Bees in the Butterfly Garden (35 page)

Ian took a moment to relish an image of Keys delivering the gift to Brewster’s feet, of Brewster looking at the “golden” bars with that familiar gleam of greed and triumph. Had he touched them the way Ian wanted to touch the real bars? As tenderly as he’d have touched a woman?

How long had it taken before he realized he’d been fooled? Ian nearly laughed with the thought.

He slipped a coin across the counter to pay the barkeep, along with a generous tip. It was a good day, no matter what else happened from here.

Ian stood and patted Pubjug’s back, although the man hardly looked pleased. He hadn’t understood this job at all, but then what had Ian expected of a man who’d been a thief nearly his entire life? Ian had hardly planned for the outcome of this job himself, not until the moment he’d succeeded.

He had one thing left to do as a thief, and that was the reverse of all he’d ever done before: make sure the seal was returned to the right hands. To do that he awaited only the right moment, when the broken safe was discovered.

“Well done. Now go home. Roscoe will be happy to see you.”

Pubjug hesitated. He looked older than ever today; when he was unshaven, the gray of his beard added at least a dozen years to his leathery look. “You
really
want to do this, boy?”

“I made the decision longer ago than I realized, my friend. Getting the best of Brewster confirms it. It’s a fine way to say farewell.” He shook Pubjug’s hand. Next to John, Ian hadn’t cared for any other man as much. But if Ian were to follow the leading of the faith he’d discovered, he wouldn’t be working with Pubjug anymore. He needed to start anew, away from every nefarious contact he had, which meant just about everyone he knew. Away even from Meg, for her own good. Even if she somehow gave up on following her father’s path, she could do far better than someone like Ian, who might very well struggle to do what was right for the rest of his life.

“Good-bye, Pubjug. And thank you. Be careful of Brewster—he won’t be pleased to discover what we’ve done.”

Pubjug looked as if he might say something but evidently couldn’t decide what. He only nodded, then turned away.

“Pubjug?” Ian called after him.

The man looked back.

“If anything happens to me, take good care of Roscoe, will you?”

He nodded again and walked out of the tavern.

Leaving Ian to do one thing. He might have bested Brewster today, but that didn’t mean Ian would get to enjoy any freedom he’d gained from the man. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon composing, destroying, composing, then destroying again a letter to Meg. Ultimately he’d decided it was no use. She’d have to figure out for herself why he’d done what he’d done.

Regardless, he must return that seal in the only way he could do it without any of them getting into trouble—or letting Brewster cause any.

Ian only hoped he succeeded.

Evie was, as expected, disappointed at having missed the astounding reunion of her sister and Jude. Leaving them to chatter about everything from how long he’d been gone to the exciting prospect of the first wedding in the family, Meg drew away to her room to compose a note to Ian. Short, cryptic, but enough to convey her eagerness to join him. Would he wait for her at the Glenham, or should she meet him at his home on the Hudson?

She addressed it to him at the Glenham, which was not so very far from Fifth Avenue in miles but seemed immeasurable in distance between them. She would send someone with the note that very afternoon.

When Nelson arrived home, the atmosphere became festive again, with laughter and chatter echoing from the parlor and into the dining room once supper was served. Jude told them what had taken place in his life since he’d left New York, after explaining to Meg that his family made a bad investment and lost most of their fortune. How they’d gone to Chicago with enough to start a modest business there. How he’d tried moving his heart along with him, but it had remained behind in New York. With Claire.

All in all, the day’s events were almost enough to take Meg’s mind off her troubles.

Evie sighed. “Months and months, years and years of suffering that silly park settee and I wasn’t rewarded at all. It isn’t fair.”

Nelson, sitting near her at the dinner table, patted her hand. “Yes, life is like that sometimes.”

“I stayed in the library nearly all afternoon. Which reminds me, Nelson, you ought to be more careful about the key to Father’s office.”

Meg felt the sudden drop of her heart at mention of the key.

“Why do you say that?” Nelson asked.

“Because it wasn’t in its proper place. After how many times you’ve lectured me and Mrs. Longford or Mr. Deekes about returning it to its place, I don’t think it’s fair that you didn’t return it properly.”

Her words brought every bit of temporarily forgotten guilt crashing back upon Meg’s head. Only now that guilt was accompanied by stark fear. Terror, in fact, of being caught.

