Read Online The Bloodied Cravat by Rosemary Stevens - Free Book Online

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    “George! Let me show you what Signor Tallarico has given me for my birthday,” Freddie said, rising from the sofa. We met in the middle of the room. Tallarico stood frustrated by the sofa. Freddie held out her hand so I could see the gift. “Are they not charming?”
    I looked down at a pair of matching antique hair ornaments, made of solid jet. The tops of the baubles were fashioned into cubes of jet decorated with gold inlay. Each ornament was about four or five inches in length, the jet narrowing from the cube and finally forming a sharp-looking point at the end.
    “Pretty trinkets,” I said. “Grecian?”
    Tallarico strolled over, grinning. “Roman. Most difficult to find a matched pair in a condition perfetto . But the Royal Duchess is worth the effort.”
    “I thought the exact same thing when I had a dress made of Brussels lace for her Royal Highness last autumn,” I said.
    I could have kicked myself the moment the words were out of my mouth. Freddie studied the antique trinkets with intense concentration. Tallarico looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. The Italian would be sure to know that a Brussels lace dress would be worth much more than hair ornaments. He would be bound to speculate as to the exact nature of my relationship with Freddie.
     I know what you are thinking, that it was indiscreet of me to boast of my extravagance. What excuse can I offer? None, really. Tallarico’s scorn of my birthday gift to Freddie of the spaniel still rankled.
    I broke the awkward silence. “If you will excuse us, Tallarico, I have something I wish to discuss with the Royal Duchess. In private.”
    The Italian bowed low over Freddie’s hand, kissing the air an inch above it. “You must promise to save me two dances this evening, your Royal Highness, else my misery will be so great, I shall impale myself on my dress sword.” He grinned at her.
    Freddie laughed softly. “You give me no choice, then. I cannot allow you to do yourself an injury. Your request is granted.”
    Impatiently, I marched over to the double doors and ushered the smug Italian outside the room. He spoke to me in a low voice, a strong measure of mischief in his brown eyes. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
    I snapped the door shut in his face.
    Freddie placed the hair ornaments down on one of the marble pedestals next to a bust of a dog named Trumpet. Before she could remark upon my indiscretion regarding the dress, I said, “I have news of your pearls.”
    “What happened?” she asked, her attention diverted.
    “I followed Lord Kendrick to where he and Lady Ariana were engaged in an argument by your dog cemetery. His lordship knew all along that his cousin must have taken the pearls. Evidently, Lady Ariana is in the habit of stealing things, though she claims not to remember what she has done afterward.”
    “How terrible! Ulga, did you hear that? Lady Ariana does have the pearls,” Freddie said.
    Ulga grunted. “I have never in all my years of service to your family lost anything.”
    “Oh, I know that, Ulga. Pray, do not give it another thought.” Freddie took my arm and led me to the sofa. “Let us sit down and decide what to do now.”
    We seated ourselves, and I spoke. “Lord Kendrick will see the pearls returned to you, of that I am sure. Even so, he is an ugly fellow, Freddie, and I don’t just refer to his physical appearance. He was rough with his cousin, he grabbed her chin, and spoke to her harshly. He even threatened to have her committed to a lunatic asylum if she continued to take things that do not belong to her.”
    “Heavens! I will not have such a man at Oatlands.”
    “I truly regret not learning what information Lord Kendrick might have about the highwayman, but—”
    “About the highwayman?” Freddie interrupted. “You think the marquess knows something?”
    My brows came together. “It is just a feeling I have. When you told him you wanted to question him regarding thievery, why