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Teresa raised an eyebrow. An heiress could afford to be a little rude, she supposed. Much would be forgiven a fortune.
“We solve mysteries,” said Miss Deeping.
“You?” The word was surprised out of Teresa.
Miss Deeping gestured at the four of them. “We,” she repeated. Her gaze held a hint of challenge.
“We found a treasure in Shropshire,” Miss Moran burst out.
Was this what Lord Macklin had meant about a fiancée won in a treasure hunt? Miss Grandison did look proudly smug. The idea was interesting, but Teresa didn’t like the thought of anyone “solving” her. Her history was no one else’s affair. That was a maxim of her new life, and she intended to keep it that way. “I am merely an acquaintance, not a mystery,” she said in a tone that signaled this conversation was over.
“I have a puzzle for you,” said Tom. He had come up behind Teresa and now joined their group. “Or worse,” he added. “Happening over at the theater.”
The girls’ heads turned to him in unison, like a group of cats spotting a bit of dangling string. “What is it?” asked Miss Deeping.
“People disappearing,” said Tom. “Dancers.”
“Another?” asked Teresa before she thought. This was bad news.
“Odile,” replied Tom. “Nobody’s heard from her. She’s not been to her lodgings.” He shook his head. “She’s not the only one either,” he told the young ladies. “It’s the same with two others.”
“Are you saying something happened to them?” asked Miss Moran.
“Can’t help but think so. It’s too odd. Three of ’em to suddenly go off with no word.”
“Perhaps they went together,” said Miss Deeping.
Tom gave a humorless laugh. “That ain’t it. It was at different times. And Odile and Sonia came near to hair pulling more than once. Maria didn’t like either of ’em.”
Teresa had to agree. She could not see these three girls banding together for any purpose.
“So three actresses have vanished,” began Miss Grandison.
“Dancers,” corrected Tom.
“Opera dancers?” Miss Finch looked as if she recognized, uneasily, this phrase.
Teresa almost asked Tom what the ballet master had to say about these absences, but she closed her lips on the question. She would find out later, when the inquiry would draw less attention.
“Why are you speaking of opera dancers?” inquired an indignant voice. The large lady who accompanied the girls had joined them. She loomed, every inch the fierce chaperone. She was also a Grandison, Teresa recalled from the introductions—the mother…no, the aunt, of the younger one.
“Some of them at Tom’s theater have disappeared,” replied Miss Deeping. “It’s a mystery.”
The final word seemed to irritate the older lady. She distributed a glare around the group. Teresa felt she received an extra measure of suspicion. “This is not a suitable subject for your little games,” the elder Miss Grandison said to the girls.
“Not games, Aunt,” replied her niece. “An investigation.”
The lady snorted. “Investigation! Hoity-toity.”
The earl and the young duke had come over to join them. “What’s this?” asked Lord Macklin.
He looked ready to spring to someone’s defense. Teresa hoped he did not imagine it was hers.
“There will be noinvestigationof opera dancers,” replied the elder Miss Grandison with obvious distaste. “I’m sure they make a habit ofdisappearing. And please let that be the last mention of such…persons.”
Teresa couldn’t bear the contempt the older woman infused into the last word. A response burst out before she could stop it. “They are girls no older than these—many even younger—oppressed and exploited simply because of their place in society.”
All eyes focused on her. Why hadn’t she controlled her reaction? This was hardly the first time she’d heard that sort of remark. Tom gave her a sympathetic nod.
