The Girl with the Pearl Pin

by Lynne Connolly

She had ended by screaming at him, throwing a dozen ridiculous threats at him. “She claimed the necklace was real, but then confessed it was not, although Latimer tried to tell her that it was. Naturally she had it assessed. Giving even a copy of a famous piece like the Latimer necklace to a mistress was in appallingly poor taste. One would imagine her ladyship was considerably disturbed by the news.” To say the least.

  If she had proof that Lord Latimer had not only been consorting with one of the most notorious women in London but had presented her with a copy of the famed Latimer necklace, her ladyship would no doubt fall down in a dead faint in the center of the largest public gathering she could find.

  Leo looked forward to seeing it, or at the least, reading about it.

  “One would. One will be. I’m sure society will wallow in the news,” Mars drawled. The tidings would be all around the city by this evening. It added another twist to the tale.

  La Coccinelle was not stupid, and she could spot a paste necklace in a second. But she would use it to get her revenge on Leo, flaunting the piece his betrothed was accused of stealing.

  He raised his voice slightly to make eavesdropping easier. “Lady Latimer has visited Bow Street, too. She very loudly accused my betrothed of theft in the presence of witnesses, something I do not take kindly. I trust nobody will repeat that particular calumny in my hearing.”

  If he heard that again, he would personally go to the Latimer residence with his father’s cavalry saber. But he didn’t say it aloud. There was little need. The men here knew him, and he had hardened his voice on the last notes. If this affair caused a rift between his family and the Latimers, he would gladly take the challenge. And win.

  One thing was for certain: the affair of the Latimer diamonds would not go away any time soon. He would have to break the news of the scandal to his grandmother, but knowing the efficiency of her spies, she had probably heard already. Already doubtful about his engagement, she might not take kindly to it, so Leo kept his peace. Holding fire, in other words.

  The dowager preferred to take the season at her own pace, and this early would not attend too many gatherings, but she had invited Phoebe and Miss Childers to dinner. Her health had not been wonderful recently, her arthritis troubling her more than she cared to admit. Her hands were cruelly twisted with it, and her maid had informed Leo that the pain frequently kept the dowager awake at night. Not only did he owe her everything, he adored her, and he would protect her at the cost of his life. But now another woman was disturbing his peace. If the two women clashed, then he would take his grandmother’s part, no question, but he would miss Phoebe.

  Every day he met Phoebe was another when he was becoming increasingly convinced that she would make him an excellent wife. Her letters showed wit and intelligence, as well as a sense of humor he deeply appreciated. What had started as a gallant move was fast becoming reality. Now all he had to do was persuade Phoebe. If he decided to go ahead with the betrothal. Although a man could not withdraw, there were ways, mostly involving procrastination, to end a union.

  What more proof did he have of his interest than the shocking way he behaved around her? He craved her kisses, and for a grown man accustomed to more involving liaisons, that was saying something. That, of course, must stop. He had no intention of setting society on its ear as his parents had consistently done. If he took her into many more private rooms in public places, the gossip would damage both of them.

  Mars refilled his glass and offered Leo another, which he accepted. He had a feeling he would need it. “Do you go to the Berminton rout this evening?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Good. Her ladyship has several eligible daughters. Three I think, and I do not wish to face them alone.”

  “Perhaps.” But Mars was not in particular want. Col might be glad of such a healthy infusion into his recently depleted funds, due to long-lived and profligate parents. If Leo’s mother and father had not died when they had, he might have found himself in the same case. But they had perished, leaving Leo and his grandmother to make what they could of what was left. Since Leo had been a boy at the time, the burden had fallen on his grandmother for many years. He owed her for that.

  But to give up a woman he wanted for a duty marriage to some society miss? Would he go that far?

  * * * *

  That evening found Leo dining with his grandmother and a selection of superior guests.

