"You would not have his address in your account book?” Mama asked. “We are so very anxious to find him,” she added, with a sweet smile that would fool Satan himself.

"I don't,” Bradford answered. “The reverend was a secretive sort of a fellow. I do not mean sly. Pray do not think I am disparaging him. It is just that he kept pretty well to business. If he had not been a man of the cloth, I would have suspected where he was getting all those fine pieces,” he added with a laugh. “But when I dropped him a hint, he told me about his nabob uncle."

"Uncle Barry.” Mama nodded.

"I don't believe he ever mentioned the name. I know from experience that many a fine piece comes from India. If you find your cousin, ladies, tell him I am still open for business."

"Thank you,” I said, and snatched up my sketchpad. We. escaped into the street, trembling like aspens in a gale.

"He was a thief!” Mama gasped. “I am so glad Lord Weylin was not with us."

"At least he did not steal Lady Margaret's necklace."

"He did not sell it to that nice Mr. Bradford,” Mama countered, “but that is not to say he did not steal it. He knew she came to Tunbridge, you see, so he would have got rid of her necklace farther away, in London, very likely. I must be grateful he did not help himself to my poor chips of sapphire, that your papa gave me as a wedding gift."

"We had best get back to the hotel. It is nearly time for lunch,” I said, drawing out my watch to check the time.

"What shall we tell him?” Mama asked, in a frightened way. She meant, of course, Lord Weylin.

"Nothing. We had no luck in finding Uncle Barry."

"I wonder if he discovered anything of his aunt."

We headed back to the hotel, with our heads low, scheming how to hide our disgrace. “We ought to rush straight back to Hernefield, and take these sketches with us,” Mama said.

"I should like to make a detour to Ashdown Forest, and see if we can find any trace of Reverend Portland first."

"Impersonating a minister! That was really too bad of Barry. But not so bad as stealing all that jewelry.” She came to a dead stop. “Zoie! Our wits have gone begging! The money he got from Bradford must be in his house at Ashdown Forest-if he actually had such a house. That might be more lies."

"We have found no trace of him at any of the local hotels. It is worth a try."

"We shall go as soon as we can be rid of Weylin,” Mama declared.

When this was settled, we continued on our way back to the hotel, and lunch with Lord Weylin.

Chapter Eleven

Lord Weylin had not returned to the hotel when we arrived. We went abovestairs to tidy up for luncheon, and make further plans to delude him. I was sorry to cut Weylin out of our adventure. It was not every day such an eligible gentleman crossed my path. Mama had warned me against setting my cap for him; indeed I knew myself he was above my touch, but common sense never prevented a lady from hoping. If he was interested in me, there was nothing to prevent him from following up the acquaintance after we got back to Hernefield. He had said he wished to see my paintings.

Weylin had still not returned when we went downstairs. It was well past the time we had agreed to meet. His tardiness suggested he had found some clue that he was following up. We inquired at the desk whether he had left a message.

The clerk handed me a note. “It is not from his lordship. This arrived with the noon mail,” he said. I recognized Brodagan's broad fist. Mama and I took it to the parlor.

"This will be some tale of woe. Brodagan and Steptoe have come to cuffs very likely,” Mama said, ripping the note open. She glanced at it, gave an angry tsk, and handed it to me.

With amendments to spelling for your convenience, this is what I read:

Steptoe has upped and gone with never a word to a soul. His head never dented his pillow last night, for I used my key when he did not come down this morning and saw it for myself. The creature was still here when Lord Weylin's footman stopped for milady's book of pictures. Steptoe was quizzing the lad at the doorway. It would not surprise me if he has lit out for Tunbridge to do you a mischief. A look before you is better than two behind, milady. Mrs. Chawton has been hounding us to death to know about the Book Society. Mary has got a boil on her nose and looks like a witch. Your servant, Mrs. Brodagan.

"Steptoe!” I said. “Now what can he be up to?"

"No good-that is certain,” Mama replied. “We must keep an eye peeled for him."

When Lord Weylin had still not returned ten minutes later, we ordered wine to pass the time. No sooner was it poured than he came rushing in, full of apologies.

"Did you find any trace of Lady Margaret?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I have been at every hotel in town, public and private. It is a complete mystery to me where she stayed. I begin to think she had a fellow in London, and was pulling the wool over our eyes with her tale of coming to Tunbridge Wells. Did you ladies have any luck?"

