She nods. “I did.”
“Good. I heard you were looking for it, and I was concerned.”
“It was misplaced, that is all.”
They say their goodbyes, and Isla and I head in the other direction.
“You got the locket from my things,” I say. “I was worried it might have gone missing.” I glance back at Gray, his long legs carrying him out of earshot already. “That is why I came here last night.”
“I know.”
Is it my imagination or has her face gone as hard as her brother’s, her blue eyes chilling?
I open my mouth.
“This is the last straw, Catriona,” she says, gaze still forward as she walks. “That is what I took you aside to say, beyond the reach of listening ears at home. You will return to pack your things. If you do so without complaint, without bothering my brother or Mrs. Wallace, without upsetting Alice…”
She hands back Catriona’s switchblade, along with the few coins that’d been in my pockets. Then she lifts the sovereign she took from Gray. “A month’s wages. I will double it if you do not attempt to argue your case now. I am finished with you, Catriona. I cannot trust you, and I cannot have you in our house.”
“B-but I got your necklace back.”
“You got my necklaceback?” She looks over, brows shooting up. “Do you think me a fool? You were trying tosellmy necklace. That’s how you came to be attacked last night. Either you flashed it in front of the wrong person, or you tried to sell it to the wrong person.”
I inwardly wince. I was attacked in Catriona’s old haunt, with Isla’s necklace on me, as if I’d sat in that library yesterday, listened to her pleasfor its return, and heard only that I should sell it before she searched my room.
“I sold it before my accident,” I say. “To a pawnshop. After we spoke, I knew I had to get it back. That’s what I was doing. I recovered it just before I was attacked.”
“A pawnshop?”
“Er, yes, a place where people sell items for money.”
“I know what a pawnbroker is, Catriona. I meant that, if this is your story, it is easily proven. Take me to this shop, and I shall speak to the owner. Let us see whether he confirms your story.”
“I have never laid eyes on this girl in my life,” Dover says as we stand in his shop. “I certainly did not buy that necklace from her. It’s obvious that such a piece would have been stolen, probably from her mistress. I am an honest man who loans money to the poor for their belongings in times of need. I do not deal in stolen goods.”
“Of course you don’t,” I say. “But I misrepresented myself to you, sir.”
His eyes narrow at “misrepresent” as if he doesn’t know the word and presumes I’m casting aspersions on his character.
“I lied,” I say flatly. “I told you it was my grandmother’s locket, and I had to sell it to feed the baby. Then I said my brother gave me money to buy the necklace back. There is no baby. I have no brother. I lied, and I’m sorry that I duped you, sir. The truth is that I stole it from my mistress and then regretted it. You had no way of knowing it was stolen goods.”
He doesn’t take my excuse. Either he’d seem like a fence or a fool, and he won’t be either, especially in front of a proper lady like Isla.
When we finally leave, I say, “I warned you, ma’am. He won’t admit he bought stolen goods even accidentally, for fear of a police investigation. You could tell he was lying, couldn’t you?”
“No, Catriona. I could not, which means either he’s telling the truth or I have a poor ear for detecting falsehoods. I believe, at most, that you have sold him goods before and hoped he’d go along with your story in expectation of future business from you.”
“Then why would I have tried to dissuade you from speaking to him?”
Her brows lift. “Do you honestly think that trying to stop me fromproving your claim worked in your favor? You hoped to dissuade me, and when you could not, you hoped he would lie for you.”
We keep walking. My mind whirrs, looking for solutions. No one likes being made to play the fool, and that’s what I’ve done to Isla. She thinks I had no fear of losing my position because my employer is a silly, wealthy woman who fancies herself a philanthropist. Shed a few tears and spin a few lies, and no matter what happened, I’d keep my job.
“You will pack your things,” she says. “My offer stands. I will even keep it at two pounds, despite this. Come home, pack, and leave quietly. The alternative?” She looks at me, locking gazes. “I trust you did not enjoy your night in a cell. The courts have no sympathy for servants who steal from their employers.”
“I didn’t—” I bite it off. “I know you don’t believe me, ma’am. Forget the two pounds. I’ll go quietly if I must. No bribe required. But is there some way I can make this up to you? I’ll forgo my salary. Take on extra tasks. Give up my privileges—”
“No. I am sorry, Catriona, but you are leaving today, without references. I cannot lie to future employers. I would advise you to take the two pounds.”