  Phoebe attended in company with Miss Childers, both resplendent in blue silk, but Phoebe wore a darker shade than her pale and fair counterpart. They looked to advantage together, Phoebe with her gleaming dark hair and eyes, next to the ethereal Angela Childers. Leo knew which of the pair he preferred.

  Although aware the duchess was watching her keenly, Phoebe behaved with a great deal of grace, with only one unfortunate incident marring the evening, when she got stuck on a word.

  An appalled silence fell over the table, before the murmur of quiet conversation started up again when Phoebe abruptly stopped her attempt. Flushing, she stared at the food on her plate. Under the gimlet gaze of his grandmother, Leo could not cover her hand with his. Her Grace would consider such behavior gauche and be more likely to blame Phoebe than himself. So he asked her if she needed more food, reaching for the creamed carrots, which he knew she liked.

  She shook her head. “I am c-content,” she mumbled, her voice so low he could barely hear her.

  The impulse to spirit her off grew stronger, as did the desire to protect her. But knowing Phoebe as he did now, he was aware that she would not thank him for it. He should give her a little time.

  Phoebe lifted her chin when the duchess addressed her, and met her hostess’s eyes. “No, Your Grace, we have no need of three course, twelve remove dinners in the country, but my mother would dearly love to do so.”

  Not a quaver or a hesitation. Leo felt inordinately proud of her. She had rehearsed that answer in her mind, gone over it and ensured she could get it out.

  That would appeal to his grandmother, who had bravely faced a lifetime of pain and coped. That was the word the best women gave to dealing with the deepest problems. They coped.

  “Are we to have the felicity of meeting your parents soon?” the duchess asked sweetly.

  “They will b-be arriving in London sh-shortly,” Phoebe answered. Only Leo saw her breast move in a regular pattern as her heart beat hard enough to cause the slight quiver. “M-My sister, Lucinda, is to have her c-come-out. I have written to m-my mother.” She closed her mouth with a snap but kept her smile.

  Leo found the hesitation adorable, although he felt for Phoebe. His brief struggle with the same affliction had given him an understanding he might not otherwise have. But after his parents died and his grandmother informed him that he was the new duke, in default of anyone else, he had developed the halting way of speaking. Sheer determination had worked for him, but he was fully aware it did not work for everybody. He doubted Phoebe had any lack of determination.

  “I see. They do not wish to celebrate your betrothal?”

  “Of c-course they do. But L-Lucinda’s visit has b-been planned for a time.”

  “Were you brought to London for your come-out?” The duchess’s eyes were shrewd. Already she had worked out something Leo had taken longer to understand.

  “N-No. M-My mother s-says I am the b-brains and L-Lucinda is the b-beauty. Men do not b-beat a p-path to the d-door of clever women.”

  Leo could hold back no longer. “I wonder who told you that? Believe me, it is a fallacy, which Miss Childers for one can attest is false.”

  His grandmother nodded. “Women who are expected to occupy a great position need women of intelligence to match them. Or to run the estate in their absence. Without that, great estates can fall, to the detriment of us all.”

  She was talking about his parents. Neither had been of more than average understanding, and neither had
taken any interest in the dukedom except to spend what they could and gamble the rest away.

  “I d-daresay. But I am not in a p-position…” Phoebe tailed off and shot an anxious glance at him.

  He sensed the anger in her, or was it frustration? Whatever, it had worked to clear the stammer and leave her with that sweet hesitation.

  Miss Childers added her mite. “Naturally Sir Frederick and his family will stay at Grosvenor Square. I wrote to inform them today. I rattle around that house like a dried pea if I have no guests.” Placing her knife and fork neatly on her plate, she reached for her wineglass.

  “Do you not have different ways in the City?” the duchess asked.

  “I wouldn’t know.” Miss Childers took a delicate sip. “I do not live there. The house my father occupied has been given over to offices. The bank is expanding its interests, and we need the space. I prefer to live in Mayfair.”

