he murmured against my neck. “But I fear we are far too easily distracted for you to learn much Greek with me as your guide.”
“Such is my misfortune,” I said, turning my head towards him. Before I could bring my lips to his, he pulled away, straightened his jacket, and brushed his hair back from his forehead.
“You’ll notice that Margaret has never arrived,” he said, tugging at a curl that had escaped from my pompadour. “Watch out for Bainbridge.”
I stayed home that night, happy for a quiet evening with Homer. Cécile was at a ball, and knowing that she would be out extremely late, I took my book to bed and soon fell asleep reading. Once again, something disturbed me while I slept, and I awoke around four in the morning, stunned by what I saw. My copy of the Odyssey still lay on my bed, but in it had been placed a single long-stemmed pink rose.Resting on top of the book was a small package and a note. I felt a strong breeze and watched the curtains, which I’d replaced since the burglary, billow. The window had been locked when I went to bed; now it was open.
All at once the darkness of my room was terrifying. Was I alone? Or was the intruder hiding, watching me? Summoning all the courage I could, I lit the lamp beside my bed. The light revealed nothing immediately, and I was too afraid to do a thorough search. I tapped on Cécile’s door, but she did not answer. She had not yet returned home. I started to reach for the bell but did not want to wait alone for my maid. Rushing upstairs to the servants’ quarters, I pounded on Davis’s door.
“Get Mr. Hargreaves at once,” I commanded. My butler did not hesitate, closed the door so he could dress, and was ready to leave the house in fewer than three minutes. My appearance in the servants’ hall had caused quite a commotion. Lizzie poked her head out her door and shrieked when she saw me; soon the entire household was awake. I followed Davis downstairs where I sat on the staircase, clutching my knees to my chest, my back pressed hard against the railing as I accepted, but did not drink, the glass of brandy my maid had handed me. Meg was at least as upset as I was, and I considered offering her some brandy of her own.
Sooner than I could have hoped, Colin burst through the door, Davis right behind him. “What has happened? Where is Cécile?” The moment I’d explained the situation to him, he raced up the stairs, two at a time. Davis organized the footmen, who began to methodically search the house. I knew they would find nothing; the intruder was sure to be long gone. I returned to my bedroom, where I found Colin staring at the note, the rose flung carelessly on the bed.
“Have you read it?” he asked.
“No.” I glanced at the text as he read:
“ Would I were a pink rose, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest grant me grace of thy snowy breast. Bloody hell.” He looked at me. “Forgive me.”
I smiled weakly. “What’s in the package?” He opened it carefully, revealing a small box and another note.
“‘A pink for you and a pink for another. Please return this to the rightful owner.’” Inside the box was a pink gemstone.
“It must be Mr. Francis’s Marie Antoinette diamond,” I said.
“I think you’re right.”
“So my admirer is the cat burglar.”
“He cut a circle of glass from your window and unlocked it. Have you sent for the police?”
“No. I only wanted you.”
He took me in his arms. “You’re trembling.”
“This isn’t like when he broke in before, Colin. He came for me this time,” I said, making no effort to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. “He could have returned the diamond to Mrs. Francis himself. I cannot believe there is no connection between this stone and the murder. And if there is a connection, it is I who am culpable—” I stopped at the sound of a forced cough from my butler as he entered the room. Colin stepped away from me.
“It doesn’t appear that
“Such is my misfortune,” I said, turning my head towards him. Before I could bring my lips to his, he pulled away, straightened his jacket, and brushed his hair back from his forehead.
“You’ll notice that Margaret has never arrived,” he said, tugging at a curl that had escaped from my pompadour. “Watch out for Bainbridge.”
I stayed home that night, happy for a quiet evening with Homer. Cécile was at a ball, and knowing that she would be out extremely late, I took my book to bed and soon fell asleep reading. Once again, something disturbed me while I slept, and I awoke around four in the morning, stunned by what I saw. My copy of the Odyssey still lay on my bed, but in it had been placed a single long-stemmed pink rose.Resting on top of the book was a small package and a note. I felt a strong breeze and watched the curtains, which I’d replaced since the burglary, billow. The window had been locked when I went to bed; now it was open.
All at once the darkness of my room was terrifying. Was I alone? Or was the intruder hiding, watching me? Summoning all the courage I could, I lit the lamp beside my bed. The light revealed nothing immediately, and I was too afraid to do a thorough search. I tapped on Cécile’s door, but she did not answer. She had not yet returned home. I started to reach for the bell but did not want to wait alone for my maid. Rushing upstairs to the servants’ quarters, I pounded on Davis’s door.
“Get Mr. Hargreaves at once,” I commanded. My butler did not hesitate, closed the door so he could dress, and was ready to leave the house in fewer than three minutes. My appearance in the servants’ hall had caused quite a commotion. Lizzie poked her head out her door and shrieked when she saw me; soon the entire household was awake. I followed Davis downstairs where I sat on the staircase, clutching my knees to my chest, my back pressed hard against the railing as I accepted, but did not drink, the glass of brandy my maid had handed me. Meg was at least as upset as I was, and I considered offering her some brandy of her own.
Sooner than I could have hoped, Colin burst through the door, Davis right behind him. “What has happened? Where is Cécile?” The moment I’d explained the situation to him, he raced up the stairs, two at a time. Davis organized the footmen, who began to methodically search the house. I knew they would find nothing; the intruder was sure to be long gone. I returned to my bedroom, where I found Colin staring at the note, the rose flung carelessly on the bed.
“Have you read it?” he asked.
“No.” I glanced at the text as he read:
“ Would I were a pink rose, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest grant me grace of thy snowy breast. Bloody hell.” He looked at me. “Forgive me.”
I smiled weakly. “What’s in the package?” He opened it carefully, revealing a small box and another note.
“‘A pink for you and a pink for another. Please return this to the rightful owner.’” Inside the box was a pink gemstone.
“It must be Mr. Francis’s Marie Antoinette diamond,” I said.
“I think you’re right.”
“So my admirer is the cat burglar.”
“He cut a circle of glass from your window and unlocked it. Have you sent for the police?”
“No. I only wanted you.”
He took me in his arms. “You’re trembling.”
“This isn’t like when he broke in before, Colin. He came for me this time,” I said, making no effort to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. “He could have returned the diamond to Mrs. Francis himself. I cannot believe there is no connection between this stone and the murder. And if there is a connection, it is I who am culpable—” I stopped at the sound of a forced cough from my butler as he entered the room. Colin stepped away from me.
“It doesn’t appear that
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