Nelson frowned. “I haven’t used it since . . . let’s see, not for weeks, since we wrote that letter to Father. You saw me return it. You did check with Mr. Deekes, though?”

“Yes, and Mrs. Longford, too, but both said it was in its place the last time they went in to see that the room was cleaned. That’s why I assumed you’d been the one to use it again.”

They both turned to Claire, who shook her head.

After a moment, the inevitable happened. Evie first, then Nelson, and finally Claire . . . even Jude followed their lead until they all looked at Meg.

Meg had never been subject to swooning, but in that moment such a wave of light-headedness washed over her that she was grateful for the chair beneath her. In the next instant it took every fiber of her strength to remain seated, not to flee such stares. To act as if nothing were wrong.

“If it was moved, it was not I.” How could such true words be so thoroughly a lie?

Evie’s laughter made Claire, then the others, look her way. “You look as if you swallowed vinegar, Meg! All pasty white.”

Meg told herself to join in with the laughter, but the effort produced a sound that seemed anything but natural. How could Ian have made such an amateur mistake? Even Meg, each and every time she
had
used the key, returned it to the exact spot in which it was always found. Under the heel of the brass button-up shoe bookend on the third shelf.

“I’ll check again with the staff, Evie,” Nelson said. “But thank you for pointing it out to me.”

“You see? I’m not the cause of trouble all the time.”

Claire narrowed her eyes. “How do we know you didn’t make it up, just to garner credit for replacing something that wasn’t even moved to begin with? You do like to be the center of attention, and that’s been lacking this afternoon.”

“I did no such thing!”

Jude put a hand over Claire’s, his eyes merry. “I see nothing has changed between you and Evie these last years.”

“
Please
take her to Chicago, Jude,” Evie said. “The sooner, the better.”

Meg was relieved the topic had moved on, yet the fact remained that Ian’s visit had not been as invisible as he’d assured her it would be. She needed to talk to him more than ever now. How could he have been so careless?

She’d never been his partner before, but based solely on the fruit of his past successes, she guessed he wasn’t careless at all. Did that mean a servant
had
somehow misplaced the key, coincidentally just after Ian’s visit? Preposterous.

That left only one option: he had purposefully left it out of place so the robbery would be discovered sooner rather than later. But why? So she would have the opportunity to offer a quick, convincing performance of innocence and leave without further inquiry?

The only way to know was to ask him.

“Meg, what do you think? Will you?”

Startled and dismayed that she hadn’t been listening to the conversation, she looked at Claire apologetically. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought. What did you say?”

“Will you stand with me at my wedding? Act as my first bridesmaid?”

“I . . . I would be honored.” Another lie. While she was indeed honored, she had no idea if she would remain in New York—at least in this circle of society—long enough to perform such a distinguished task. She squashed an immediate feeling of regret. She would have been delighted to stand next to Claire on that happy occasion, if Meg hadn’t proven herself so thoroughly unqualified to be Claire’s friend.

Meg left most of her dinner untouched, and what did end up on her fork was simply moved from one side of the plate to the other.

Had Ian been right when he’d first met her—that she didn’t have the stomach for life as his partner?

33

Once guilt is established, a swift and harsh punishment is the best deterrent for other would-be criminals.

“Reasons for Incarceration”

Meg approached her bedroom door after hearing a gentle tap—a sound that stirred immediate concern considering Jude had left an hour ago and everyone else had retired for the night. “Who is it?”

“It’s Claire. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but Nelson thought it important enough to gather tonight rather than before the meeting with the staff in the morning. Could you come to his office with me, please?”

Meg glanced at the clock, which she had long since replaced on the mantel. Near eleven.

Donning her robe and slippers—she’d just about managed to remove the stains—she opened the door to see Claire’s concerned countenance.

“Has something happened?”

“I’ll let my brother explain.”

Meg followed Claire across the hall to Nelson’s study, where the gas lamps had been turned high to brighten the room. He sat behind his desk with such a grave expression that Meg’s heart, already beating erratically, picked up its pace and sent new fire throughout her body with every pump.

He stood when they entered, as if he’d been about to speak, but stopped when Evie raced in behind Meg and Claire.

“I thought I heard voices!” She looked from her sister to her brother. “You
were
going to call me in, weren’t you?”

