The man at the window turned slowly, a lazy smile on his face. “I’m far too busy to act as your guardian, hoyden. I would be dragged from one end of London to the other in the process, beating off your suitors with a club. A very large club.”
India chuckled. “Turning lazy in your old age, MacKinnon?”
“Old age?” One dark brow climbed lazily. “I’ll see you pay for that particular comment, my lady.” He crossed the room with the silent grace which always seemed to leave India breathless and bent over her palm, smiling faintly. “Do I need an excuse to come see my favorite friend’s favorite sister?”
“I’m Luc’s only sister. And I suspect Luc might be your only friend.”
Connor pressed at his heart. “You wound me. A mortal wound, and no mistake.” He collapsed into the nearest chair and India sat down after him, laughing unsteadily.
“You are the most complete hand. I can’t imagine what my brother sees in you.”
But India knew, of course. Connor had saved her brother’s life in the dangerous East, where Luc had been a captive of the pirates of Algiers. Several years later, when Luc had again fallen into danger, Connor had come to his aid once more. Remembering that time of danger, India’s smile slowly faded. Her brother had trusted Connor with his life; she knew that she could trust him too.
Her hands locked at her waist. “What do you know about diamonds, Conn?”
“Diamonds?” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “In India they were known as ‘fragments of eternity.’ In the Middle Ages they were said to cure everything from warts to infertility. Formed deep in the fires of the earth, they are among the most valued items of trade known to man.” His lips curved. “In addition to that, what did you want to know?”
“Facts, please.”
“Only one fact is of any importance. They are beautiful, valuable — and very dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“They are not always what they seem. One man’s priceless treasure can be another man’s paste replica.”
“What about this?” India slowly raised her palm. Light danced over lush pink facets of crystal fire. “Is this a paste replica?”
Connor lifted the fine gem, studying it intently. He moved it from side to side, then turned it slowly.
“Well?” India asked breathlessly. “Is it real or isn’t it?”
“It is most certainly real. And it’s flawless — or as close as any diamond comes to being flawless. No clouds, no feathers, no knots.”
“What?”
“Minute cracks or inclusions, things that would reduce the stone’s worth,” Connor explained. “No abrasions or pitting, either. But it’s that amazing color that gives the stone its value. Experts call a stone like this a fancy. A slight yellow tint is considered a flaw, but a stone with this kind of remarkable pink tone is priceless for its color. I have seen only two other gems like this — the Condé, which was part of Louis XIII’s collection, and the Sancy diamond.”
“Where did you find out so much about gems?” India asked suspiciously.
“In Brazil. I worked in a mine there for a while.” His gaze settled on the window, his eyes shadowed, as if caught up in memories that were far from pleasant. “As a general rule, my dear India, when the world is in chaos and people lack faith in their governments, treasures like this diamond gain in value. That is why I make it my business to know one or two things about separating good diamonds from inferior ones.”
India had the feeling there was a great deal more Connor wasn’t telling her, but she knew her brother’s friend would reveal only what he chose. “And what about this diamond? Is it from Brazil?”
“Probably not. From India, more like. The most fabulous diamonds come from there, stones like the Koh-i-noor, the Hope Diamond, the Sancy, and of course the Condé.”
“Where would I go, Connor, if I wanted to sell a jewel like this — or to buy one?”
“Montagu Street, for one. Possibly Rundell’s, but you’ll pay through the teeth for the ‘privilege’ of shopping at their select establishment. Why?”
“Just curious.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I heard what happened last night at Vauxhall. I don’t imagine that had anything to do with this diamond.”
India’s expression was all innocence. “What gives you that idea?”
Connor MacKinnon shook his head. “You would lie to the prince himself, wouldn’t you?”
“Only if it were very necessary,” India said softly. “Rundell’s, you say. Thank you, Connor.”
Hard fingers shot around India’s wrist. “Stay out of it, India.” MacKinnon’s eyes were very cold. “People who possess gems like this don’t live long enough to enjoy them. All that fire and brilliance can kindle a terrible greed.”
“Are you telling me the stone is cursed?”
“I’m saying nothing of the sort. It is human minds that can be cursed — cursed with greed. A stone of this color and brilliance might drive a weak mind over the edge.” He studied India’s face for a moment, then sighed. “Since I can see you are determined to find out about the stone, I’ll go with you. How does two o’clock sound?”
India thought about protesting, but knew Connor could be as relentless as he was charming. “Very well, two o’clock will be perfect.”
By the time her brother’s friend left a few minutes later, his fears had been entirely allayed.
Of course India planned to be gone at least an hour before Connor returned. And just to be sure he would be completely distracted when he arrived, India sent a note around to Thornwood, asking him to call at the very same hour. By the time the two men stopped arguing and sorted out the situation, she would be safely away.
~ ~ ~
As the clock struck one a dashing youth in fashionable buckskins and a perfectly cut gray jacket strode down the steps of Devonham House. His cravat was exquisitely turned in the style known as the Mathematical, and his Hessian boots were polished to a jaunty shine. If his gait was slow and bordering on the effeminate, it was a minor flaw in an otherwise perfect appearance.
