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every bit as impossible a she declared.
    Of course, I tended to specialize in the impossible. Given the company in which I stood, I couldn’t be the only one to do so.
    Lady Rutledge regarded my companion with the same sharpness she regarded me, and this I found to be telling, as well. The lady was well-reasoned. Any I might call friend or ally, she had no doubt discerned, were certainly bound to be more than appearances might claim. “Not impossible,” she corrected. “Difficult, but as you will note, hardly unfeasible.”
    ’Twasthe details I wanted. “What have you for me, my lady?”
    “Certainly,” Lady Rutledge said, and snapped her fingers at the lanky Garrard’s representative.
    The papers he’d clung to trembled as he passed them to me. Damp smears remained on the margins. I studied its contents as Lady Rutledge continued her explanations.
    “The Jewel House remains open for visits. It closes for the eveningat a reasonable hour,” she said. “Every evening, there are steps taken to ensure all is well. At last call, all items were accounted for, and the whole properly locked.”
    “The Comptroller of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office did not sign anything out,” Mr. Jodfrey volunteered, his voice reedy and strained near to cracking. He shifted foot to foot as though prodded by the angry spirits of monarchs past—them what felt a hot iron might be apt punishment for a careless loss of a treasure. “Only the royal pall is lacking, as it is sent for cleaning upon regular schedule.”
    I looked up from my reading, my eyes wide. As my confusion receded, anticipation slipped into its place—and no small amount of interest. “One of Her Majesty’s priceless treasures has gone missing.”
    Lady Rutledge nodded most solemnly. “And you, my dear Lady Compton, will be the collector that locates it again.”

Chapter Four
    In that moment, I was made aware of two very distinct matters.
    One, that the nature of Her Majesty’s agencies certainly tended towards insidious.
    Through some means or another, my identity as a collector had spread—at least to certain ears primed to hear that which should not be known.
    This explained a great deal about the events of the past few hours.
    And two, though certainly not the least of my concerns, whosoever had braved the vast and efficient protection afforded the Jewel House in Wakefield Tower had done so with exceptional efficiency—which spoke volumes as to his or her skill.
    This intimated a foe of some worthiness.
    I tucked the first of the papers beneath the rest, reading quickly over such matters as routine security walks and a brief—if incomplete, for secrecy’s sake—outline of the mechanisms that protected the Crown’s regalia.
    Very deliberately, I refrained from asking the lady what she knew of my habits and past.
    My curiosity burned under the strain of so many questions.
    Lady Rutledge waved Mr. Jodfrey away with an imperious hand. When he had fled to a satisfactory distance, the lady’s voice lowered—even as it retained an element of smugness. “I imagine you to be surprised.”
    “Some. Yet when it comes to you, Lady Rutledge,” I said to the papers, “I have learned surprise is not my ally.”
    “A fair assumption.” She paused. “Have you any?”
    “Questions?”
    “Allies,” she corrected gamely. “Aside from your girl there.”
    The allies I counted were as dear as they were incontrovertible, but I thought it best not to give the sharp Lady Rutledge any information she had not gleaned herself. What the Crown might know of Ashmore or Hawke concerned me greatly. Naming them would end terribly, I just knew it.
    I thought of all those I had come to rely upon, and of course, I thought of Zylphia, who remained near enough at hand to watch over me.
    In the end, I said nothing.
    The lady’s smile remained unflappably wide. “Good. Then this shall make matters somewhat more tolerable. How is your memory, Miss S— Ah.” She caught herself,