“We didn’t want to burden you,” Nelson said, “but since you’re awake, you might as well stay. Close the door, please.”

She did so, but no one took a seat.

“There was a fracture in our security here at home,” Nelson said. Then, catching sight of Claire’s face, he added, “Actually it was more than a fracture; it was a complete break.” He rubbed his eyes, which looked red and tired already, not even an hour since he’d happily bid them good night. “To be honest I’m glad we’ll have this cleared up before Father returns, or he might never leave us alone again, Clairy.” Then he shook his head as if reminding himself of the day’s events. “I should say he might not leave
me
in charge again, since you’ll be leaving home when Mother and Father return for the wedding.”

“Do you mean to say someone
did
use that key?” Evie asked, leaning over the opposite side of Nelson’s desk. “And I’m the one who found the first clue?”

Nelson nodded. “I’ve sent for the police chief tonight rather than waiting until morning, and I didn’t want any of you to be alarmed when he arrives. We’re safe; I’m sure of that. It’s just—”

“Not Grandfather’s gold!” Evie nearly shrieked. “Was it—was it taken?”

Nelson patted the air in front of him, air that was full of Evie’s worry. “Now, now, hush. Something was taken, but not the gold.”

“The thief—or thieves—wasn’t able to open the safe, then?” Claire asked.

“As curious as it is, yes, they were. I noticed as soon as I saw the safe that it had been tampered with. Only the Pemberton seal was taken—an item thoroughly worthless now that I know it’s gone. Whoever did this actually did us a favor.”

Meg nearly covered her mouth but settled for knitting her lips tightly together. A favor, indeed. What would happen when they discovered the gold left behind was fraudulent?

“A favor?” Evie repeated. “Why is it a favor? I’m frightened, Nelson! Someone—a stranger—came into our home!”

“It’s a favor because he proved our security is lacking. The safe, for one, was obviously too easily opened.”

“But how did they know where the safe could be found?” Claire asked.

“They must know everything about us to know our biggest secret,” Evie said, her voice tremulous. “Only Mr. Deekes and Mrs. Longford even know where the key is kept, and only Mr. Deekes knows about the safe. Isn’t that right?”

Nelson nodded, still deep in thought. “The chief of police knew about it; he was the one who gave advice to Father about updating the safe.”

“Have you ever mentioned the safe to anyone, Evie?” Claire asked, though she did ask the accusatory question somewhat gently. “To any of your friends? Perhaps you were overheard.”

“No!”

Nelson rubbed his chin. “It’s true the only member of the staff to know of it is Mr. Deekes, and we all know it wasn’t him—he’s one of the family. But if it wasn’t any of us and couldn’t possibly be the chief of police . . .”

Meg kept silent, even as confusion poked questions at her. Should she pretend to be entirely in the dark? Ask where the safe was? Ask . . . anything?

Soon Mr. Deekes himself opened the office door, quietly announcing the police chief had arrived.

“I’ll see him in a moment,” Nelson said before turning to Meg and his sisters again. “There is nothing any of you can do. I only wanted to inform you of what was happening should any noise have disturbed you. You might as well go to bed.”

“All alone?” Evie asked. “In a house where a stranger can come and go?”

“Don’t be silly, Evie,” Claire said. “They couldn’t have been here when we were all home.”

“It likely happened when we were out,” Nelson said. “Perhaps at a party, or more likely during the picnic when the entire house was empty.”

“Just last night!” Evie’s words were breathless. “Oh, please don’t send me to my room alone, Nelson! I’d rather stay up with you.”

He shook his head, then glanced at Claire, who looked none too pleased by his silent entreaty.

“Oh, all right, she can stay in my room,” she said.

“Can I bring Pindar? He’ll squawk if anyone comes in—or flutter his wings and wake me.”

“Absolutely, positively not. I’m not sleeping in the same room as that creature. Not even in his cage, since he knows how to get out of it.”

“But—” Before Evie could form an argument, she turned her attention to Meg. “Could I stay in your room, then? Me and Pindar, too? I promise you he won’t make a bit of trouble. I’ll bring a blanket to put over the table, so if he happens to . . . Well, he won’t make a mess like the last time because he’s calmer when I’m with him.”

Meg knew Evie had nothing more to worry about tonight than she had any other night, but logic wouldn’t let her say so and compunction wouldn’t let her refuse the request. She nodded.

