Star of the East: A Lady Emily Christmas Story by TASHA ALEXANDER Page A

was,” I said, “but the feeling passed.”
    “I shall do whatever I can to assist you, Emily. It is cruel to render the diamond unwearable, quite against everything for which I stand. You have, I presumed, questioned the staff at length?”
    “Of course. We don’t suspect any of them, not really, and no one admits to having seen someone enter either Sunita’s room to get the jewels or mine, to leave the tika .”
    “I would expect nothing else. Your mother is something of a dragon, from what I can tell. If you worked for her, would you admit to having seen anything out of the ordinary? I should be in mortal fear of being flung from the house without a character.”
    “I agree,” I said. “I did all I could to assure them that Colin and I—”
    “You and your oh-so-devoted husband can offer them nothing. They may prefer you to your mother, but they work for her, and you are her daughter. You have no authority when it comes to their situations. Let me cast my spell over them all. I will find out whatever it is you cannot.”
    “Thank you.” I sighed. “I am in your debt.”
    “I would have it no other way. Your husband is beginning to glare at me so I had better return you to him before he challenges me to a duel. Such a thing would be tedious in the snow and regardless, I object to firing pistols on Wednesdays.”
    Dinner that evening was an extraordinary affair. Sebastian doted on my mother, ignored the maharini, and rose from his chair halfway through the meal to announce that he had it on good authority that Sunita was the most beautiful girl on earth. When the ladies retired to the drawing room, I made the excuse of having a headache, and went upstairs, where I followed the corridors that would lead me to the Blue Room rather than my own. Sally was there, turning down the bed and preparing Sunita’s nightclothes.
    “Do you need something, milady?” she asked.
    “Are you planning to light the fire?” I asked, noticing the chill in the room.
    “No, the princess said she prefers the room cold when she sleeps.”
    I poked at the ashes in the hearth. “I am hoping our thief has left some clue as to his identity.”
    “His identity?” Sally asked. “So you are certain it was a bloke who did it?”
    “Not necessarily. I chose the pronoun not for its specificity but for the sake of simplicity.”
    “You’ve right lost me, milady.”
    “That’s fine, Sally. Don’t let me distract you.” There were the charred remains of burnt paper in the fireplace, and I knew they would not have been left from before Sunita occupied the room. My mother would never have allowed it. I fished them from the ashes and inspected them. Only one bore the remains of writing, and what was left was too little to decipher at all. I could not make out a single letter. I folded them carefully into my handkerchief on the off chance they might prove useful later, and went into the dressing room.
    Sunita’s luggage had been neatly stacked in one corner, and her gowns hung in the armoire. I hated to think how long it must have taken Sally to iron them after Sunita had trampled them on the floor. Her jewelry, all of it in beautifully carved wooden cases, was out on the dressing table. I opened each of them, astonished by what I found inside. The maharaja had spared no expense to see his daughter bejeweled. Many of the pieces, covered with rubies and emeralds, appeared to be antique, but there were at least six items that had to have been recently made, as they were in the style currently favored by society debutantes.
    “Has the princess received any messages during her stay?” I asked, returning to the bedroom, where Sally was smoothing the duvet.
    “Not that I am aware of, milady.”
    I wanted to question her further, to ask her if she—or any of the other servants—had seen someone in the corridor the previous evening, but I believed Sebastian to have been correct in his observation that, no matter what my intentions, my