Of course the “boy” was not a boy at all, but India Delamere draped in a pair of breeches long ago pilfered from her brother’s wardrobe. Dealing with her hair had been the hardest part, but she had twisted it up and knotted it tightly, then covered the whole beneath a broad-brimmed beaver hat set rakishly askew.
Her first goal, the select establishment of Rundell’s, was located on one of the finest shopping streets in London, and India was properly impressed when she stepped inside the heavily carpeted showroom. Jewels of all sizes and colors flashed from velvet-lined cases, and women in elegant dress sat speaking softly as they considered purchases worth more than a lifetime’s wages for most of the residents of London. India’s fingers tightened on the jewel hidden in the inner pocket of her embroidered waistcoat.
“May I help you, sir?” A man in a severe black jacket surveyed India from a rosewood desk near the door.
It would not do to make this too easy, India thought. After all, she wanted them to remember the name she left with them. “Perhaps,” she said carelessly. “I was told that Rundell’s is known to have a passably good selection.”
The man’s smile hardened. “Our selection is far more than passable, I assure you.” He studied her slender frame, putting her down as a youth with more interest in fashion than common sense. “What in particular were you looking for?”
“Oh, I’m not looking to buy. I’m interested in selling. Of course only a person with a true depth of experience would appreciate the treasure that I’m offering.”
“Indeed? Then again everyone believes that he has a treasure to sell,” the man behind the desk said acidly.
India raised a quizzing glass from its cord around her neck and studied the man until his face flushed with anger. Only then did she settle herself in an elegant sprawl on the needlepoint cushion of a nearby chair. “It’s a diamond, I’m selling. A rather unusual diamond,” she continued lazily. “
What I believe you fellows call a ‘fancy.’“ She saw the man’s eyes flicker at that word, which could not fail to fuel a jeweler’s greed.
“Fancy?” he said casually.
“Colored, don’t you know? In this case a blush pink. Damned remarkable, so I’m told. Flawless, too.”
By this time the man’s pupils were noticeably dilated and his hands moved restlessly over the rosewood desk. India saw a speck of sweat break out along his brow. So Connor had been right.
“I don’t suppose you happen to have this gem with you?”
“Of course I do. Useless to visit you without it, don’t you know?” India reached into her waistcoat and removed the stone. As she set it casually on the desk before her, she heard the jeweler’s breath check in a gasp.
“May I lift it?”
“Of course.”
He tenderly carried the brilliant jewel onto a roll of black velvet. His hands were trembling, India saw. “Well?” she demanded.
“Rather unusual. A satisfying color, too.”
India laughed coolly. “That color’s damn near to making the stone priceless and you know it.”
“It is unusual, I admit.” His eyes narrowed. “Where did you acquire the stone?”
Again India raised her quizzing glass and gave him her haughtiest glare. “I do not believe that that is any business of yours, my good man.”
“Of course, of course,” the jeweler said hastily. “It is simply that in this business one cannot be too careful…”
“Are you implying this gem is stolen? Of all the damned impudence!” India shoved to her feet and grabbed up the jewel. “Jackanapes! I can see that I shall have to take my custom elsewhere.”
Instantly the jeweler was around the desk, blocking her exit. “No need to be hasty, sir. If I gave offense, it was certainly not my intention. Come now, why don’t we retire to my private office? I have a very good port that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. Perhaps you would enjoy a glass?”
India eyed the man haughtily. “Not today. Have to see about a piece of horseflesh at Tattersall’s. Might be back tomorrow or maybe next week.” She reached into her pocket and tugged out a card. “If you hear of someone interested in a diamond of this quality, it might be worth your while to contact the person on the card.”
The jeweler squinted at the fine lettering. “Lady India Delamere?”
“My cousin,” India explained casually. “Wouldn’t do for her to handle such transactions herself. Only a woman, you know.”
The jeweler nodded. “Of course not. No female is to be trusted in a matter of such importance. I shall see what can be arranged for her.”
By the time India sauntered out of Rundell’s, the jeweler was having a positive storm of nerves.
Which, of course, was exactly what India had planned.
~ ~ ~
The second shop that Conn had mentioned was very different from Rundell’s. Sandwiched between a candlemaker’s and a public house, it lay on narrow street in one of the busiest parts of Piccadilly. A trio of noisy boys were rolling hoops along the cobblestones in front of the store while a wiry fellow made lazy sweeps with a rag over windows that carried years of grime.
India felt a moment of misgiving. What she was doing was dangerous, but it was the quickest way to gain information. Since she couldn’t find the diamond’s owner, she meant to see that the owner found her. Then she could help Thorne solve his problems; whatever they were.
Squaring her shoulders, she sauntered into the shop, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness.
A balding man with a grayish face emerged from the shadows. “I was just closing for the day,” he said querulously. “However, since you’re here, you may as well state your business.”
India affected her haughtiest demeanor. “My business, my good man, happens to be your business. That is, unless that shop sign outside is wrong, and you are not a dealer in diamonds, jewelry, and precious metals.”
The man sighed. “My cup of tea and bowl of broth will have to wait, I see. Very well, what business have you brought me?”
