Amelia turned to Emily, on her right; Anne sat on her left. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to check over your wardrobes." With a glance, she extended the comment to Anne. "You may well need more gowns to see you through the summer, and we should be looking ahead to when we return to town in autumn."

It took Emily a moment to draw her mind from its now habitual preoccupation; Lord Kirkpatrick and his family had been invited to visit in a few weeks' time. She blinked, then nodded. "I hadn't really thought, but you're right. I wouldn't want a panic over gowns while Mark's here."

Amelia hid her smile. "Indeed." She looked at Anne. "We should check your things, too."

Anne smiled and nodded her agreement.

Perfectly readily, without the slightest hint of trepidation.

Amelia glanced down the table. At the other end, even though his conversation with Lucifer hadn't faltered, Luc had been watching, following her tack. She met his dark gaze; although he didn't precisely nod, she sensed his agreement to her plan.

If Anne had been stealing things, what was she doing with them? If her actions were purely an irrational compulsion, then the items would be hidden somewhere, most likely in her room. With Emily, Portia, and Penelope forever about, let alone the maids and Mrs. Higgs, anywhere else seemed unlikely. And even if Anne had somehow managed to sell some items, as the matter of the saltcellar seemed to suggest, she couldn't possibly have sold everything.

"Is there much to see in the village?" Phyllida asked.

Amelia looked up. "Not really, but it's a pleasant place. We could go riding that way after lunch, if you'd like." She nodded down the table at their spouses. "They'll no doubt be occupied elsewhere."

Phyllida grinned. "Indeed. After lunch, then." She pushed back her chair.

The table broke up. Phyllida and Minerva went out for a stroll in the gardens. Miss Pink ushered her charges up the stairs to the schoolroom. Leaving Luc and Lucifer still talking over their coffee cups, Amelia, Emily, and Anne headed off for the girls' rooms.

The necessity of examining their gowns wasn't a complete fabrication. It was Emily's and Anne's gowns that had first alerted Amelia to the family's straightened circumstances — she'd noticed fabrics being reused, gowns recut and refashioned; it had been cleverly done but having been in such frequent contact with the family, she'd seen and guessed the truth.

Now, there was no reason the girls couldn't have new gowns, that their wardrobes couldn't be improved to a level commensurate with their social standing. The girls themselves knew nothing of that, but Amelia did.

She directed them first to Emily's room. Emily opened her wardrobe doors wide, Amelia sank into an armchair by the window, Anne plopped down on the bed, and they all settled to enjoy themselves.

Forty minutes later, they'd exhaustively examined the contents of Emily's wardrobe and dresser. Amelia had extended their purview to include all garments, shoes, accessories of all kinds; every drawer and box in Emily's room had been looked into, the contents picked over.

Glancing down at the tablet on which she'd jotted various notes, Amelia nodded. "Very well. We'll arrange to get all these things. Now…" She waved to the corridor.

Without further direction, they decamped to Anne's room next door.

There they repeated the exercise, this time with Emily perched on the bed and Anne at the wardrobe doors. Amelia watched Anne closely as she pulled out gowns, shawls, and spencers. Not a glimmer of self-consciousness, not a trace of guilty fear, showed in Anne's sweet face — just a shy delight at being included in such an undertaking.

Again, the contents of every drawer, every hatbox and bandbox were examined; all Amelia discovered was that Anne needed more silk stockings, a new pair of evening gloves, and a new cherry red shawl.

Holding the old one up, Anne studied it in dismay. "I've no idea… it was old, of course, but I can't think why the weave should have given way like that."

Amelia shrugged. "Silk sometimes does that — just gives way." Although the fabric of the shawl looked like it had been worried and wrenched. "Never mind. We'll get you a new one."

Emily sat up. "Until you get a new shawl, you won't be carrying your red reticule — the one that matched it. Can I borrow it? It's just the right shade to go with my carriage dress."

"Of course." Anne looked up at the shelf above the wardrobe's hanging space. "It should be here somewhere."

Amelia glanced down at her notes. Emily and Anne shared clothes and accessories freely, a fact that had further disguised the lack in their wardrobes from the eagle eyes of the ton's matrons. She scribbled a reminder to make sure Anne had all she needed to go on with, given all indications were that Emily would shortly be leaving home.

"I'm sure it was here." Stretched on her toes. Anne pushed things this way, then that. "Ah — here it is."

She pulled the reticule free by its strings; with a grin, she swung and let it fly across the room to Emily on the bed.

Emily laughed and caught it, then her face registered surprise. "It's heavy. What on earth have you got in it?"

As she felt the contents of the reticule through the layers of red silk, Emily's expression grew more puzzled.

Amelia glanced at Anne, but the only expression on her face, in her brown eyes, was one of complete bemusement. "A handkerchief, some pins. I don't know what could be heavy…" But they could all now see the shape under Emily's hands. "Let me see."

Anne crossed to the bed, to Emily's side; Amelia rose and joined them. By then, Emily had tugged the reticule's strings loose; she eased open the top and looked in. Then, frowning, she reached in and pulled out—

"A quizzing glass." Emily held it up. They all stared at the ornately chased stem, at the tiny jewels winking along its length.

"Whose on earth is it?"

It was Anne who asked the question. Amelia looked at her — closely, sharply; no matter how hard she looked there was nothing but total befuddlement in the younger girl's face.

