Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

THE CHRISTMAS BALL

T HE FESTIVE HUM of the Christmas Ball enveloped the grand hall as I surveyed the scene. The glittering chandeliers bathed the assembled guests in a golden glow as the orchestra’s waltz swelled with a spirited charm. At the heart of the spectacle stood Eleanor, resplendent in her restored diamond necklace. Its brilliance caught the light with every turn of her graceful head, drawing admiring glances and murmurs of approval. She seemed lighter now, the weight of the weekend's turmoil lifted, her joy evident in her radiant smile as she spoke with her fiancé, Lord Cumberforth.

I approached her, my lips curving into a warm smile. “Congratulations, my dear friend. Your engagement is now official.”

Her face lit up with a mixture of joy and relief before offering me a warm embrace. “Thank you, Rosalynd. Thank you for everything. Without you, my necklace would still be missing, and who knows what might have happened?”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “You should be thanking Lady Burkett, not me. She’s the one who discovered it.”

Eleanor laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Oh, but if you hadn’t burst into her chambers and unsettled her, she might never have suspected something was amiss. She confessed to me that after your visit, she searched her husband’s room. That’s when she found the necklace.”

I raised a brow, clearly amused. “I suppose a bit of dramatic flair has its uses. Speaking of drama, I couldn’t help but notice Felicity’s conspicuous absence tonight.”

Eleanor leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Uncle Martin forbade her from attending. She’s upstairs right now, packing her bags. He’s threatening to send her to a nunnery.”

My eyes widened in mock astonishment. “A nunnery? Felicity? I can’t quite picture her taking vows of poverty and chastity.”

We both burst into laughter, our mirth drawing a few curious glances from nearby guests.

Eleanor dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, still chuckling. “Neither can I. I imagine the nuns would be in for quite the shock.”

“And Felicity,” I added with a sly grin, “wouldn’t last a week.”

Our laughter lingered, a shared moment of levity amidst an evening full of new beginnings and restored harmony.

“Lavinia appears somewhat subdued.” I nodded toward Eleanor’s cousin who was sitting on the fringes among the wallflowers.

“I had a quiet word with her.”

“Oh?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“I told her if she spread any rumors about anyone in our family, I would see to it that everyone knew what she’d been up to in the orangery.”

“Pray tell,” I urged.

“She accosted one of our footmen. By the time our housekeeper interceded, she almost had his trousers off him.”

I giggled. Oh, my.”

“Poor Phillip was so embarrassed he didn’t know what to do.”

“Which one is Phillip?”

“He’s standing there, by the refreshments table.” She nodded in that direction.

Philip was a strapping young man, with a full head of blonde hair, and the body of an Adonis. “Well, at least she has good taste.”

“Father has written a letter to Uncle Wilford informing him of her activities with a strong recommendation to marry her off as quickly as possible before she disgraces herself.”

“Does she have any suitors?” I asked, glancing back at Eleanor.

“Lord Waddling.”

“He must be fifty five years old if he’s a day!”

“And looking for a young wife to warm his bed.”

“Poor Lavinia,” I would never wish an old, randy husband on anyone.

“She brought it on herself.”

Even as we laughed the duke caught my eye. In seemingly predatory fashion, he was approaching the refreshment table where Lord Burkett stood. What could he possibly want to discuss with him?

Lord Burkett’s hawklike gaze darted across the room, perhaps seeking allies in his thwarted schemes. Knowing his type, I anticipated he might attempt further sabotage. It was time to put a stop to that.

“Burkett,” I greeted him evenly, my voice low enough to avoid attracting attention from those nearby.

He turned. “Steele. To what do I owe this pleasure?” The hate in his eyes belied the polite greeting.

I stepped closer, my tone soft but pointed. “Let us dispense with pleasantries. The engagement between Cumberforth and Lady Eleanor is to proceed. I trust you’ll play the doting father-in-law tonight, offering them your hearty congratulations?”

Burkett’s lips thinned. “I’ve already done more than I ought to. This engagement does little to?—”

I narrowed my gaze and gritted my teeth. “If you’re thinking of further impediments, I assure you they’ll backfire. Your machinations with the necklace theft were a disgrace. Were I to make them public—and I will, should you waver—your reputation would suffer irreparable harm. That would hardly be in your or your son’s interest.”

Burkett bristled, his fists tightening at his sides, but I pressed on. “A word of advice: sometimes retreat is the wiser course. Offer your blessings tonight, and I’ll consider the matter closed. Fail to do so, and you’ll find I have a long memory and a relentless sense of duty.”

A flicker of something—defeat, perhaps—crossed his face. He knew he had no choice. With a curt nod, he muttered, “Very well, Steele. You’ve made yourself clear.”

“Oh, one more thing. If you even so much as breathe Lady Rosalynd’s name in the future, it won’t be your reputation that will suffer. A certain part of your anatomy will pay the price.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Burkett sputtered.

“Au contraire, you branleur de cheval . If you don’t believe me, ask Collingsford.” The knave in question had suffered a serious mishap after he’d seduced an innocent young lady.

