Chapter 7

Lord Reeds took a few steps into the center of the room with his hands over his hips as he bellowed, “And you seem so sure of it?”

“I’m not,” Nicholas said with disinterest. His thin fingers brushed back his careless wavy brown hair, pinning it behind his ears to reveal his elegant, almost sublime looking face. “But I notice things.”

“What did you notice on the night she disappeared?” I asked, as I pulled my scrunched-up notebook out of my coat pocket. I waved away the cloud of smoke coming from Lord Hugh’s cigarette, before I flipped open the page to the right date.

“She was dressed very beautifully,” Nicholas softly stated. “She braided her hair up with glossy white ribbons; it must have taken her maid hours to do it that way. She wore a bright red dress, almost crimson, like the colour of blood. That was never Victoria - she always wore soft delicate colours. She never wanted to be the center of attention. Our name is enough.”

Nicholas looked down to do the straps to his leather casing. His fingers were thin and slender, agile enough to conduct so fine an instrument. His face was pale when he looked up at me, eyes uncommonly dark like his sister Carian. “She was happy… excited for the party. She wanted everything to be perfect.” He paused and looked down at his casing, as if he were trying to recollect some thoughts. “I was performing that night with the band. She danced with a lot of men I wasn’t well acquainted with.”

“Did they look like trouble?” Lord Reeds anxiously inquired with an uneasy look about him. “Lower class men?”

“They were gentlemen,” he assured his father. “Of the highest order.”

“Foreigners?”

“They were all Englishmen.”

“You never know these days,” he grumbled. “When a woman is in high command, everything falls apart.”

I tried my best not to roll my eyes, a thing severely hard when his son did it so openly. “Did Victoria go outside at all?” I inquired. “Some ladies like to go out for some fresh air upon the balconies and such.”

“No, she was always near the dance floor.”

“Did she drink?”

“Victoria doesn’t drink.”

“Smoke?”

“She doesn’t smoke.”

“Anyone paying her particular attention?”

“None that I noticed.”

“Was she happy?” I asked, as my pen hovered over the page ever so slightly.

“She giggled a lot. I suppose she was happy in her own way.”

“Carian claimed she looked sad when she was coming home.”

“She had too much fun?” Nicholas suggested. “Victoria likes to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Like you?” I asked without thinking it through.

“Like me,” he answered in a calming voice. “I may appear emotionless, but believe me I want Victoria home just like everybody else.”

“Then you need to answer a few more questions. When was the last time you saw her?”

“The party. I took a separate carriage home since I was playing there late at night for Lady Ross.”

“Were you paid?”

“No, I do it for pleasure.”

“Your pleasure, or hers?”

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with my sister.”

My pen froze over my paper, as I darted one eye in his direction for a moment. “Did you say goodbye to your sister before you left?”

“No.”

“Do you regret it?”

Nicholas pursed his lips funnily, cleared annoyed by my persistent questions. “Yes, I regret it. Now, can you please find out where my sister went?”

“One last thing! Do you have any idea what happened to her that night?”

“No.”

“Because I think you would have been the last one to arrive home. Am I right?”

“I came home after midnight.”

“Then you are the last one that walked through the door.”

“I didn’t see or hear anything.”

“You slept well?’

“Like a baby.”

“Have you watched a baby sleep?” I laughed. “They take forever to get there. You know what I think… I think you noticed something last night that you’re not telling me.”

“I felt…” he paused and shot a shy glance at his father. “I felt like someone was watching me.”