Behold the Thief (Rich Man Poor Man Book 4)

by Laura Landon

  She swatted him, relishing his roguish wink, and wondering why she hadn’t revealed everything. Somehow, though, three alter egos seemed plenty for a fellow to accept. And if she’d glossed over the part about sending bullying husbands to Australia, he hadn’t seemed to notice.

  “I’m sure. No other characters. I promise.”

  “Then may I count on your help at tonight’s auction? It won’t be any fun without you.”

  She was captivated by the ease with which he’d accepted her confession and moved on.

  “And you want me there.”

  He stepped closer. “Only if you want to be there.”

  He took another step. “Don’t leave me on my own, Lily.”

  She wanted to shout Never! I won’t leave you on your own. Ever!

  But as she considered how best to answer him, the moment passed.

  “It will be the best auction yet, Lily. But it doesn’t mean anything to me if I don’t have you at my side to share it with.”

  His words unwrapped the bonds that had been pinching her heart. She felt the same. Nothing she did meant anything to her if she didn’t have Jack to share it with.

  A troubling image of the silence in the lane at Hyde Park did its ruthless job of dampening her turn of heart. She’d had to face down his parents alone that awful morning, even though Jack was at her side. She couldn’t do it again.

  Lily stepped unsteadily away.

  “Jack, I…that is, your parents won’t—”

  He strode to her and took both her hands in his.

  “It was lousy of me, Lily. I’ll never forgive myself for nailing my tongue to the floor and letting my parents treat you like they did. It will never happen again. I promise. And…and I told them that. This very morning.”

  He lifted her chin with a finger. “So please. Say you’ll work with me again. Hm?”

  He’d defended her? Lily watched the truth of what he was saying spill from his gentle, warm eyes. His thumbs traced patterns on the backs of her hands, sending waves of affirmation through her. He meant it.

  How could she not help him when he asked so sweetly?

  Slowly she raised her hands to cup the sides of his face. “All right, Jack,” she whispered. Her kiss to his cheek sealed her promise. “All right.”

  Jack dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her close. “That’s my girl.” Their foreheads touched, the perfect punctuation to their reconciliation.

  As his face broke into a smile, he angled a bit, ready to kiss away her memory of the trouble through which they’d just navigated. But Lily raised a hand and pressed one finger to his lips.

  “Please don’t think that we can just pick up where we left off. That can’t happen. Never again.”

  Jack’s face turned serious. “Maybe, maybe not. Just let me explain something.”

  Lily opened her mouth to object, but her words were stayed by his earnest expression. She took a slow breath and afforded Jack her attention.

  “I have one brother. Gideon. He’s married to the love of his life. Christina. They’ve been married eight years now and have no children. She has conceived several times—three that I’m aware of—but none of the babes have survived past the first few months.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lily said and she truly meant it. For a woman to endure that great grief more than once seemed impossibly cruel.

  “Without an heir to carry on after Gideon and I are gone, the Riverdon estates and entailed properties will pass to Russell, then to his heirs.”

  “Oh,” Lily sighed. “That is a maddening thought.”

  “Yes. Which is why my father is so intent that I marry and produce an heir. Don’t you see? That’s why he is so anxious for me to give up Broadmoore’s Treasures and cease peddling trinkets, as he calls it.”

  “He expects you to marry the daughter of a titled nobleman, but as a tradesman you can’t attract one, is that it?”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  Lily nodded. That explained a lot, but it changed nothing. Jack was the son of a marquess, one step down from a duke. It was his duty to produce a Riverdon heir so that everything his father had built was not squandered by his cousins.

  Lily’s heart lay heavy in her breast. There was no hope for her and Jack. There was no future for the two of them. She mustn’t stand in the way of his duty to his family.

  Lily stepped away. “All right, then. I will see you tomorrow afternoon to examine the auction pieces.”

  Jack’s face lit as he stepped forward, intending to kiss her, but from some hidden corner of her heart she found the willpower to resist. With a smile, she raised her hand and turned slightly to the side.

