genuine Fabergé egg for their show, and all the well-to-do patrons who’d be in attendance.

  There was also the possibility, of course, that coyotes might sneak into the chicken coop. That uninvited guests might infiltrate the show, with hungry eyes and theft on their brain.

  Of course, someone with a proper invitation might also be biding their time to grab the Fabergé egg. Lionel Rinicker came to mind, as did Sabrina and Luke Andros. She didn’t think her other two suspects—Billy Grainger and Marcus Clement—would be there. But you never know. It could turn out to be an anything-can-happen night.

  Toenails clicked against the bathroom tile and Theodosia glanced up to see Earl Grey peering in.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m turning into a prune and probably making myself late. I’ll kick it into high gear.”

  Earl Grey curled up on a plush cushion in Theodosia’s upstairs turret room as she bustled about in her slip, getting ready. Delaine had once urged her to wear more eye makeup, so tonight she dutifully stood before her mirror and dabbed on a smidge of beige eye shadow, applied a coat of brown mascara, and then added a second coat.

  There. Enough. I don’t need to have tarantula eyes.

  Lipstick was just a touch of Chanel’s Imaginaire lip gloss.

  Theodosia reached up and removed the plastic clip from her hair. Her auburn locks tumbled down around her shoulders, giving her the look of an angel in a romantic painting by Raphael. She grabbed a fat brush and tried to tame her curls and fierce waves. But the more she brushed, the more her hair crackled and came alive.

  At least it’s not doing its high-humidity double-volume thing.

  In a world of upper-crust women who wore sleek designer bobs and sophisticated pixie cuts, she would just have to go au naturel tonight.

  “Woof.”

  Theodosia walked out of the bathroom and said, “What?” Earl Grey was standing at the window, his nose pressed hard against the glass, staring down into the backyard. “What do you see, fella?”

  “Rrrrw.” His hackles were up and his tail was down.

  “Somebody in the backyard?” Theodosia came to the window and looked down. “Are the raccoons back?” But she didn’t see anything moving. No bright eyes staring up, no bushy tails. “I think we’re okay,” she said. “You can probably stand down.” But like a good guard dog, earnest and unperturbed, Earl Grey remained at his post.

  Theodosia slipped into her new black cocktail dress and squiggled her feet into black velvet high heels. She brushed back waves of hair and put on a pair of diamond stud earrings that her aunt Libby had given her. The last thing she did was attach the pin that Brooke had loaned her. When she was ready, when she finally glanced at herself head to toe in the mirror, her dress and all her other preparations seemed like background noise. The sparkling ruby-and-diamond flower pin clearly took center stage. Sitting high on her dress, the multitude of jewels sparkled and danced, projecting a thousand points of light.

  And as Theodosia turned to leave, the dazzling shards glimmered seductively and seemed almost to whisper, Come and snatch me if you dare.

  26

  “Theodosia,” Drayton exclaimed. “You look positively radiant tonight.” He looked and sounded appropriately awestruck.

  “Thank you,” Theodosia said. She had just stepped into the Great Hall at the Heritage Society and been enveloped in a swirl of elegantly gowned women and tuxedo-clad men. Waiters carrying silver trays plied the crowd with crystal flutes filled with French champagne, and over in the far corner a string quartet played the sprightly notes of Vivaldi. Drayton himself wore a one-button Fitzgerald tuxedo with a red cummerbund.

  “As you can see,” Drayton said, looking pleased, one arm sweeping the crowd in a rather grand gesture, “the Heritage Society has had a record turnout.”

  Theodosia glanced about at the well-heeled mob, where society ladies exchanged air kisses, men shook hands and congratulated each other on business deals and golf scores, and singles were on the prowl. “Heavens,” she said, “how many people are here, anyway?”

  “At last estimate, a tad over three hundred guests.”

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  Drayton’s brows knit together suddenly. “Like you, I still worry about some disaster befalling our Fabergé egg.”

  “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,” Theodosia murmured softly. “So . . . are there extra guards? Has added security been put on?”

  “Timothy says yes, so I have to believe him. Though most of the security detail seem to be
dressed in plain clothes and are mingling anonymously.”

  “And where’s the guest of honor?” Theodosia asked. “Where is this amazing Fabergé egg?” She glanced around, saw fine oil paintings, marble sculptures, and some sterling silver pitchers that were probably genuine Paul Revere. But no egg.

  “At the last minute, Timothy had the display case moved to the rear of the Great Hall,” Drayton said. “Instead of keeping the Fabergé egg front and center, he thought it would be safer if it was back by the wall, easier to guard.” He gave her a knowing look, then put a hand on her shoulder and steered her through the press of warm bodies. “Come along, I’ll show you.”

  When they were within fifteen feet of the Fabergé egg, Theodosia began hearing appreciative murmurs. The cacophony of words that rang in her ears included such words as, “spectacular,” “amazing,” and “I wonder how much it’s worth?”

  “How much is it worth?” Theodosia asked Drayton as they jostled their way to the front of the line.

  “Take a look and then you tell me,” Drayton said.

  Theodosia edged forward two more steps and then, suddenly, there it was. A dazzling, ruby-red, jewel-encrusted imperial Fabergé egg. Gracefully encased in delicate swirls of 24-karat gold, it was one of the most amazing pieces of art that Theodosia had ever seen.

  “Oh my goodness,” Theodosia exclaimed, completely taken aback. “It’s beautiful.” She’d never set eyes on a genuine Fabergé egg before. She’d only seen photos of them in a Sotheby’s catalog. Clearly, even glossy photos couldn’t do the eggs justice because this particular Fabergé egg was take-your-breath-away stunning.

  “Isn’t it a honey?” Drayton was smiling unabashedly now. “You see how the middle of the egg is set completely with rubies?”

  “I see that,” Theodosia said.

  “With a dozen rows of diamonds at both the top and bottom?” Drayton flicked his hand just so.

  “Amazing.” Any one of the many diamonds would have made a girl swoon.

  “And do you see the design of the gold work? How the imperial Russian eagle morphs seamlessly into that lovely swirl pattern.” Drayton waggled a finger. “Do you see how the design almost anticipates the Art Deco movement?”