The clerk glanced at the portrait and the sketch. He shook his head. ‘I have never seen either of them before.’
‘Are you sure?’
He picked up the portrait and inspected the bracelet through his jeweller’s eyepiece. His lip curled. ‘I have never seen anything like this in my life.’
She picked up the items and was about to tuck them away when an elderly man, with greying whiskers, a bald pate and a cheerfully ruddy complexion, came through a door behind the counter. ‘Something wrong, Jeffries?’
‘This lady is looking for a family heirloom, Mr Rundell,’ the young clerk said, his demeanour changing from scornful to obsequious.
The old gentleman took out a monocle which he screwed into one eye and peered at the portrait. He shook his head. ‘It has not passed through our hands, madam. I would recall it.’
‘Where else might I try? My, er, my relative was rather desperate at the time.’ No need to show him Grey’s likeness, since he hadn’t sold the bracelet here.
Mr Rundell’s face furrowed with doubt. ‘You think he sold it outright, rather than pawned it?’
‘I am honestly not sure. He has not been in contact with me for a long time.’
‘A moment, if you please.’
He disappeared through the door by which he had entered. The clerk moved off to serve a couple who had entered the shop while she was speaking with the owner.
The old man returned after several minutes. He handed her a piece of paper. ‘Here is a list of where your relation might have gone to sell such an item. Gambling debts, I am assuming,’ he said with a note of disapproval in his voice.
If only it was that simple. ‘Quite possibly.’
He peered at her over the spectacles he had donned. ‘These at the top of the list are respectable places. Below the line... Well, madam, may I suggest you send your footman?’
He had gone far beyond the call of duty. No wonder people thought so highly of this establishment.
‘Thank you, Mr Rundell, you have been most helpful.’
Rundell bowed. ‘I wish you well on your quest, madam. It is a unique piece. Whoever saw it will recall it. I only wish the young gentleman had come here. I would have kept it rather than sell it on, for I know how it is with these family items.’
Clutching his notes, she walked out into the street, before reading the list. Mr Rundell had printed not only the names of the business, but their addresses. As he had said, the first three were on Ludgate Hill, as he was. The rest were on streets she did not know. She hailed a cabriolet and gave the driver the first address below the line. She assumed they would get worse the further down the list she got, but if Grey had been as desperate as she assumed, then it was likely he would not have entered the exclusive shops on this street. They would have asked him too many uncomfortable questions about the bracelet’s provenance.
Something she should have thought about before.
The next address was only one street over and while it was small, the neighbourhood was not too run down. ‘Wait for me,’ she said to her driver.
He scratched his nose. ‘’Ow do I know you won’t skip out the back door?’
Oh goodness, clearly she had entered a whole other world by leaving the main street. She dived in her reticule. ‘How much?’
‘Two and sixpence, if you wants me to wait.’
Exorbitant. But beggars could not be choosers as his smug expression said all too clearly. She handed over the coins. At this rate, she would have nothing left in short order.
The man in the shop shook his head at both the portrait and the sketch, so it was off to the next business on her list.
At the next address, she once more handed over two shillings and sixpence in advance to keep her conveyance waiting.
This shop was in a narrow, rather unpleasant-smelling alley and up a flight of gloomy stairs. The three balls hanging outside the door proclaimed it was a pawnbroker. The fellow behind the counter was dressed in a flashy waistcoat embroidered with forget-me-nots and lilies of the valley. Likely something someone had pawned and never come back for. She pulled out the miniature. ‘Has this piece of jewellery ever been brought into your store?’ she asked, pointing to her mother’s wrist.
Like Mr Rundell, he inserted a monocle into his eye socket and inspected the picture closely.
He shook his head. ‘Can’t say as how it has.’
‘What about this gentleman?’ She smiled sweetly, holding out the sketch.
The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who wants to know?’
‘I am willing to pay for the bracelet’s return. It is a family treasure. I am also willing to pay for information about this man who may know of its whereabouts. I am not looking to cause any trouble for anyone.’
‘Never seen ’em before.’
‘Might anyone else here have seen either one?’
He narrowed his eyes as if trying to divine the truth. Finally he nodded. ‘Wait here, madam.’ He took the portrait and the sketch through a door behind the counter. He returned within moments. ‘It never came here.’ He gave her an oily smile. ‘We could make you one.’
She stared at him blankly.
‘If you lost it, we can replace it. Make it with paste, if you can’t afford stones. We does it all the time for ladies what’s misplaced items.’
He gave her a knowing wink. He must think she had given them to a lover who had sold them off. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Thank goodness for her veil.
‘Thank you, I will keep that in mind.’
The man opened the door for her and she headed back down those dark stairs.
If this unpleasant place was second on the list, what would the ones lower down be like? Her stomach clenched. She wanted to find Grey, but she wasn’t an idiot. Perhaps she should give up this quest.
A man on his way up the stairs backed down when he saw her. In the half-light she could make out his shape, but not his features. She halted, waiting for him to get to the bottom so she could pass.
He glanced up and halted, staring at her.
