“No.” Ashleigh sounded a trifle bored. “They belong to a friend.”
Mr. Bridge permitted himself a slight smile. “The reason I ask is that the clasp is somewhat old-fashioned, and if your friend intends to wear them it would be wise to have them restrung. The thread is quite worn in places.”
Ashleigh waited.
Mr. Bridge sighed. “As to the value, that naturally depends on a variety of circumstances. If the necklace were brought to me, I would offer perhaps £800.”
Ashleigh raised his brows. “And if you were offering it for sale?”
The jeweler smiled. “I would ask for £1200. I might not get it, of course.” That won him a smile in return from the duke, so he asked, “Is there anything else I might do for Your Grace?”
The duke had stood and was returning the pearls to their velvet bag. He paused and tilted his head. “Yes, I believe there is something. You might keep an eye out for emeralds. I might be in the market for emeralds. They need not be terribly large, but they must be perfect.”
*
Once they were seated in the carriage for their return to Ashleigh House, Bancroft turned to Ashleigh with a scowl. “Would you care to explain what that was all about? Miss Darling most definitely asked me to sell it for her, not have it valued.”
Ashleigh had been lost in thought. He stared at Bancroft for a moment before he realized what his cousin was saying. “Oh, that. Just withdraw £1200 from the estate account and give it to her.”
“But why not simply sell the pearls for her?”
“I do not know how she feels about them, if she really wants to sell or simply thinks she needs the money for her idiotic bookshop scheme. I will keep them for her in case she decides she would like them back.”
“Idiotic? Why idiotic? Twelve hundred pounds is more than enough to buy the bookshop and still have enough over to keep her until she is established.”
“It is not just idiotic. It is insane.” He ground the words out.
“Peter, what are you about? And what was that about emeralds? What is going on?”
Bancroft looked concerned, but Ashleigh just gave a sharp shake of his head and turned to look out the window.
Whoever gave her those pearls chose badly in more ways than one. They did not suit her. Pearls were wrong for her, especially those pearls. They were valuable, but they were too large for her. She was too delicate, too fragile. They would hang on her like a chain. If she were his, he would drape her in emeralds. He could envision her with emeralds winking in her hair, emeralds hanging from her delicate neck, emeralds, and nothing else.
What was he thinking? He must be out of his mind. She was not his. She could not be his. He should never have mentioned emeralds to Bridge.
*
Stephen had given her the money. He reported that she and Franny had been amazed. It was far more than they could have expected—enough to keep her for years. There was no need for her to become a shopkeeper, yet according to Stephen, that is all they were talking about. Why? Ashleigh could not understand it. She had no need to rush into it as if she had no choice. Did she not realize that there were other possibilities for her? Why was she still so determined on a ruinous course?
He found his sister in her sitting room. She was sitting at her writing table with swatches of fabric spread before her, but she was gazing out the window.
“Alice, I need to talk to you,” he said peremptorily. “I need your help.”
She turned slowly from the window and gazed at him unseeing, until his words seemed to reach her. Then she gave her head a shake and smiled at him. “Of course. What is the problem?”
He flung himself down into a chair and promptly bounced up again to begin pacing about the room. It was not an easy room in which to pace, given the number of small tables bearing delicate china figurines. He caught a shepherdess just before she smashed following an encounter with his leg. He glared at the statuette before replacing it carefully and striding away to stand by the window. “What on earth do you want with all these silly folderols?”
His sister gave an amused shrug. “I don’t really know. They are the expected decoration in a lady’s boudoir and give the maids something pretty to dust. Now, suppose you tell me what the problem is.”
Ashleigh transferred his glare to the carpet, as if its green swirls had given unpardonable offense. “It’s Miss Darling. She has this bee in her bonnet about becoming a shopkeeper, of all things. Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?”
Alice continued to look amused. “I do not know that I would call it ridiculous. It strikes me as quite admirable. She has no fortune of her own and does not wish to be dependent on her aunt’s charity.”
“What nonsense.” Ashleigh had begun pacing again. “She is a lady, not some shopkeeper. She needs a husband to take care of her. The only sensible solution is for her to marry.” If she were married, no longer nearby where he might encounter her at any moment should he wander in that direction, perhaps then she would no longer fill his thoughts, haunt his dreams.
Alice was looking at him consideringly. “Did you have a groom in mind?”
He waved the question away. “No one in Lewes would be suitable. I thought we might take her to London. If you present her, take her about, she will have offers aplenty.”
“She has no dowry. She will have offers from widowers looking for a mother for their children or old men looking for a nurse for themselves. I doubt she would consider either preferable to supporting herself in a shop.”
He waved that away, too. “I can provide her with a dowry.”
Her eyes widened at that. “I think it most unlikely that she would agree to such an arrangement.”
“I would not tell her, of course.”
Alice sat very still, looking at her brother. “I am not at all certain that you know what you are about. However, I will tell you that Miranda and I have talked of this very thing. It could not be now, of course. It is nearing the end of the Season. We thought we might invite her to come to London next spring.”