"No,” we replied in unison, with suspicious alacrity.

I feared Weylin would notice our wary manner, but he was distracted. It was not long in dawning on me that he was concealing a secret himself. His manner was too hearty and his avowals of how hard he had looked were too strong not to cause suspicion. I feared he had learned Barry's secret, and was trying to hide it from us. If he had made inquiries at the Kashmir Jewelry Shop, for instance, Bradford might have said, “That is odd. I had two ladies in looking for their cousin this very morning.” Our description would leave Weylin in little doubt who the ladies were. But why keep it from us? Was it gentlemanly concern for our feelings, or was his reason darker?

We ordered lunch, and while we ate, I asked nonchalantly, “Did you go to any jewelry shops, milord, or only to hotels?"

His head jerked up. “Jewelry stores? No. Why do you ask?"

He had certainly been to jewelry stores. “Because of your aunt's missing necklace,” I replied with an innocent stare.

"No, there was not time. The best course is for me to make a few inquiries in London. It seems my aunt was not coming to Tunbridge all these years at all. Are you ladies about ready to throw in the towel? I fear it is a hopeless case."

Mama relaxed into a smile of relief. “We were thinking we might as well be getting on home, too,” she said.

"Very wise. We are hunting for a mare's nest. It was foolish to think we could discover anything at this late date."

Once it was established we were all leaving Tunbridge, Lord Weylin became quite merry. It was obvious he wanted to get away from us as much as we wanted to be rid of him.

"In fact,” he said, “I see no reason to waste a whole afternoon. I shall set out for London right after lunch."

"We might as well go home, too,” Mama said. I agreed, but said I would visit the shops first, to make it sound casual.

Weylin was on his feet without even waiting for dessert. “I shall settle up the bill here and be on my way, then. I shall ask them to keep the parlor for your use until you leave. You might want tea after raiding the shops, Miss Barron."

"Let us split the bill,” Mama said. “We have had more use of the parlor than you. There are two of us."

He lifted his hand in a peremptory way. “Allow me."

"We must pay for our own mutton at least,” Mama insisted.

"You have been an inestimable help. May I call on you when I return?” He looked at me and continued, “You were kind enough to say I might see some of your paintings, Miss Barron."

"We shall be happy to see you, milord,” I replied.

Mama reminded him of the notice he was to put in the journals, asking if anyone had seen his aunt.

"I forgot to do it. No point now,” Weylin said. That suggested to me that he already had a line on her. “I look forward to seeing you at Hernefield in a day or two. Ladies.” He bowed and scurried out the door as if chased by a bear.

Mama clapped her hands together and laughed. “There is one stroke of luck. We shan't have to worry about Weylin finding out about Barry. I doubt he will learn much in London."

"Let us give him half an hour to get on his way before we go to Ashdown Forest,” I said, and poured another cup of tea.

"What about Steptoe?” Mama asked. “One of us should remain here to keep an eye out for him."

"If he shows up, he should be followed,” I agreed, “but do you not think it more likely he is here to follow us?"

"It is not certain he is here at all. He may have taken advantage of our absence to go off to a horse race or dogfight. Still, I think I should remain behind, Zoie. I shall stay at the hotel for an hour, then take a stroll along the Pantiles and look about for him."

"I am the one who should stay, Mama. You could not keep up with the weasel if it comes to following him on foot."

"You would be mistaken for a lightskirt if you were to dawdle about the colonnade alone. No, I shall stay, and you take the carriage to Ashdown Forest to inquire after Reverend Portland,” she said, giving the alias a disdainful accent.

That is what we did. I took the sketch of Barry disguised as a minister. The road to Ashdown Forest led through a well-wooded weald, the remains of the immense oak forest that once provided the best oak timber for building ships. While the carriage clipped along, I mentally arranged my plans. I would stop at the post office to inquire for Reverend Portland's address. If Uncle had bought the cottage he lived in, then presumably it now stood empty, for it was not mentioned in his will. I would get Rafferty, our groom, to help me break in and search the place for clues, if it was in a secluded location. If Uncle had only hired the cottage, then perhaps the new occupants or the neighbors could tell me something about him.