  His smile faltered only momentarily before he slowly exhaled and nodded his head in acquiescence.

  “Thank you, Lily,” he said, then walked to the door, straightening his shoulders to disguise the disappointment she knew he felt.

  Lily watched him leave, knowing deep within her bones that she hadn’t finalized things between herself and Jack. She’d only postponed the inevitable.

  BEHOLD THE THIEF by Laura Landon

  Chapter Twelve

  Jack turned his attention to the door more times than he could count for any sign that Lily was here. She’d said she’d be here after noon and it was nearly one o’clock. It was early afternoon yet, but he couldn’t wait to see her. Every chance to be near her gave him hope.

  The bell above the door chimed and Jack’s heart jumped in anticipation. But it wasn’t Lily. Although the woman’s hair was the same honey-gold as Lily’s and her facial features were as regally warm, the person entering his shop was several years older. Jack recognized her as the dowager Countess of Eversley.

  Jack nodded to one of his clerks to assist the dowager countess, but first he greeted her personally.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Eversley. Welcome to Broadmoore’s.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Broadmoore.”

  She looked cautiously about, a telltale sign that she was not here this afternoon as a shopper. Jack drew her to the nearest anteroom, seeking privacy before she became unduly discomfited.

  Her smile relaxed. “I should like to place an item on your auction, if that is possible, as word has it that you have nearly reached your limit.”

  “I have, my lady. But for you I am certain I can add one more piece.”

  Her eyes lit, evoking a genuine and engaging expression that prompted an answering smile from Jack. Lily would like this woman. He turned to the door again to see if she had arrived yet. But she had not, and he was suddenly ambushed by a disappointment that weighed heavily on his chest.

  “And did you happen to bring the item with you, Lady Eversley?”

  “Oh, yes.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out a diamond and ruby brooch.

  “It’s lovely,” Jack said, admiring the jewels. “Is there any particular reason why you wish to sell such a pretty thing?”

  Lady Eversley tried to maintain her bright smile, but it was clear to Jack that sadness had overtaken it.

  “To be perfectly frank,” Lady Eversley sighed, “the brooch was a gift from a former admirer. I haven’t worn it since the late Lord Eversley and I married, and I don’t intend upon ever wearing it again. It would feel like a betrayal of my husband, and since there’s no chance I’ll ever see the former admirer again, I have no need to keep the brooch. In fact, I plan on donating the money from the sale of the brooch to my late husband’s charity.”

  “That will definitely put the money to good use. I’m sure this will bring a handsome price. Do you have a minimum bid you will accept?”

  “I do,” Lady Eversley answered, and lowered her voice discreetly to state the minimum amount she would be willing to accept.

  “I believe that is a fair price,” Jack said. “I can guarantee the brooch will bring at least that much.”

  “Wonderful,” Lady Eversley said. “Must I be present at the auction?”

  Jack shook his head. “No, that isn’t at a
ll necessary. I will subtract my seller’s fee and send the remainder of the funds to you. You should have it before noon the day after the sale.”

  “How very efficient,” she answered. “Good day, Mr. Broadmoore. And thank you.”

  “Good day to you, Lady Eversley.

  When Jack reentered the shop after escorting the countess to her carriage, he moved to a place where he could see Lily the moment she arrived.

  The door opened again and when a husband and wife entered the showroom instead of Lily, Jack feared that she’d changed her mind and wasn’t going to come.

  Nearly an hour went by, and just as he was about to give up his vigil, the door opened and Lily entered.

  Jack forced his feet to stay rooted to the floor. He knew if he’d allow himself to move, he wouldn’t simply walk to where she was, he would run. That’s how desperately he wished to be near her. How desperately he wanted to talk to her, to hold her—even if it was just her hand—and be alone with her.

  He waited for her to walk toward him which she did with deliberate calm. He had no idea how she was able to keep her emotions under such admirable control when his were all akimbo.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Broadmoore,” she uttered in an emotion-filled voice.

