Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX

S he tasted of sweet berries, the kind that ripens in summer and bursts the moment the fruit is placed upon the tongue, and he craved more. He deepened the kiss, drawing the most delightful mewling sound from Miss Rowe?—

"Lennox!" The Duke of Roxburghe pounded on the door, dragging Levi from his erotic dream. "I'm starving."

A myriad of abuses filtered through Levi's mind as the image of Miss Rowe faded. He crawled from his bed, snagged his linen shirt from the floor, and jerked the material over his head.

"May I suggest the kitchen to remedy that issue?" he snarled, yanking the door open.

"And my lack of company?" Roxburghe wiggled his eyebrows.

Levi rubbed his hand over his face. "Is there truly no one else you could think of?"

"Not with your delightful personality." Grinning, Roxburghe strode around Levi, entering the chamber. "We will need to rouse the others. We shouldn't impose on Miss Rowe's kindness for too long."

If she even joined them for the meal…

His pounding head circled around a fuzzy memory from last night—he'd accused Miss Rowe of attempting to trap him into marriage, then said he had absolutely no interest in pursuing anything other than conversation with her.

Except he did. Very much so.

And if it weren't for the infernal wager between him and his friends, he would have done more than dream about kissing Miss Rowe last night.

Roxburghe flung open the drapes, and the bright mid-morning sun struck Levi in the face. He winced, ducking his head and retrieving his trousers.

"You seem quite buoyant this morning," Levi grumbled.

"You would be too if you gave into Cupid." Roxburghe picked up Levi's waistcoat and tossed the stylish article toward him.

"And who am I supposed to love?" Levi snapped, leaning over the bed and dragging the gray waistcoat toward him.

An evil grin flitted across the chamber. "I've heard Miss Rowe is unattached."

"Miss Rowe is…" Levi's voice trailed off, his gaze sliding over the gleaming watch on a small mahogany table.

"Miss Rowe is what?"

"Missing."

"Miss Rowe is missing?"

"Pardon?" Levi shifted his attention to Roxburghe. "What did you say?"

"You said, ‘Miss Rowe was missing'."

"No, my father's ring is missing." Levi swiped his hand at the table. "As well as the gold fob I wore last night."

"Perhaps you knocked them off," Roxburghe said, moving around the corner of the bed.

Levi dropped to his knees, as did Roxburghe, and they scoured the carpet, searching for the jewelry.

"Are you certain you brought them into the room?" Roxburghe asked, lifting the edge of a pale green coverlet. "None of us possessed our complete faculties last night."

"I think I did?" Levi's forehead wrinkled, his mind sifting through dim images. "I offered the fob to Miss Rowe, but she refused me."

And he'd severely offended her.

Roxburghe paused, his head halfway under the bed, and glanced at Levi. "Why would you do that?"

Sighing, Levi sat back on his legs. "I didn't win last night's game."

"Our current lodgings suggest otherwise," Roxburghe said, dropping the coverlet.

"Miss Rowe purposefully drew a card to lose." Levi rubbed the dull headache growing in his forehead. "When I confronted her?—"

"Confronted is a bit harsh," Roxburghe said as he sat up.

Levi hung his head. "It's the correct word for my behavior."

"Do we owe Miss Rowe an apology?"

"I attempted?—"

"Attempted?" Roxburghe scoffed. "You, who are so excellent with words…"

"Her reaction perplexed me," Levi replied, replaying his shadowy version of the memory. "She refused the fob quite vehemently, then cowered as though she expected me to strike her for the rejection."

Roxburghe shrugged. "We know very little about her past. Her father may have been a hard man who thought physical punishment was the best tutor."

"Perhaps…"

Levi rose and extended his hand to Roxburghe, helping his friend climb from the floor. He hadn't considered Miss Rowe's family could be responsible for her bizarre reaction and berated himself for assuming, despite her denial, her fear was due to him.

"I suggest we search the corridor." Roxburghe nudged Levi's shoes with the toe of his boot. "You may have dropped them outside your chamber."

Though he didn't think Roxburghe's theory was correct, Levi nodded. Sinking onto the bed, he pulled on his shoes. Once fully attired, he stood, crossed the room, and ripped open the door.

Mansfield, his fist raised to knock, took a step backward and scowled. "Where did you hide it?"

"Where did I hide what?" Levi asked, glancing back at Roxburghe, whose perplexed expression matched Levi's.