‘If you would be so kind,’ she murmured, hoping to remind him of his manners.
‘It is you!’ a familiar voice said.
‘Good lord,’ she said, recoiling. Her heart picked up speed, her mouth dried. ‘Lord Sandford. Fancy meeting you here.’
‘I do not fancy it at all,’ he said grimly. He waved an imperious hand. ‘Down you come, if you please.’
‘You have no right to speak to me in such a manner,’ she said, the hairs on her nape bristling.
‘Do I not?’ His voice had a hard edge to it. ‘Once more I find you putting yourself in danger, and after I told you I would look after the matter. This. Must. Stop.’ Again came the imperious hand gesture.
She glanced back over her shoulder, aware of the shopkeeper having come out of his door to see what was going on. ‘Very well. I will accept your escort to my carriage.’
‘Your carriage?’ He made a scornful sound. ‘If you mean that disgusting hackney outside, I will do no such thing.’
She stiffened at the autocratic words, but couldn’t help feeling relieved. He was right, it was disgusting, she’d simply tried not to notice.
Head high, she walked down the stairs and, when she reached him, he turned to allow her to pass and followed her down to the street.
‘You will allow me to escort you home,’ he said pleasantly, though there was nothing pleasant in his expression as he took her arm and handed her into his carriage. ‘I will pay your driver off.’
A few moments later the hackney drove away and.
Sandford climbed in beside her. He eyed her askance. ‘What devil’s mischief are you up to now?
Oh dear, what should she tell him? The truth. Ultimately, honesty had been the watchword of all their dealings.
He wasn’t going to like it.
&
nbsp; Chapter Eight
Staring at Tess as she lifted her veil and draped it back over her bonnet, revealing her face, Jaimie could not remember the last time he had felt quite this angry. He didn’t usually let himself get angry. He solved problems using his brain, but her lack of trust in his abilities was simply infuriating.
He calmed himself. ‘Well, Lady Tess?’
She sighed. ‘I had another idea of how I might find my bracelet.’
He frowned. What game was she playing now? ‘I thought it was your brother we intended to find?’ He had men scouring the city based on the description she had provided.
She winced as if his words caused her pain. ‘I thought it might lead me to him.’
Damnation. Something twisted in his chest, unpleasant and painful. Surely he wasn’t jealous of her devotion to this man? He reverted to his usual bored expression. ‘I thought you were going to leave the investigation to me.’
‘That was your idea, not mine.’
Mouth agape, he stared at her. ‘We came to an agreement. If your half-brother cares anything for you at all, as you seem to imply, he would not want you going into places like this.’ He stabbed a finger in the direction of the establishment she’d so recently left.
She closed her eyes for a second. ‘I know. I started at Rundell & Bridge. Mr Rundell gave me a list of possible places to look.’
‘Mr Rundell suggested you come here? I am going to have a word with that worthy.’
‘Jaimie, no.’ She leaned forward and put a hand on his arm. Her touch sent tingles up his arm.
He stilled. It was the first time she had voluntarily used his given name.
‘Mr Rundell suggested I send a footman with the portrait I showed him.’
He took a deep breath. ‘A portrait of your half-brother?’
‘No, the portrait of my mother.’
He was losing the thread again. ‘Why—?’
She pulled a miniature from her reticule and thrust it at him. ‘It includes a likeness of the bracelet.’
He stared at the intricate piece of jewellery on the wrist of the woman who looked a great deal like Tess. It was indeed a unique piece and instantly recognisable. He glanced down at the list Tess had given him, wincing at the locales. ‘Which of these have you visited?’
‘The first two below the line. After my visit to Rundell & Bridge where they were curious about where the bracelet came from, I decided it unlikely that Grey would have gone to anyone on Ludgate Hill.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Honestly, I had decided not to go to any more of the places on the list after I left that last one. They became progressively more unpleasant.’
Imagining what might have become of her in this part of London, Jaimie felt his throat dry. He swallowed down his fear for her and shot her a glare. ‘I am glad to know you have a smidgeon of sense left.’
‘Why are you here?’
For a moment, he thought of spinning her a tale, but decided there was no reason to prevaricate. ‘I am pursuing enquiries into recent robberies.’
She glanced in the direction of the shop she had left. ‘He buys stolen items?’
He nodded grimly. ‘He does.’
‘I am not surprised.’
‘You are fortunate you came to no harm. I will take your portrait to the others on your list, if you wish.’ He groaned inwardly. Another distraction from his task was the last thing he needed. He could not seem to stop offering to do things for her that he would never do for anyone else.
She glanced at the paper in his hand. ‘I suppose you know all of these shops.’
He frowned. ‘There is one here that is new to me.’
‘Do you think...?’ Hope coloured her voice and filled her soft gaze.
Hope for what? An unpleasant suspicion tightened his gut. ‘Out with it.’
She ducked her head a fraction. ‘I would like to go with you. When you go to enquire about the bracelet.’
He recoiled. ‘Certainly not. You have already seen far more than you should have of this sort of establishment. And that really is not the worst of them.’