  The formal words conflicted madly with her tone and the warmth in her eyes, showing him the deception she thought she could portray. But he saw the truth. Her words may have said we are mere acquaintances, sir, but her eyes said come closer.

  “Good afternoon, Lily. And you promised to call me Jack.”

  She looked pleased and unsettled all at the same time. Jack cocked his head, amused by her reaction to his reminder of their former closeness.

  “Perhaps a little formality is what we need.”

  “I can’t agree. We’ve shared too much to pretend we can resort to formal conventions.”

  Her shoulders sank. “I imagine you’re right.”

  Jack watched the firm set of Lily’s features crumble as if the rigid determination she’d erected to keep him at arm’s length had failed.

  “Let me show you the items for the auction before we get too busy.” Jack extended his arm for her to take but Lily ignored his extended arm and stepped past him. She walked into the large room where the auction would take place and studied the first item.

  Jack could tell she was using every ounce of her strength and stamina to keep from allowing him to affect her—and failing. He knew how difficult this was for her. It was difficult for him, too.

  He followed her as she went from item to item and promised himself that he would give her as much room as she required. Not because she required it, but out of an innate sense that if he didn’t, she would leave and he’d never see her again.

  And that would not do at all.

  Lily started at the far end of the room and picked up each auction piece. “Has the dowager duchess brought anything in?”

  “Yes. Just as we planned, she submitted one of the pieces Russell suggested earlier would do well on auction.”

  “Tell me which piece, so I can watch for the switch,” she said.

  Lily moved down the table and examined the next piece. “You do expect him to switch her item with a forgery, surely.”

  “I do. I’m sure he’s champing at the bit for the day he can expose me.”

  “Then you might want to make sure your bidders know that this French compote is not an original. It’s a replica. A pretty good one to be sure, but it’s still a forgery, and according to its description it’s labeled as an original.”

  Jack took the compote from her hands and turned it over. “Are you sure?”

  “Look at the underglaze, particularly here on the lower fringe. Does it go to yellow? Or pink.”

  Jack studied it closely. “Yellow, it definitely seems to have a yellow tinge.” He looked at Lily, baffled that the glaze tint was to mean something to him which clearly it did not.

  “If it were an original, the underglaze would go to pink. This artist abhorred yellow. You’ll never see a touch of yellow anywhere on any of his works.”

  Jack grimaced. “How could you possibly know such a thing?”

  Lily marveled at Jack’s reaction. He wasn’t at all embarrassed by her finding. He trusted it. The pride she felt when he unquestioningly accepted her evaluation was nearly as sweet as his kisses. Nearly.

  Lily simply winked as she turned toward the next piece on the display table. She had no idea how she knew these bits and pieces. But that was just the way her mind work. If she saw it, or read it, or heard it spoken of, it stayed in her memory like a secret card filed away until she had need of it.

  “Who brought this French compote in to be sold?” Jack turned full circle holding the compote aloft for his staff to see.

  “The what?”

  “The footed centerpiece. Number 342.”

  “Baron Clyves, sir. Brought it in yesterday. Is something wrong?”

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. We’re just taking it off auction for a few days.” He wasn’t ready to expose the fraud to his staff until he could give them facts to back it up. Jack handed the compote to his clerk and turned to her. “How do you suggest we handle this?”

  Lily paused for a moment, then gave the only answer she could come up with. “Well, first let’s see if there’s any connection between Baron Clyves and your cousin. If he obtained this piece from Russell or even knows Russell, then we can suspect that Russell may have the original.” Lily looked up into Jack’s face. “If so, he’s switched a treasure worth four thousand pounds for a two shilling bit of junk.” She exhaled a long breath. “He’s getting careless, Jack. Too sure of himself.” She beamed. “Which is very, very good.”

  Jack blanched. It wasn’t just the idea that they’d been preparing to sell a forgery. What chilled his bones was the thought of how many he might already have sold. He had great skill at recognizing faked bottom markings, but flaws in the actual artistry still eluded him. He didn’t have the eye for that kind of detail. Not like Lily did.

