She managed to sleep for a few hours, awakening after breakfast had been served. She was happy enough to have nothing but tea and toast brought to her room, where she intended to spend the rest of the day. Let Miss Dalrymple fuss all she wanted, Mary thought. She refused to face Sir Royce yet.
Mary considered going through some of the things in her mother’s trunks again. They had not read all the diaries. Or perhaps she could investigate the nursery, looking for books and such that had belonged to Flora. Neither of those prospects aroused her interest. The thought of the trunks reminded her of the attic, however, and the stack of letters addressed to Sir Royce that she had found. Could those have been love letters from Sabrina? The possibility tugged at her, and she itched to go up into the attic and retrieve the bundle.
It would be wrong, she thought, a terrible invasion of Royce’s privacy, and she must not do it. But it was difficult to deny the urge, and her mind returned to it often as she ate her toast and got dressed. Finally, to distract her wayward thoughts, she decided to take out the ripped nightgown that she had hidden in the trunk more than a week ago and repair it.
Going to the chest at the foot of her bed, she groped under the blankets to bring out the wadded-up gown. It was only after she closed the lid of the trunk that she realized that something had seemed odd. Opening the chest again, she looked thoughtfully at the contents. Then it struck her—the case in which she had carried her papers was not wedged between the blankets and the wall of the chest.
Frowning, she dug into the trunk and felt around the inner walls, searching for the small leather satchel. She even thrust her hand under the blankets and between them, just in case some maid had shoved it out of the way. She was certain she had put the satchel in that trunk, but just to make sure, she rifled through all her drawers and even searched the bottom of the wardrobe. The case was nowhere to be found.
Stuffing the nightgown into her sewing bag, Mary rang for Prue. The maid had not seen the leather case, but she looked again in all the places Mary had tried, even getting down on hands and knees to look under the bed.
Next, Mary went in search of her sisters, whom she found rather easily by following the sound of their laughter to the library downstairs. She stepped inside and saw her three sisters sitting around one of the tables with Fitz and Royce. Mary came to an abrupt halt, her gaze going to Royce. In her puzzlement over the missing satchel, she had not considered that she might run into Royce. She turned hot, then cold, and her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth. Fervently she wished that she had never entered the room, but she could hardly leave now.#p#分页标题#e#
Finally she managed to tear her eyes from Royce and turn to Rose. “What are you doing?” she asked as she glanced around suspiciously. “Where is Miss Dalrymple?”
“Shh.” Fitz held an admonitory finger to his lips. “We have given her the slip.”
“Cousin Fitz is teaching us faro,” Camellia told her with a grin.
“Yes, and I am inclined to believe Cousin Camellia has sadly misled me about her lack of knowledge of the game,” Fitz added. “She is, I fear, a Captain Sharp. As you can see, she has vastly reduced my fortune.” He waved at the pile of buttons before him.
“I can see you are in drastic circumstances.” Mary sent him a dry look. “I hope you are not leading my sisters astray. Will Miss Dalrymple disapprove of this?”
“Have you not heard?” Lily piped up. “Anything Cousin Fitz does is perfect as far as our Miss Dalrymple is concerned. He has replaced Sir Royce in her affections.”
“I am quite downcast over the matter.” Royce smiled in a way that Mary felt all through her. “You needn’t worry. Faro is a perfectly acceptable game for ladies of the ton.”
Mary refused to smile at him in return. It was beyond irritating that she could feel as angry and hurt as she did and still be affected by his smile.
“Come and join us, Mary,” Rose offered. “We can add another person.”
“No,” Mary refused hastily. “I am doing some, um, darning.” She ignored the eyebrow that Royce raised in polite disbelief.
Lily wrinkled her nose. “I hope you are not going to ask us to join you.”
“No. The thing is, I noticed that my satchel is missing. I cannot find it anywhere, and I wondered if one of you might have taken it.”
Five similarly blank faces gazed at her.
“The case that had our papers in it,” Mary explained.
“Why would I want that?” Lily asked, puzzled.
“I don’t know why anyone would, but you girls are the only ones who are likely to have borrowed it.”