India looked about the shop. There were only two glass-covered cases and each looked sparse in its contents. A few medium-size diamonds glinted on tattered velvet, and the necklaces beside them were made without elegance or grace. She raised her quizzing glass and studied the nearest piece of jewelry, a bracelet which contained a diamond far larger than anything else in the shop. She remembered what Connor had told her and took a chance. “I daresay we shall have no business together, if you try to interest me in trinkets made of worthless paste such as that bracelet there.”
The man whisked a bead of sweat from his balding head. “Quite, quite. You know your jewels, I can see that. Of course, that particular bracelet was simply a copy, something I made up for a client by way of a model.”
India didn’t believe it for a second, but she had the man’s interest now and she meant to take advantage of that. “Just so we understand each other.” She reached into her pocket and brought out the jewel. “My business is this.”
The jeweler’s eyes widened as he saw the great diamond winking on her palm. “As I live and breathe,” he whispered, reaching out toward the stone.
India held it back, however. “I am thinking of selling this, Mr.—”
“Montagu. Mortimer Montagu. It would be a pleasure to sell your diamond, but I’ll have to take a closer look.”
India relinquished the gem and followed him to a table covered with swatches of velvet and an array of chisels and files. “Do you do your own cutting here?”
“Some of it here, some elsewhere,” the jeweler said vaguely, as he caught up a small loupe and drew a branch of candles closer. He stared intently at the diamond, absolutely motionless. Somewhere at the back of the shop a door closed.
The jeweler sat back slowly and let the loupe fall to his lap. “Extraordinary. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. Not since…” His voice trailed away.
Just the same way Thorne’s had trailed away, India thought. “Well?” she said abruptly. “How much will it fetch?”
“A king’s ransom,” the jeweler murmured. “If I could find a buyer for it, that is.”
“What do you mean?” India said sharply. “It’s magnificent, you said so yourself.”
“So I did. But a stone of that size and clarity will require a buyer with a great deal of ready capital.” He turned the gem slowly, watching the facets reflect the light. “If you would leave it here with me, I’ll make some inquiries. In two or three days I should be able to—”
India laughed lazily. “Leave it here with you? You must think me an utter fool. No, the stone goes with me.” She dropped a vellum card onto the sheet of black velvet. “If you find someone who is interested, send a message to that address. Meanwhile, I have other business in the area. I am looking for a jeweler several streets away,” she said lazily. “You must know of it.”
The jeweler was now a most unhealthy shade of gray. “Never tell me you mean to take that magnificent stone to Parrish Brothers? They’ll rob you blind, so they will. Besides, they don’t know diamonds from quartz,” he protested.
So they would rob her blind? India smiled. Parrish Brothers sounded like an ideal place for her next stop. She pocketed her gem and strolled to the door. “Send me a message if you have interest. Until then, good day.”
She felt the jeweler’s eyes follow her all the way down the street. Somewhere nearby church bells tolled the hour of two.
~ ~ ~
Back at Devonham House, the Earl of Thornwood was glaring at Connor MacKinnon. “What do you mean, she was asking about diamonds?”
Connor shrugged, a lazy smile curving his lips. “Just what I said. The lady was interested in a special stone. I was to meet her at two o’clock and accompany her to several jewelers.”
“Why in heaven’s didn’t she ask me?” Devlyn muttered. “And why did she tell me to come here, knowing she would already be gone? Of co
urse it’s that blasted gem. It must have to do with l’Aurore.”
Connor went very still. “L’Aurore? Why would India be interested in Napoleon’s favorite diamond?”
Devlyn’s eyes narrowed. “You know of the stone?”
“Anyone with half an interest in jewels has heard of that particular pink diamond. Along with the Sancy and the Condé, it ranks as one of the three rarest pink diamonds in the world. L’Aurore was Napoleon’s favorite, a stone that he credits for every victory he’s ever had. What I want to know is how India came to possess it, for a more cursed jewel never existed.”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss it,” Dev said stiffly. “Besides, what is your connection with Ind — Lady India?”
“I am one of Luc Delamere’s closest friends. Because of that, I choose to interest myself in India’s happiness.”
“Oh you do, do you? So do I.” Thorne’s eyes flashed. “And I can keep her happy very well by myself.”
The smile in Connor’s eyes showed that he was enjoying himself immensely. “She’s a rare sort of woman, but I suggest you take her in hand, Thornwood. Whoever lost that diamond is going to be very anxious to have it back.”
“What do you know about l’Aurore?” Devlyn said grimly.
“Coupled with the Sancy and the Condé in the hands of one collector, the three stones would be beyond price. Certainly enough to raise armies and sway the destiny of Europe.” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I believe l’Aurore was once in the possession of the Dey of Algiers. He personally slit the throats of two of his own brothers to acquire it. I can only wonder how the stone came into Napoleon’s keeping.”
“You seem to know a great deal,” Thorne muttered.
Connor shrugged. “I hear many things. Such information is helpful to me in my business.”
“And just what sort of business is that, MacKinnon?”
“Gold, jewels, silks, and spices. I even deal in English woolens on occasion. My ships cover most of the globe and through their captains I collect information of all sorts.”
Come the Dawn Page 21