"My gold fob," Mansfield snarled.

"Yours is also missing?" Roxburghe joined them in the corridor.

"What do you mean by ‘also?'" Mansfield glowered at both men.

"Lennox's vanished."

"And," —Levi held up one finger, stopping Mansfield's retort— "my father's ring along with it."

"Thievery!" The word exploded from Mansfield.

"Who would you like to accuse?" Levi asked, keeping his voice even.

He glanced over his shoulder at the closed chamber doors. Mansfield's fury would wake everyone in the house.

"Whoever isn't missing anything!" Mansfield yelled, flinging his arms upward.

"I'm not," Roxburghe said, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Are you accusing me?"

"No," Mansfield said, grinding the word between his teeth.

Levi placed a calming hand on Mansfield's arm. "Let us speak with Warwick and Beaufort to verify if the incident only pertains to us."

"What about the ladies?" Mansfield lowered his voice as though he'd just remembered they were guests in Miss Rowe's home.

"Miss Webb isn't missing anything." Roxburghe blurted out, then reddened, realizing the implication of his words. "That is?—"

Levi held up his hand. "We understand."

Mansfield strode across the hallway, raised his hand, and knocked on the first door. When no man answered, he balled his fist and banged on the door, keeping up the racket until Beaufort cursed and blearily opened the door a crack.

"What do you want?" Beaufort asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you missing anything?" Mansfield asked, his nose an inch from Beaufort's.

Frowning, Beaufort glanced over his shoulder, his gaze scanning the chamber. "Warwick appears to have vanished. Is that what you're seeking?"

"No." Mansfield shoved past Beaufort and entered the room. "Has any of your jewelry disappeared?"

His eyebrows pulling together, Beaufort combed his fingers through the loose strands of dark hair that framed his face and twisted around. He walked to a rumpled bed and rooted through the covers, unearthing a wrinkled black waistcoat. Examining the material, he lifted his gaze to Mansfield.

"How did you know?"

"What's missing?" Levi asked, his throat tightening.

Beaufort's eyes flicked to Levi. "My gold fob."

"Ours as well." Mansfield gestured between him and Levi. "And Lennox's ring."

"Your father's?" Beaufort's eyebrows shot into his hair. "And Roxburghe? Was he affected?"

Levi glanced at Roxburghe, who shifted his weight, focusing the whole of his attention on the open doorway.

"He was not. However," Levi continued before Beaufort accused Roxburghe of theft, "he has a witness to confirm his whereabouts."

"Is it Warwick?" Beaufort slashed his arm toward the other bed.

The corner of Mansfield's mouth pulled into a half-scowl. "We don't know where he is."

Beaufort snorted. "Have you investigated the library? Whenever Warwick deigns to bless me with his delightful personality, he always finds his way to that room."

"Why is everyone yelling?" Miss Webb's soft question drew Roxburghe to her side.

He slipped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"It appears Lennox, Mansfield, and Beaufort are missing pieces of jewelry they possessed prior to entering this house."

"Are you accusing Miss Rowe of theft?" Miss Webb jerked free of Roxburghe's embrace, fire flashing in her honey-colored eyes.

"No one has been faulted," he replied, wrapping her in his arms again. "We're in the process of determining what occurred last night."

"Why is everyone awake?" Disheveled, Miss Rowe appeared in the doorway, her chest heaving as though she'd run the length of the corridor in her stockings.

Miss Webb peered at her around Roxburghe. "Several items of value have vanished."

"A thief?" Paling, Miss Rowe's hands flew to her mouth. "In my home? Are you certain?"

Levi stepped forward, an unexplained need to ease the fear growing in Miss Rowe's eyes flowing through him.

"We haven't determined the cause yet. Several of us were not in our right minds last evening; we may have simply misplaced the pieces."

"All three of us?" Mansfield growled, causing Miss Rowe to flinch.

She took a step backward, hovering between the chamber and the hallway as though she intended to take flight the moment anyone approached her.

Sliding between Mansfield and Miss Rowe, Levi glared at Mansfield, then turned his back, favoring Miss Rowe with a kind smile.

"I suggest we split up and search both floors," he said, keeping his tone soothing.

"I'll rouse Winifred," Miss Webb said and detangled herself from Roxburghe's amorous grasp. "She'll want to be involved in the hunt."

