Midnight Masquerade by Joan Smith

here.” She took a bite of egg and chewed carefully, for her molars were no longer so firmly anchored as they had once been. Even a piece of soft bread or egg could cause a bothersome wobble.
    At least she did not say “How could you?” “Did you notice anything striking or unusual about the man who took your diamond?” he asked.
    “He was about the size of you,” she answered with no particular emphasis. “He moved lightly, quickly—certainly not an old man. His hair looked dark under the stocking. Every inch of his body was covered, even his hands. He wore black pantaloons and black patent slippers, as nearly everyone at the ball did. Actually, Herr Bessler wore silk stockings and breeches. He continues the old customs. The thief was a boor. He wrenched the thing from my neck, leaving a bruise as big as my fist. It’s fortunate I wear high necks to my gowns. I don’t know how the ladies can stand the winter winds across their necks and shoulders. I can tell you nothing more I was too shocked.”
    “A most regrettable incident. Once more, I offer my sincere apologies. I must go now. I hope you will be able to join us belowstairs today.”
    “As to that,” she said, lying back with a comfortable sigh, “I am not at all sure I shall. It has taken its toll on this wreck of a body, but you might send Bessler to me later, in about an hour. He will read to me. You are going to see Deirdre now?” she asked in an imperative way.
    “I expect she will be at breakfast by now,” he prevaricated, and left with a graceful bow, to descend to the breakfast room.
    Deirdre was indeed at the table, though the empty plate before her indicated she had not bothered to order any breakfast. A fairly sleepless night had left its calling card on her face, in the form of half moons under her eyes, in a hazy opal shade of blue. Looking at her with this trace of dissipation, Belami was struck anew at how attractive the woman could be, if only she were not so full of rectitude.
    Belami ignored Pronto, who was also at the table. He bowed and mumbled the absurdity of, “Good morning, ma’am. I hope you enjoyed a good night’s sleep.”
    “Yes, a wonderful sleep,” she answered ironically, suppressing a yawn behind her fingers. “All forty-five minutes of it. Quite delightful.”
    “I have been to see the duchess,” he said, thinking this at least would please the woman. His thinking automatically shifted from girl to woman, when there were blue circles beneath a woman’s eyes.
    “That would account for the mood you are in.”
    “We had an interesting talk,” he said, ignoring her taunt.
    “That is good news. I trust she conveyed to you that any notion of an alliance between us is now over.”
    “That was not the tenor of our talk. I said interesting, not satisfying, not pleasing, not what you and I could wish for. No, she informed me that she would not abuse my sensitivities by refusing cash reimbursement for the stolen jewel, and that this regrettable incident in no way hampers her plan for our marriage. Neither, I might add, did she indicate you had shown any wish to call off.”
    “I could hardly discuss it with her when she was in a state of shock!”
    “Eh?” Pronto asked, setting his cup in his saucer without quite smashing either vessel. His companions looked at him, then at each other, in surprise. Pronto’s beady eyes were focused on the lady; they were brimming with the deepest suspicion. “Insured!” he declared.
    “We hoped this might ensure an end to the engagement.” Belami said.
    “Hear, hear,” Deirdre agreed heartily.
    “Eh?” Pronto demanded again. “Not the deuced engagement. The necklace—it was insured.”
    “How very strange your aunt neglected to mention it,” Belami said, his head turning to stare at Deirdre. The news so cheered him that he picked up a fork and ate a bite of gammon, without once removing his accusing eyes from the lady.
    She was annoyed with herself for being unable to