Gather Ye Rosebuds by Joan Smith Page B

note open. She glanced at it, gave an angry tsk, and handed it to me.
    With amendments to spelling for your convenience, this is what I read:
    Steptoe has upped and gone with never a word to a soul. His head never dented his pillow last night, for I used my key when he did not come down this morning and saw it for myself. The creature was still here when Lord Weylin’s footman stopped for milady’s book of pictures. Steptoe was quizzing the lad at the doorway. It would not surprise me if he has lit out for Tunbridge to do you a mischief. A look before you is better than two behind, milady. Mrs. Chawton has been hounding us to death to know about the Book Society. Mary has got a boil on her nose and looks like a witch. Your servant, Mrs. Brodagan.
    “Steptoe!” I said. “Now what can he be up to?”
    “No good—that is certain,” Mama replied. “We must keep an eye peeled for him.”
    When Lord Weylin had still not returned ten minutes later, we ordered wine to pass the time. No sooner was it poured than he came rushing in, full of apologies.
    “Did you find any trace of Lady Margaret?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “I have been at every hotel in town, public and private. It is a complete mystery to me where she stayed. I begin to think she had a fellow in London, and was pulling the wool over our eyes with her tale of coming to Tunbridge Wells. Did you ladies have any luck?”
    “No,” we replied in unison, with suspicious alacrity.
    I feared Weylin would notice our wary manner, but he was distracted. It was not long in dawning on me that he was concealing a secret himself. His manner was too hearty and his avowals of how hard he had looked were too strong not to cause suspicion. I feared he had learned Barry’s secret, and was trying to hide it from us. If he had made inquiries at the Kashmir Jewelry Shop, for instance, Bradford might have said, “That is odd. I had two ladies in looking for their cousin this very morning.” Our description would leave Weylin in little doubt who the ladies were. But why keep it from us? Was it gentlemanly concern for our feelings, or was his reason darker?
    We ordered lunch, and while we ate, I asked nonchalantly, “Did you go to any jewelry shops, milord, or only to hotels?”
    His head jerked up. “Jewelry stores? No. Why do you ask?”
    He had certainly been to jewelry stores. “Because of your aunt’s missing necklace,” I replied with an innocent stare.
    “No, there was not time. The best course is for me to make a few inquiries in London. It seems my aunt was not coming to Tunbridge all these years at all. Are you ladies about ready to throw in the towel? I fear it is a hopeless case.”
    Mama relaxed into a smile of relief. “We were thinking we might as well be getting on home, too,” she said.
    “Very wise. We are hunting for a mare’s nest. It was foolish to think we could discover anything at this late date.”
    Once it was established we were all leaving Tunbridge, Lord Weylin became quite merry. It was obvious he wanted to get away from us as much as we wanted to be rid of him.
    “In fact,” he said, “I see no reason to waste a whole afternoon. I shall set out for London right after lunch.”
    “We might as well go home, too,” Mama said. I agreed, but said I would visit the shops first, to make it sound casual.
    Weylin was on his feet without even waiting for dessert. “I shall settle up the bill here and be on my way, then. I shall ask them to keep the parlor for your use until you leave. You might want tea after raiding the shops, Miss Barron.”
    “Let us split the bill,” Mama said. “We have had more use of the parlor than you. There are two of us.”
    He lifted his hand in a peremptory way. “Allow me.”
    “We must pay for our own mutton at least,” Mama insisted.
    “You have been an inestimable help. May I call on you when I return?” He looked at me and continued, “You were kind enough to say I might see some of your