Burkett turned white as a sheet. “Collingsford? I heard he fell off his horse?—"

“Yes, that’s what he claimed,” I drawled. “The truth is much uglier. Rather unfortunate, don’t you think?” The accident left Collingsford unable to perform the most vital of male functions. Gossip being what it was, of course, everyone knew.

Leaving him in a state of horror, I allowed my steps to carry me back into the glittering swirl of the ball. It was not long before Burkett approached the happy couple, his smile strained but serviceable as he shook his son’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. Eleanor beamed at Burkett, entirely unaware of the coercion behind her future father-in-law’s apparent change of heart.

Satisfied with my efforts, I allowed my gaze to wander until it landed on Lady Rosalynd. She stood by the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples glide past with an air of quiet observation. Her gold gown suited her perfectly, as did the thoughtful expression on her face.

It was time for a different sort of negotiation.

I made my way to her side and bowed slightly. “Lady Rosalynd, may I have the honor of this dance?”

She turned to me, her lips curving into a smile that held more amusement than agreement. “I fear I’m not in the mood for dancing tonight, Your Grace. Perhaps we might promenade instead?”

“An excellent alternative,” I said, offering my arm. She placed her hand lightly on it, and we began a leisurely circuit of the room.

The soft murmur of conversation surrounded us, but we spoke quietly, our words meant only for each other. “A rather eventful weekend,” I remarked.

“To say the least,” she replied with a rueful smile. “I’m glad we solved the mystery, but I can’t help feeling I didn’t truly get to enjoy the festivities. There was no time to celebrate properly.”

I raised a brow. “And how do you propose to rectify that once you return home?”

Her expression brightened. “There’s plenty to keep me occupied. We will celebrate our own holiday festivities, of course. And with the new year, we will have a new purpose. My sister Chrissie is to make her debut this season. We’ll be planning her wardrobe—evening gowns, cloaks, walking dresses, hats, footwear. No detail will be overlooked. Fashion plates from Paris will be perused endlessly.”

I shook my head. “Please, spare me the rest. The intricacies of lace and ribbons are far beyond my comprehension.”

“And what about you, Your Grace?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What responsibilities await you?”

I adopted a mock-solemn expression. “As a leading light in the House of Lords, I’ll be drafting proposals for legislation. It’s a task of monumental importance.”

“Is that so?” she replied. “Then I hope you’ll take note of the Society for the Advancement of Women. We’re submitting a proposal advocating for woman suffrage.”

For a moment, I considered her words, uncertain how to respond. My hesitation must have been evident, but Rosalynd, ever perceptive, did not press me. Instead, she allowed the topic to linger in the air, its significance undeniable.

“Perhaps,” I said at last, “the world is changing more quickly than some of us can grasp.”

She smiled softly, as though acknowledging both my doubt and the possibility of growth. “Perhaps.”

We continued our promenade in companionable silence, the hum of the ball a pleasant backdrop to our thoughts. The events of the weekend had revealed much—secrets, schemes, and a shared determination to set things right. I should be satisfied—and I was. But I couldn’t help but feel there should be more.

As the evening drew to a close and the strains of the orchestra signaled the final dance, I turned to her. “Now that we’ve solved the mystery, perhaps we can look forward to simpler pleasures.”

She tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Simpler, Your Grace? I can’t imagine you’d settle for anything so mundane.”

I laughed, a genuine sound that surprised even me. “Perhaps not. But I find the prospect of certain complications rather appealing.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she met my gaze steadily. “Then I suppose we’ll see where those complications lead.”

As the final notes of the waltz faded into the night, the room seemed to glow with warmth and cheer. The mystery was solved, the stolen necklace restored, and the future of one young couple secured. Yet, as I bid goodnight to Lady Rosalynd, I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, someway our lives would intertwine once more.

Did you enjoy THE STOLEN SPARKLER? If you did, you may wish to read A MURDER IN MAYFAIR , Book 1 in the Rosalynd and Steele Mysteries.

London. 1889. Lady Rosalynd Rosehaven . Fierce advocate of women’s causes. As guardian of her brothers and sisters, she considers herself a spinster. The Duke of Steele . A leader in the House of Lords. After the tragic death of his wife, he’s sworn to remain a widower. Although they once worked together to find a stolen necklace, their paths are not likely to cross again.

But when her cousin is suspected of her husband’s murder and the duke’s brother is implicated as well, Steele suggests they join forces to investigate the killing. Such an alliance would upset Rosalynd’s well-ordered life. She'd found the duke arrogant, aloof, and . . . fascinating. However, she has no choice but to accept his offer. Proving her cousin's innocence takes precedence over her nonsensical misgivings.

As they track down clues from the opulent mansions of Mayfair to the sordid streets of St. Giles, they don’t lack for suspects. Few had a good opinion of the victim who was considered a swindler, a card sharp, and worse. When a clue comes to light that leads to her cousin’s arrest, Rosalynd embarks on a dangerous course. Can the duke stop her mad quest before she pays with her life?

From the pen of USA Today Bestselling Author Magda Alexander comes this captivating Victorian historical mystery. Fans of the Bow Street Duchess Mysteries and the Angus Brodie & Mikaela Forsythe series will love A MURDER IN MAYFAIR , Book 1 in The Rosalynd and Steele Mysteries.