"And how did it get there?" Anne glanced back at her wardrobe, then swept around and returned to the shelf. Without Amelia suggesting it, Anne hauled all her reticules, all the hatboxes they'd already examined down. When the shelf was bare, she pushed aside the boxes and knelt beside the mound of reticules. She opened each one, and shook out the contents. Handkerchiefs, pins, a comb, two fans.

Nothing else.

Sitting back on her heels, Anne looked across the room. "I don't understand."

Neither did Amelia. "It's not your mother's, is it?"

Emily shook her head, still studying the quizzing glass. "I don't think I've seen anyone else with it either."

Amelia took the quizzing glass. It truly was heavy; she couldn't imagine any lady carrying such a thing. Anne had drawn near, frowning at the glass — entirely at a loss.

"It must have been put into your reticule by mistake."

Amelia slid the glass into the pocket of her day gown. "I'll ask around — the owner shouldn't be too hard to trace." She looked around. "Now, have we finished going through everything?"

Anne blinked, then looked about, somewhat dazedly. "I think so."

Emily gathered up the red reticule and jumped from the bed. "I've just remembered — it's our day to do the vases."

Amelia manufactured a smile. "You'd better get going then — there's less than an hour to luncheon."

They left the room; Anne closed the door. Emily popped into her room to leave the red reticule there, then rejoined them as they headed down the corridor. Amelia hung back as the two girls went ahead down the stairs; at the bottom, they turned and waved, then continued on to the garden hall.

On the last stair, Amelia paused. Emily had smiled, Anne had not. Doubtless, Emily had already dismissed the quizzing glass from her mind; she had too many far more pleasant matters to dwell on. Anne, however, was worried. Possibly a little fearful. But so she would be; despite being quiet, she was not unintelligent. None of Luc's sisters was.

Amelia stood in the empty front hall, hand on the newel post, gazing unseeing at the front door, then she sighed, re-focused, stepped down from the stairs, and headed for the study.

Luc looked up as Amelia entered the study. She saw him seated behind his large desk, but didn't smile. He watched impassively as she closed the door, then crossed the room.

As she neared, he realized her expression was unfamiliar — reserved, almost somber.

"What's the matter?" He couldn't hold back the question, started to rise.

She met his gaze, waved him back. He subsided into his chair; she passed the chair before the desk, continued around it. Reaching him, lips tight, she turned, sat on his lap, then leaned into him.

His mind streaked in a dozen different directions; an odd fear clutched his heart. Bad news — that was all he could think. He closed his arms about her, gently, then more firmly; she snuggled closer, deeper into his embrace, her cheek to his chest. He laid his jaw against her curls, feeling them slide like silk against his chin. "What?"

"I went with Emily and Anne to check through their things — you heard me organizing."

"You found something." The vise about his heart slowly closed.

"Yes. This." She lifted her hand and showed him an ornate quizzing glass. "It was in one of Anne's reticules."

His heart grew cold, then colder; he forced himself to take the quizzing glass. He held it up, squinted when he saw the stones flash. "Diamonds?"

"I think so. And I don't think it's a lady's — it's too heavy."

"I don't think I've ever seen it before."

"I haven't either. Nor have Emily and Anne."

Luc felt cold tension flow through him; it kept him so silent and still, Amelia eventually glanced up.

He met her gaze; her eyes were wide, as blue as the sky. A little shock, and a ton of worry, shadowed the blue. He clung to the contact and forced himself to say, "So it's Anne, and we have another Ashford scandal."

He saw the frown flow into Amelia's eyes before her brows drew down.

"No." She shook her head brusquely. "Stop leaping to conclusions."

"Leaping…?" He felt a flash of temper. Knew it was irrational. "What the hell am I — is anyone to think—"

Amelia struggled to sit up, to draw out of his arms.

He immediately tightened his hold. "No. Sit still."

She complied — he suspected because she had to — but her accents were clipped when she tersely informed him, "I'm sure it's not Anne. Or Emily, for that matter."

He felt a little of the icy tension seep away, felt the vise ease a notch. "Why? Tell me."

She hesitated, then said, "I'm not a mind reader, but I'm not hopeless at judging people and their reactions either. Anne was truly surprised, totally puzzled over the quizzing glass being in her reticule. She hadn't known it was there — I'm sure she didn't recognize it, meaning she literally had never seen it before. Anne's shy — she's not experienced enough to hide her feelings. And the most telling fact of all was that she didn't need to give Emily the reticule — she could easily have said it wasn't there, or she'd look it out later, or… a host of things."

Luc struggled through her words, then admitted, "I'm lost — explain."

She did, sitting in his lap within the circle of his arms.

When she finished, she sat still, waited…

After some moments, he forced himself to take a tight breath. "Are you sure…?"

"Yes." She looked into his face, held his gaze. "I'm quite certain that whoever took that quizzing glass, it wasn't Anne or Emily."

He tried to find some wavering in the steady blue of her eyes. "You're not just saying that…?" He gestured with one hand; even though it was behind her back, she understood.

The stubborn set of her chin and lips softened. She laid a hand against his cheek. "I might" — she paused, then continued—"turn a blind eye to some things if I thought it was in your best interests, that it would help you or our family, but this…" She shook her head; her eyes held his. "Telling you it wasn't Anne when it was wouldn't help, and might instead lead to a great deal more harm."

Her words sank into him, slowly eased the vise open, let his blood flow again and warm him, driving away the chill.

He drew a deep breath. "You're sure." No question; the answer was in her eyes.