Compacting herself into a smaller space, Miss Rowe moved aside, allowing Miss Webb past.

"Would you ask your sister if she's missing anything as well?" Miss Rowe's soft voice cracked.

"Please don't place the blame for this unfortunate incident on yourself." Miss Webb reached out a comforting hand but paused when Miss Rowe pulled away, and, without bringing any attention to Miss Rowe's strange reaction, she dropped her arm, murmuring, "I'll see to Winifred."

Miss Fernsby-Webb, though not missing any personal items, demanded they summon the parish constable immediately. Her sister, pointing out his first question would be if they'd thoroughly searched the house, convinced Miss Fernsby-Webb to assist in the room investigation before they contacted Mr. Hughes to investigate.

They split into two groups, with both sisters, Roxburghe, and Beaufort descending the staircase.

An argument arose from the first floor regarding whether they should search for Warwick or explore the parlor. The group split again, with Miss Webb and Roxburghe choosing the parlor and Miss Fernsby-Webb and Beaufort heading toward the library.

Levi exited Mansfield's room, offering a tight smile to Miss Rowe. "Shall we begin with Miss Webb's chamber?"

Silently, Miss Rowe inclined her head and then led them down the hallway.

Catching up to Levi, Mansfield grabbed hold of Levi's shoulder. "You don't think we'll find anything in there, do you?"

"Certainly not." The corner of Levi's mouth pulled. "Roxburghe's fiancée doesn't need to steal. However, we must be thorough, and that means we look through every chamber on this floor."

He didn't want to think any of the ladies were capable of theft. Though Miss Fernsby-Webb had been in prison for that very reason several weeks prior, Roxburghe had proved the accusation false, earning both sisters' unending and slightly annoying gratitude.

They consistently favored Roxburghe's argument, no matter how illogical.

"What are we searching for?" Miss Rowe asked, returning to the doorway.

The intoxicating scent of lily of the valley floated toward him.

Levi shrugged off Mansfield's hand and strode forward. "Three gold fobs and one ruby ring."

"That's not very descriptive," she replied, then shrugged. "Although, I suppose those items would look conspicuous in a house with no male residents. Therefore, if the pieces are here, we shall surely discover them."

"Thank you for your assistance, Miss Rowe," Levi said, moving as close to her as respectably possible. "I'm most concerned about the ring. It belonged to my father. It's the last remaining possession of his that my brother and I?—"

He turned away and stared at the wall, the word catching in his throat.

Miss Rowe's soft hand touched the crook of his elbow. "I swear, we will find your father's ring."

"I didn't know you were given to swearing," he said, forcing a watery smile. "I may have to reconsider our friendship, Miss Rowe."

She grinned. "For the better, I hope."

"That depends entirely upon the extent of your vocabulary." He arched his eyebrows.

"I'm always working to improve myself, Your Grace."

Impertinent.

This time, she didn't flinch when he leaned closer. Instead, she jutted out her chin, challenging him.

Lord help him, the action only served to increase the fire burning inside him. If he didn't counteract this obsession soon, it would cost him ten thousand pounds. Only now, that amount didn't seem to be such a sacrifice—the loss of Miss Rowe did.

"I commend your dedication, Miss Rowe," he replied, rolling her name across his tongue.

A low rumble emanated from Mansfield as he stomped around them, heading for the armoire. However, when he reached the far wall, he hesitated, then twisted around, his dark eyes finding Miss Rowe.

"Perhaps you should inspect her clothing," he said, a faint tinge of red crawling into his face.

"A fine idea, Your Grace," she replied, curtseying to Levi, then floated across the floor, taking the delightful scent of lily of the valley with her.

As he expected, the inspection of Miss Webb's chamber and her sister's did not yield results. The only remaining room on the second floor was Miss Rowe's, and though reluctant to make the demand, Levi requested to search her chamber as well.

"Of course," she said, clasping her hands in front of her waist and leading them toward her room. "It wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it?"

Before she opened the door, shouting reverberated from downstairs.

Levi ran toward the staircase with Mansfield close behind. They raced down the steps and careened around the corner, the pounding of their shoes echoing down the corridor. Locking their gazes on the doorway, they rushed toward the library.

"If it's another dead man," Mansfield huffed, "I'm never inviting you to my home again."

"Agreed," Levi replied as they exploded into the room.

