Margaret rolled her eyes. Whereas Joan thought it easier to humor Alice, her sister did not. “Stop being so ridiculous, Alice. You knew exactly how long Joan would be gone. She is your companion, not your villein. She doesn’t need your permission to enjoy a morning ride. Now, what dire emergency is it this time?”

Alice gave her sister a blistering glare, but did not argue with her. Though Alice was the elder by two years, sometimes it seemed the opposite.

“I can’t find my new bracelet. One of the maids must have stolen it.”

No wonder the girl looked close to crying. She probably thought she was about to be tossed into some prison cell or put in the stocks. Joan’s mouth pursed in anger. Her cousin’s dramatics were one thing, but her inclination to accuse the servants of everything was inexcusable and ugly. She hated when those in power took advantage of those who were not.

“I’m sure you just misplaced it,” Margaret said. “Why don’t you wear another one?”

“I can’t wear another one! Henry gave me this one.” She looked close to tears. “He loves when I wear his gifts.”

Joan began to suspect that there was more than a bracelet at work here. “The gold and ruby bracelet?”

Alice nodded.

Margaret walked over to the maid and told her what she wanted her to do. Relief swept her face, and she nodded enthusiastically before rushing out the door.

“Wait! Where is she going?” Alice demanded.

“To fetch your bracelet,” Joan said calmly. “The clasp came loose on our journey from Carlisle. You asked me to take it to the goldsmith as soon as we arrived. Bess has gone to fetch it.”

“Oh,” Alice said, oblivious to the terror she’d inflicted on the maid. “I must have forgotten.”

Margaret gave her a look and shook her head. “I guess so. Much to poor Bess’s misfortune. And look at this mess!”

Joan pushed a few gowns out of the way to clear some space and motioned for her cousin to sit. “Now,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about.”

To which Alice responded by bursting into tears—real ones, which was unusual for her cousin. Through the chokes and sobs Joan surmised that Alice suspected Sir Henry of having—or at least planning—another affair.

Alice’s eyes hardened to a glittering and very icy blue. “He was talking with that shameless flirt Lady Eleanor. I know she’s had her eye on him for some time.” Joan very much doubted that. Lady Eleanor seemed to be fiercely in love with her dashing young husband, Lord Henry de Percy.