  “Your husband will have a great deal to take on.” The duchess shot Leo a pointed glance before returning her attention to Miss Childers. “Only a few men are capable of controlling a large bank, as well as running an estate and other investments.”

  “I do not intend to have a husband.” Miss Childers, seemingly calm, repeated her assertion. “I have not met a man I can trust to care for my legacy. In any case, I have no desire to give up my interests.”

  “But one day you must,” the dowager said, as calmly as Miss Childers.

  The two women would not back down. Lazily Leo watched them. They were both far too controlled to make a scene. But while he admired Miss Childers’s mettle, he did not have the same measure of interest in her as he had in her companion. Phoebe aroused him, tempted him beyond bearing sometimes. Around her he behaved like a reckless, lovesick swain. If he was known for anything, it was proper behavior and stiffness of manner, but Phoebe wouldn’t believe that if he told her.

  He couldn’t work out why he was behaving in such a manner.

  After a spirited but icily polite altercation, the duchess nodded and turned her attention back to Phoebe. “If this betrothal is to take, we must ensure you are seen in the right places, and in my company. I will take you to my mantua-maker’s tomorrow; then we will attend Lady Porter’s musicale on Thursday. Leomore will accompany us, naturally. When your parents arrive in town, we may entertain them.”

  He did not have the opportunity to speak to Phoebe privately until later in the evening, when he contrived to get her alone in the carriage on the way home from the ball. Miss Childers had given him a glare when he’d asked her permission, but reluctantly gave it, on condition they took the ten-minute journey directly. “I am an uncomfortable duenna, but if you create many opportunities like this, your marriage will have to happen, and fast.”

  Although a betrothed couple had some leeway, they were taking too much. Disturbingly, Leo didn’t care. Once in the carriage, he dragged down the blinds and pulled her into his arms.

  “You can’t do that!” Phoebe gasped, but she could say nothing more because his mouth was on hers.

  Only when he’d taken what he’d been longing for all evening and received her eager response did he draw back. “I can’t?” Her responding delightful flush and smile almost enticed him to go in for more, but they did not have much time. “I ordered the crest on the doors covered, in case you had not noticed, and I sent the liveried footmen away. We have a driver and one attendant.”

  “Oh. But Grosvenor Square?”

  “Miss Childers will be waiting. My sweet, I needed to speak to you.” If he did not, he might lose his nerve. He, who had nerves of steel was concerned about her response. Lord, he was a prime catch, or so he’d been told repeatedly. Losing his address, he spoke hastily. “I would like you to consider making our false betrothal into something more long-lasting.”

  Her eyes widening, she swallowed. “You mean until the end of the year?”

  “No. Longer.”

  But he couldn’t say more.

  “But we are only engaged until m-my name is c-cleared. Until we find the n-necklace.”

  “The search may take more time.” Truly, she was a cozy armful. “I suspect La Coccinelle’s necklace is the copy, not the real one. She refused to let me see it when I asked her.”

  Pursing her lips, she made a rude noise, but such a sweet, small version of it that he was forced to kiss her again.

  When they parted, she spoke, but now her hand was spread over his heart and her hair distinctly tousled. “D-Did Lord Latimer t-take up with La Coccinelle to spite you?”

  He frowned. “Why on earth would he do that?”

  “You are admired and imitated. Did you know that g-gentlemen have taken a quite f-foolish interest in me? And it is only b-because you have done so.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Then they must desist. You are mine.”

  “For now.”

  “Perhaps not. Think about it, Phoebe. We will talk more about this.”

  The carriage came to a halt, but her stunned gaze remained on his until the attendant opened the door and let down the stairs.

  Chapter 10

  He had not said that. Surely she had misheard. Leo had not explained his final words but hurried her out of the carriage to where Angela waited.

  Phoebe lay in bed half the night staring at the canopy, wondering what on earth he meant. Not what her vivid imagination had told her, surely. But what else? Her mind completely engrossed by the possibilities, she forgot the information he had given her until the next day, when the maid drew the curtains with a rattle and a cheerful, “Good morning, ma’am! Your mother is below.”