“Oh, thank you! Will you come with me to the aviary to get him? I don’t want to be alone, not for a moment.”

Meg uttered a somber good night to Nelson and Claire, hearing her friend say that she wanted to send someone to the hotel where Jude was staying, but Nelson discouraged her from sending for him this late. Then Meg was out of the room, unable to hear more.

Claire was clearly as upset as Evie. Fearful, even.

But they had nothing to fear! Ian wouldn’t hurt anyone; he was entirely incapable of such a thing. And certainly they weren’t afraid of
her
!

Yet she was responsible for their unease.

The bird did not appear at all ruffled at the visit, but Meg reminded herself of Evie’s late nights in the aviary, so it was little wonder Pindar welcomed her company as if he’d been waiting for her. He probably didn’t expect to return to the guest room he’d been banished from so many weeks ago, but as Evie promised, he made no noise while sitting on her shoulder as she spread a blanket on the table near the window overlooking the garden.

She spoke quietly to him, soothing words Evie herself probably needed to hear more than the bird did. Meg removed her robe and slippers, then pulled back the covers of her bed. It was certainly large enough for two, although a thought unsettled her as she climbed in. Once, when she was a child, one of her schoolmates told Meg she’d spoken in her sleep. What if she did so again, only said something incriminating for Evie to hear?

Perhaps she shouldn’t have let her guilt force her into accepting Evie’s request after all.

“Can we sleep with the light on?” Evie asked.

“Yes, if you like,” Meg said. It was just as well; she didn’t plan on falling asleep until well after Evie did anyway. If at all.

Evie crawled into the bed beside Meg. “Thank you so much for this, Meg. You know, I’m sorry I ever played any pranks on you. Here or at school. I honestly like you.”

“Thank you, Evie,” Meg said, but rather than welcoming the words, her heart went leaden. “I like you, too.”

Meg woke with a start. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen so thoroughly asleep, though she must have dozed more than once during the night. The sun shone brightly through the open window.

Then she remembered Evie, but the bed was empty.

Meg sat up. Pindar was still there, the bird’s outline sharp against the light through the open curtains. He eyed her unflinchingly, a cold-eyed, accusing stare.

“Good morning,” Evie said. She was at the dressing table, fully dressed. Meg’s robe had been neatly cast aside and her slippers were nowhere in sight. Meg saw instantly that in the light of day Evie did not look at all as timid as she had last night.

With a glance at the clock, Meg realized it was later than she’d assumed. Past ten.

“Is Nelson meeting with the staff?” Meg threw aside the covers. “I must get dressed.”

“The meeting already happened,” Evie said. “I didn’t want to wake you.” Her voice sounded strangely cold.

“I wish you would have,” Meg said. How could she have slept so soundly? Then she eyed Evie again, who stared back in a peculiarly intense manner. There wasn’t a trace of leftover fear, which was a relief, but next to her reestablished self-confidence there was something else. Curiosity?

“Will you be all right on your own this morning?” Meg asked, but the moment the question was uttered, Evie broke her stare. She went to Pindar, put him on her shoulder, took up the blanket that had covered the table beneath him, then walked silently from the room.

Evidently she would be fine.

Meg dressed quickly in the first gown she grabbed, one of blue-and-green gingham. There hadn’t been any reason for her to attend the usual Pemberton meeting, but she wished she’d been there to hear what was said. Had the police returned—had anyone other than the police chief arrived? Surely they weren’t going to allow all that gold to be unguarded in a broken safe, gold they didn’t know was worthless. Perhaps they’d moved it already this morning!

After pulling up her hair into a set of combs, Meg emerged to a quiet upstairs hall. She heard voices below and descended. The foyer was empty, but she caught a glimpse of shadow, someone going into the office.

Meg was about to follow when someone called her from the parlor. She turned to see Nelson and Claire. Claire had obviously been crying, and Nelson’s brows were drawn, his mouth set in a grave frown.

Behind them was another man. Although he was dressed in a plain suit of clothing, he had a look of calm authority about him. The police chief?

He stepped around Claire and Nelson to stop in front of Meg.

“Permit me to introduce myself, Miss Davenport. I am Detective Cambridge. And you, young lady, are under arrest on suspicion of burglary.”