Ashleigh frowned. “Why wait so long? There are always people in London—balls, routs, what have you.”
“But with a smaller selection of possible bridegrooms when one attends out of Season. What is the great hurry?”
“I just do not want her to do anything irrevocable.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If she ever sets herself up as a bookseller, she will never be able to marry a gentleman, to have the kind of life she deserves.”
His sister smiled faintly. “Do you truly believe that my marriage was more desirable than the Darlings’? Happier? Preferable in any way?”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No, and I will always regret that I was too young to do anything about it. But this is different. I am not my father, to pass my daughter along to one of my cronies because he took a fancy to her. We need to find her a husband who will take good care of her. You probably know more people in the ton than I. Can you think of any likely candidates?” Alice was looking too amused. He snapped, “This is not a joke.”
“Very well, let me think.” She still looked amused but she had tilted her head consideringly and tapped a finger on her cheek. “There is Carraby’s son. He has always struck me as a pleasant young man.”
“Young George? Don’t be ridiculous. The fellow’s a fool.”
“No fools then. Josiah Western? He is making quite a name for himself with his botanical studies.”
Ashleigh snorted. “Botanical studies. The man’s a dried up old twig himself.”
“What of Charles Conigsby? He’s certainly not dried up. Quite handsome in fact.”
“Are you mad?” Ashleigh looked at her in shock. “He knows every brothel in London and they all know him.”
Alice began to laugh. “Oh Peter, if you could only see yourself.”
“Very well,” he said stiffly, “if you do not wish to assist me…”
“Do stop being silly.” She sighed. “I will talk to Miss
Darling and her aunt and suggest a Season or two in London. Perhaps Miranda will wish to talk to her as well. They have become good friends, you know.”
“Thank you.” He relaxed slightly.
But the next day, Lady Talmadge returned from a visit to Hawthorne Cottage with a puzzled look on her face. She had just handed her bonnet to a footman and was removing her gloves when her brother came into the hall. “Well?” he demanded.
She shook her head slightly, handed her gloves to the footman, and directed him to take her things to her room. Then she took her brother’s arm and led him back into the library.
The moment the door was closed, he asked, “What did she say?”
“She said no. Oh, she thanked me very politely and expressed her appreciation conscientiously, but the answer was most definitely and most firmly no.”
He frowned in disbelief and began pacing once more. “That is ridiculous. You can’t have put it to her properly.” Lady Talmadge gave an exasperated sigh, but her brother waved it away. “She must have thought you were offering charity.” He stopped and looked at his sister. “Do you think she was simply nervous about appearing in society? Could that be it?”
“Peter, we are talking about Kate Darling. Was she intimidated by the Wiltons? By Selina Webster? This is a young woman who knows her own value.”
“Then what is it?” He was pacing again, and running his hand through his hair. “She must be convinced. You will have to speak to her again.”
“I am not at all certain that would be wise.” Lady Talmadge spoke slowly. “I think the problem has something to do with London itself. When I suggested going there, her first reaction seemed to be panic. She looked truly terrified. And Franny Darling looked frightened, too. They both pulled themselves together almost at once, but even when they were both smiling and thanking me, there was real fear lurking in their eyes.”
“Did you not ask her what the problem is?”
“If she does not wish to tell me, I have no right to pry. And neither do you.” She held up a hand when he was about to speak. “No, Peter, you cannot decide that you know what is best for her and simply order her to obey.”
He gave a short, angry laugh. “Are you planning to reproach me for arrogance?”
She looked at him sharply. “I was going to suggest that you stop to consider why it is that you are so determined to see her wed.”
*
London
Hall was once more ushered into Farnsworth’s library. This time, the earl was already on his feet, almost bouncing with eagerness, barking out “Well?” before Hall was even fully in the room.
Once the door was closed, Hall, who had a marked distrust of eavesdropping servants, moved into the center of the room before he spoke. “There is, I think, no doubt that the young lady is Miss Russell. The description fits, and the timing does as well. She arrived in Sussex only a few days after she disappeared.”
“Of course she is Katherine. You have identified the house? Noted her customary comings and goings?” The earl was having difficulty restraining his impatience.
Hall sighed. “There may be some difficulties. She has acquired some powerful friends.”
“In Lewes?” The earl gave a contemptuous laugh.
“In, or rather near, Lewes. Her aunt is a friend of the Duke of Ashleigh. He and his sister, Lady Talmadge, have befriended the girl. As have the Earl and Countess of Merton.”
Farnsworth frowned briefly, but promptly regained his certainty. “They will be no problem. I have never met them, but I have heard them spoken of. Ashleigh is a sanctimonious prig, fanatically averse to scandal, and I understand Merton is besotted with his wife. They will not disturb themselves over the disappearance of a nobody like Katherine Russell.”
“Do not underestimate them. The Duke of Ashleigh is well-respected, and the regent himself attended Merton’s wedding.”