The downstairs group, save Warwick, who lounged in an armchair nearest the fireplace, gathered in the corner of the library. Roxburghe and Beaufort crouched on the floor, their heads together, and Miss Webb and her sister stood beside them, holding a portion of the cream-colored drapes.

"What did you find?" Levi asked, striding toward them.

"It appears," Roxburghe said, flicking his gaze to Miss Rowe as she entered, "someone broke the window latch and entered the house while we were sleeping."

The color drained from Miss Rowe's face, and she froze, glancing behind her. "Do you think he's still inside?"

"She." Beaufort moved aside, revealing a slushy stain on the rug. "There's a footprint beneath the window, one much too small to have been made by a man."

Miss Rowe edged closer, tucking her trembling hands into her chest, and inspected the footprint.

"Did anyone see the culprit?" she asked, her voice barely carrying across the room.

Roxburghe gestured toward the fireplace. "Warwick had the opportunity. He spent most of his morning in the library."

She spun around and approached Warwick, twisting her fingers together into a jumbled knot as she walked toward him.

"Your Grace." She curtsied. "I apologize the chamber was not to your liking."

"It was." Warwick frowned. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"You slept here." Miss Rowe gestured at the bookshelves.

A tiny smile fluttered across his face. "I didn't. I woke hungry and didn't want to disturb the house. Therefore, I made something to eat,"—Beaufort snorted, earning a glower from Warwick— "and brought the plate in here to read."

Roxburghe growled.

"I know what you think about combining books and food," Warwick said, shifting his eyes to Roxburghe. "However, no tomes were damaged in my early morning escapade."

"And," Miss Rowe pressed, her wispy voice concerning Lennox, "you truly didn't encounter another person?"

Rising, Roxburghe indicated the torn drape. "We surmised Warwick startled the intruder when he exited his chamber. The woman waited until he entered the kitchen and escaped through the library window to avoid capture."

"What should we do?" Miss Rowe asked, her gaze sliding from Roxburghe to Levi.

Fighting the urge to wrap a comforting arm around Miss Rowe, Levi inched closer.

"Send Mrs. Hawkins for the parish constable."

"And," Beaufort said as he stood, "we can search Mrs. Hawkins' bedchamber while she's attending to that errand."

Miss Rowe nodded and left the library, declining Miss Webb's offer to accompany her to Mrs. Hawkins' chamber. Several minutes later, a dreadful screech rippled down the corridor. Mrs. Hawkins, strands of black hair sticking out from her misshapen braid, appeared in the doorway, chest heaving. Her critical gaze slid across the room.

"Your Graces," she said, performing a deep curtsey. "I'm ever so grateful for your presence. Without you here, tonight might have resulted in a worse tragedy than burglary." Reaching behind her, she grabbed Miss Rowe's hand, dragging her forward. "This is the reason you should hire a man."

"The Duke of Beaufort believes the culprit was female," Miss Rowe replied, nodding toward Beaufort.

Mrs. Hawkins' eyebrows shot up, and she nodded once. "I'll return with the parish constable."

"Wait a moment, Mrs. Hawkins." Roxburghe stopped her. "Before you leave, would you place your foot beside the print? We'd like to compare the size."

"Certainly, Your Grace." Mrs. Hawkins walked over and lifted her skirt, aligning her foot with the stain on the carpet.

Her foot was too large.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hawkins," Roxburghe said, dismissing her, then he bowed, sending a ridiculous grin to Miss Webb. "My dear."

Giggling, Miss Webb walked over to the print and placed her foot beside the mark.

It matched!

Roxburghe yanked her away from the print, blocking her from the rest of the room with his body.

"You all know it wasn't Nora," he said, darkness lacing his tone.

"We know." Levi held up his hands in a placating manner. "The only thing Miss Webb is guilty of is falling for a scoundrel."

Beaufort nearly split himself in half, laughing.

Edging around him, Miss Fernsby-Webb stepped up to the footprint without request. Like Mrs. Hawkins, her foot was larger than the stain, and she spun, pointing at the carpet.

"Everyone here witnesses the thief is not me," Miss Fernsby-Webb said, waiting until each person confirmed before returning to her sister's side.

Levi couldn't fault her for the display. She'd been falsely imprisoned for months due to her mother's twisted desire for revenge and had only recently regained her freedom.

That just left Miss Rowe.

Levi turned to address her, but Miss Rowe had vanished.