  So soon?

  Once she left her bedroom, Phoebe wouldn’t have needed to be told her family had arrived. With a sinking sense of familiarity, she followed the cacophony down to the breakfast parlor. She loved her family, but their arrival must herald the end of her dalliance with her ducal suitor. Once he met them, he would understand why a connection between the two had to end.

  Her quiet, civilized breakfasts with Angela were over. The servants had put extra leaves into the circular table, making it a long oval, and around it sat a group of people she was only too familiar with.

  Her father got to his feet, and after a glare from him, so did her two brothers.

  Phoebe didn’t hesitate. She flung herself into his arms, and as they closed around her, she felt home.

  “I declare!” her mother said, in the voice that could be heard over a hunting field of thirty riders and a set of hounds. “You do look fine, my dear!”

  Phoebe extricated herself and embraced her mother, careful to do it when the lady was drawing a breath, because she could deafen a person close up. “I am delighted to see you all.” Even Lucinda, who was pouting. But Lucinda was convinced her best expression was a pout, so no conclusion could be drawn from that.

  Phoebe took her seat next to an amused but rather stunned Angela. Although Angela had met her family before, she had not done so for a few years. Having her parents, her two brothers, and her younger sister around the same table could take some getting used to.

  Her mother wore her usual dazzling palette, with a gown of emerald green and a butter-yellow petticoat. Very fine, and not one Phoebe had seen before. “Did you travel in that?” she asked.

  “No, silly puss! We stopped overnight at the inn by St. Paul’s and sent word we were here first thing.”

  Considering Phoebe hadn’t got into the house until the early hours of the morning, she might have crossed her mother’s messenger on the doorstep. Morning to her mother meant up with the birds. In London they went to bed with them singing outside the window.

  “I am delighted to welcome you all,” Angela said. “You must of course stay with us.”

  “Except for Freddie and Thomas.” Lady North frowned at her sons. “They will remain at the inn. It’s not proper for two unmarried men to stay und
er the same roof as a single young lady. And about this young man?” Phoebe’s mother was never afraid to come to the point. “When are we meeting him?”

  “I-I do not know. He is here f-frequently. He is s-sensible that he sh-should have spoken to you first.”

  Sir Frederick humphed. “We’ll see about that. I assume he’ll want to speak to me now.”

  Phoebe could not hide the truth from her family. “It happened s-so f-fast. Y-You know I wrote to you last week. It was when Lady Latimer’s j-jewels were stolen at a b-ball, and she accused me of taking them.”

  “Good Lord! I know you didn’t do that. If you wanted a new necklace, we would have bought you one.” That was one reason Phoebe loved her mother. She believed her children without question. Even if her mother’s attention was taken by her sister, the pretty one. Lucinda was her surprise baby her darling, and she had turned out to be a beautiful child, so naturally the baby had garnered all the attention.

  “Not this necklace,” Angela said firmly. She picked up her butter knife and grabbed the last fresh bread roll. Obviously, despite being an only child, she understood the necessity to take one’s opportunities when they occurred. “This is an heirloom necklace, with a great diamond at its center. The jewel was supposed to have belonged to Queen Elizabeth.”

  “I daresay they can say that about any jewel. Who knows where it’s been? But I take your point.” Lady North picked up the teapot and helped herself to another cup. She could drink tea until it took root inside her. Already the footmen were coming in with more supplies of tea, bread, and everything else. They deposited their burdens and, at a glance from Angela, left the room, closing the door behind them.

  While Phoebe went to the sideboard and helped herself to what she wanted, beating her brothers by a matter of seconds, Lady North listened to Angela’s succinct but discreet account of the events that fateful night.

  “So naturally the duke had to say he was betrothed to Phoebe,” she concluded. “Otherwise Phoebe would have been in a great deal of trouble.”