The earl sneered derisively. “What will they do, call out the watch?”
“Anything they do could prove disastrous. Anything.” Hall spoke emphatically. “If you intend to go through with this, you will need to devise a plan to take the girl without arousing suspicion, especially suspicion directed at you.”
Farnsworth slammed his hand down on the desk. “Enough! The room that is being prepared for her is almost ready. As soon as all is ready, you will drive me to Lewes and we will take her. She will regret having defied me. Yes, she will regret it.”
The earl was smiling again as he waved Hall from the room. It was a smile that did more than merely worry Hall. He had spent months tracking down this girl and had received little of the promised payment. Now, he found himself wondering if he dared continue with this assignment at all.
There had been commissions from Farnsworth in the past, but the earl had always approached each situation with cold calculation. Hall’s own tasks had been to investigate people’s pasts, locate people who thought a change of address made them invisible, point out the danger of failing to pay one’s gambling debts—things of that sort. If he sometimes skirted the law, he did not smash it.
This arrogant dismissal of danger was a change, and not a change for the better.
Hall had not survived this long by ignoring danger.
He did not like this. No, he did not like it at all.
Chapter Fourteen
It had been cloudy all day and now dark clouds were rolling in. The rain would begin soon. He really should turn and head for home. There was no point in going to the top of the hill. He knew that. She would not be coming. She had made her choice, and she would not be walking at Kelswick any longer. But still, he had to look.
Hector knew where to stop when they reached the crest. They had been stopping there for days now. He looked down at the path that led from Hawthorne Cottage, the empty path leading to the woods. The woods were empty too—no.
Not empty.
He caught a glimpse of, of something. Movement. It was doubtless just some creature seeking shelter before the rain, a rabbit perhaps.
But it was near the summer house.
He turned Hector down the hill and headed for the path.
It was probably nothing but a rabbit or a badger, but it might not be.
It might be… he refused to even think her name. But it might be.
At his urging, Hector quickened his pace.
The door of the summer house was open, and he could hear—no, not hear, feel—someone inside. He looped Hector’s reins around a branch and went in.
She was standing by one of the windows, her hand on the shutter, looking out, utterly still. Her dress looked familiar. He must have seen it before. It had yellow stripes, perhaps an effort to bring some sunshine into a gloomy day. Her bonnet hid her face though, and a shawl hung from her arms. His heart was hammering in his chest—could she hear it?
The change in the light when he stepped into the doorway startled her. She spun about and when she saw who it was, she knew she should not have come. Especially since her heart gave a little leap of joy. No, she should not have come.
“You came,” he said. He was not quite smiling, but there was a lightness in his expression that had not been there when they last parted.
She looked away, fearing that her face would betray the happiness she felt at the sight of him. It had been foolish to come here, trying to relive that kiss they had shared. Madness. The kiss had been madness. He had to know that as well as she did. Her worst madness, though, was this longing to preserve the memory.
She took a deep breath to bring her emotions under control. “Pardon me, Your Grace. I should not have intruded here.”
“Don’t be foolish. There is no intrusion. You know that you are more than welcome here, at any time.” He reached out toward her.
Avoiding his hand, she shook her head. “No, Your Grace. I should not be here. It was foolish of me to come. We both know that.” Ducking her head, hiding behind her bonnet, she tried to slip past him.
“Kate!” He caught her arm.
<
br /> She stopped but did not turn to him. “Please, Your Grace.”
He pulled her closer, and reached out to turn her face to him. He cupped her cheek gently and brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth. “Don’t leave, Kate. Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “I can’t bear to lose you.”
“Please, don’t make it more difficult.” She tried to turn away.
“Stay with me.”
Why was he making this so difficult? It was so painful, but she had to speak. “That is impossible. You know that.”
“Do I?”
His stupidity made her want to weep. “If you don’t know it, you should. You don’t understand. You don’t know about my family.”
“It doesn’t matter, Kate. None of that matters.”
“Of course, it matters!” The words burst out of her. “It will always matter. You don’t know what happened.”
“Yes I do.” He pulled her into his arms, knocking her bonnet aside, and pressed kisses into her hair. “I do know. I know,” he murmured softly.
“You know?” She tried to pull away, panicked. “How could you know?”
“There’s no need for you to worry about that.” He held her tighter. “I know all that I need to know. I know I love you. I want you with me always. You and I, we are all that matters. You and I, Kate. I will take care of you. We will be together always.”
She looked at him fully then, but she was still shaking her head. “You can’t mean that. The past…”
He covered her mouth with his, and all her protests melted in the sweetness of that kiss. When he finally lifted his head, she was clinging to him. Her longing for him had turned her limbs to jelly. “What’s past is past,” he said. “Only the future matters, and the future is ours. I love you, Kate.”
For so long, she had dreamed of hearing those words. Was this only another dream? Did she dare to believe this was real? She reached up to run her fingers lightly along his cheek. “Are you certain? Truly certain?”
A Debt of Dishonor Page 16