The office at Gallery Roche on Bay Street received a gentleman visitor that night. The staff had recently grown accustomed to this gentleman’s after-hours visits.
“Oh, Mr. Roche,” Rudolph said, “the lady’s crazy uncle is here again.”
“Sorry I keep crashing your party, Rudolph. C’mon, Roche, have a drink with me! Let’s drown our sorrows!”
“Reggie…you’re in quite a state. Something wrong?” Roche asked.
“Oh, everything’s wrong! My sweet Fiona has gotten too beautiful for her own good, and the thought that it’s his doing makes me furious!”
Reginald set a bottle of wine on the table and flopped onto the sofa. Rudolph cast a bored glance at the familiar sight of Roche and Dennis greeting their guest with sheepish smirks.
“Ah, yes,” said Roche. “She’s at the royal ball tonight, isn’t she?”
“I would have loved to see Miss Fiona all dressed up,” Dennis added.
“The royal ball?” Rudolph cut in. “You’re a noble, Dennis, why aren’t you there?”
Dennis reached out and tussled the boy’s hair. “Tonight’s royal ball is a special affair. Bottom-shelf nobles like me aren’t invited.”
“Huh. I guess noblemen have their own problems,” Rudolph said dubiously. He knew what it was like to be excluded.
“Say, Rudolph, is it true Fiona body-slammed you and caught you trying to pick her pocket?” Reginald asked teasingly.
Dennis beamed. “She sure did. Then we dragged him back here from the alleyway.”
Rudolph squirmed uncomfortably. He didn’t like Dennis blabbing about that embarrassing story as if they were discussing the weather.
“Ha ha! Serves ya right, kid, trying to steal from Fiona.”
Rudolph sulked. “Don’t laugh. Noblewomen aren’t supposed to run that fast.”
“Yes, indeed, our Fiona is a special girl.” Reginald grinned proudly.
“You can say that again. That other noblewoman looked like she couldn’t outrun a snail.”
“What other noblewoman are we talking about now?” Reginald asked, sitting up on the sofa in sudden interest.
“Huh? The lady who told me Fiona was the one who saw through the counterfeit paintings.”
“Whoa, slow down, Rudolph,” Dennis said. “You’ve never told me about this.”
Dennis’s cheerful expression had turned on a dime, filling the once peaceful office with an air of tension. Rudolph faltered. “Wh-what’s the big deal?”
With some patience, Dennis succeeded in convincing Rudolph to recount the events of that day.
“So…you didn’t know who Fiona was before then?” Dennis pressed him.
“Of course not. Some other rich lady told me she was the ringleader.”
“This other rich lady… What was she like?”
Rudolph gave a simple description: She was a shrewd-looking beauty with her blonde hair tied back. Everyone else in the room thought of the same woman. Caroline Burleigh kept popping up everywhere; she’d been the one to send Fiona the threatening letters and stalk her. It was common knowledge that she had her sights set on Giles, but without any concrete evidence of her actions toward Fiona, they could do nothing more than remain vigilant for her presence.
But Caroline was an ordinary noblewoman. And with the gag order on Minster Saquille’s scandal, there was no way she could have known that it was Fiona who exposed the counterfeit paintings for what they were. She also couldn’t have known about Rudolph.
Someone was feeding her information.
“Gordon…?” Roche muttered.
Reginald jumped to his feet noisily. Gordon had been at large for a time before he was arrested. He had testified that he was overseas to buy art during that period, but what if he had actually stayed in the country, laid low, and made contact with Caroline? “Hey, Roche. You said he’s being guarded, right?”
“He’s supposed to be, yes. Let me check and confirm that. Dennis, go straight to the White Palace and inform Lord Lowell. Then we’ll need to go to the Burleigh residence and—oh, blast it, they’re all at the royal ball too!”
The royal ball had already started, and Fiona and Caroline were both there. Dread filled the gallery office.
“I hope we’re just being paranoid,” Roche murmured as a panicked chill ran through the room. He looked out the office window to the dark sky outside.