  “I’ll get the Qings from the safe and put them in the carpetbag. It’s time to give Russell a little surprise and show him his switch didn’t work as planned.”

  “Good,” said Lily. “And Jack. I’m going with you.”

  “Always,” Jack replied.

  Lily watched him walk away from her and her heart shifted in her breast. Why was it impossible to remain angry with him? Why was it so difficult to keep him an arm’s length away from her? Why couldn’t she admit to herself that every moment she stayed with him was another moment that put her heart in jeopardy?

  Lily picked up the next item on the table and studied the hand-carved Chinese snuff box. It was an appealing little piece, though it wouldn’t bring much at auction.

  She took a step further along the table, and her eyes captured the uniqueness of the next piece before her mind even had time to evaluate what she was seeing. The air left her body in one swift and complete rush and the blood crashed against her ears until it threatened her balance.

  Lily reached out with trembling hands and lifted the brooch out of the velvet box that was a perfect match for her own treasured velvet box. She stared at the ruby and diamond brooch that someone had put up for sale, all the while hanging onto the table to keep from crashing to the floor.

  Lily couldn’t recall how many times she’d taken her own brooch out of its black velvet box and traced the large ruby and fifteen exquisite diamonds with her fingers. Her father had explained more times than she could count that he’d commissioned two matching brooches to be made in the weeks after she was born. One he had given to Lily to remind her of her mother. The other brooch he had buried with her mother when she died after giving birth to Lily.

  Gunner had told her that there were only two brooches in the whole world made of this special design. He’d made the craftsman swear there would never be another brooch like them. If someone had a brooch identical to hers, that meant the craftsman had broken his word and created
a third brooch identical to the brooches he’d made for Gunner.

  Or Gunner had lied and never buried the brooch.

  Or her mother wasn’t dead.

  If that was the case, had her mother decided she no longer wanted to keep a piece of jewelry that reminded her of the baby daughter she’d abandoned? Did it mean that her mother had been alive all these years and had never—not once—tried to find Lily?

  If so, that meant if Lily wanted to find her mother, she only had to discover who had submitted the brooch.

  But that would never happen. If her mother hadn’t been interested enough to search for Lily even once in the last twenty-five years, Lily had no interest in finding her.

  Without knowing why, Lily was angry. She was angry with Gunner for lying to her, for letting her believe the woman who’d given birth to her was dead. Well, if Lily’s mother wanted Lily to believe she was dead, then that is what Lily would believe.

  A powerful urge to slip the jewel into her reticule surprised Lily. It was overwhelming, this desire to unite the two brooches. But she was no thief. Yes, she stole men away from the families they were destined to destroy, but a common thief? Never.

  With trembling hands, Lily placed the brooch back on the table. She would leave the auction Monday night the owner of the brooch her mother thought so little of that she intended to sell it to a perfect stranger.

  Even if her mother didn’t care who owned the brooch or who wore it, Lily did. She would not allow a perfect stranger to show it off like any other bauble. She would buy the brooch her mother didn’t want and lock it away with its twin.

  Lily turned toward the door when she heard Jack approach. He’d come to get her so they could confront Russell Broadmoore. Lily was ready. She was anxious for a fight. If she couldn’t battle the woman who’d chosen to abandon her, she’d take her anger and frustration out on Jack’s cousin.

  Either way, she’d come out the winner.

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked her as they made their way to Russell Broadmoore’s residence.

  Lily lifted her gaze and focused on Jack. The way her heart shifted was becoming a signal she could no longer ignore. How those two cold, frowning people she’d met in Hyde Park could have created this handsome vision of a man was impossible to account. The sharp, determined cut of his high cheekbones and the chiseled line of his jaw gave his features a ruggedness that was matched by few men. The fit of his jacket across his broad shoulders left little doubt of his physical strength. And his boyish grin set stars skittering about in her head.