‘I realise that, but in your company—’
‘No.’
‘But you don’t know Grey. You won’t know if he had been there or if it was someone else who brought in the bracelet.’
She sounded so logical, so reasonable, when what she was asking was so absolutely beyond the pale. He dredged his mind for sensible words. The sort of words his father might have spoken to his wife had she asked for such impossibilities. He found none. He didn’t know his parents well enough.
Anger spilled over. Anger at the loss. Anger that she had reminded him of it yet again. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’
She shot bolt upright in the seat and grabbed for the portrait. ‘Then I do not need your help, Lord Sandford.’
He easily held it out of her reach. Her personality was so forceful, he was always forgetting how tiny she was. How easily overpowered. He grasped her outstretched hand, pulling her towards him. She landed hard against his chest. He gazed down into her startled face, while inside him anger warred with fear for her safety. Her eyes hazed over and drew him down into their depths. She wetted her lips with a little dart of her tongue. His groin tightened. Instead of giving her the lecture on behaviour he had intended, he...kissed her.
She struggled for one brief moment and then she threw her other arm around him and kissed him back. It was long breathless moments later when they broke apart and he realised his anger had fled, to be replaced by a much less complex and more demanding passion. Not something he should indulge. Not unless he wanted to find himself leg-shackled in the immediate future, which he definitely did not. He gazed down into her flushed face and was struck anew by her beauty. Damn it, despite every logical sensible reason he could come up with, he was going to let her have her way.
He gave a sigh of resignation and set her back on her seat. ‘Very well, we will visit this next place on your list. I will return here later with regard to my own business.’
‘Thank you. I-I am sorry to be so insistent, but I am terrified something bad has happened to Grey. He is the only real family I have left. Well, the only one I truly care about.’
He could remember his feeling of joy when Michael had returned home. The relief. A crushing weight had lifted from his shoulders. If he had been able to search for his cousin, he would have done so, but in those early years he could barely leave his bed for pain, not to mention the opium.
He rapped on the roof of the carriage. The coachman lifted the trapdoor. Jaimie gave him the next address.
‘What are the items you are seeking from the robberies you are investigating?’ she asked as the carriage moved off.
‘Small things, items easily disposed of.’ He dragged his own list from his pocket and handed it over.
‘A silver spoon,’ she read, ‘with monogram A.R. A salt cellar, silver. A silver cake server. These hardly seem worth the trouble of a man in your position.’
Her quick understanding surprised him anew. ‘It isn’t the items themselves so much as it is the way the perpetrator gains entry into the house without anyone being any the wiser. The ton are starting to fear for their lives.’
‘Has he hurt someone?’
‘Not as yet, but he walks willy-nilly through their houses at night.’
‘Oh.’ She peered at the list. ‘I recognise this name.’
‘I recognise them all. They are all members of the ton.’
‘Yes, but, I mean, someone mentioned this person to me recently. And not in a favourable light.’
‘Therefore it is all right for them to be terrorised in their own homes?’
‘That is not what I meant.’
She tapped her lips with a forefinger. Plump rosy lips he had kissed only a moment ago. Lips that w
ere pouting as she thought, tempting him to kiss them again. Damn it, she was the most annoying female.
‘Oh.’ The little o formed by those pretty lips definitely needed kissing. After all, they were alone in a closed carriage with no one to see and perhaps she needed to be reminded why it was not a good idea for a young lady to gallivant around town unaccompanied. A very gentle reminder. He slid an arm around her waist and the other under her knees and lifted her on to his lap. Something inside him finally relaxed, felt right.
‘Oh,’ she said again, all breathless, and this time her lips softened to sultry.
He kissed her. Or she kissed him. Whichever it was, it mattered not one jot. His brain scrambled. His body hardened. His heart pounded so hard against his ribs he half-expected it to smash its way out. The carriage lurched around a corner. Even mindless, some instinct had him bracing his feet and holding her fast so she did not tumble to the floor. Unfortunately it also ended the kiss.
She stared at him, cheeks rosy, lips plush and red, eyes soft. ‘Oh, my,’ she whispered. With a touch as light as a feather, she stroked his cheek with her fingertips.
Oh, hell. No wonder parents didn’t allow single young ladies to ride alone in carriages with gentlemen. Right now all he wanted to do was rip her off her clothes and bury himself deep within her body. If she’d let him. ‘Tess.’
‘Jaimie.’
The sound of his name on those deliciously inviting lips had him harder than rock. The invitation in her voice stole his breath. He pulled her closer, kissed her deeply, savouring the feel of her lush little bottom against his aching shaft. It would not take much—
No, not here. Not in a carriage. Awkward and fumbling. Hurried.
His manhood protested that smidgeon of sense, fought for control, demanding fulfilment. With great effort he returned her to her side of the carriage, hating the chill that replaced the warmth of her touch.
‘Oh, goodness,’ she said, her expression sensual, her lips moist and plump from his kisses.
He mentally cursed his lack of control with this particular woman. She’d have him dancing to her tune if he didn’t get a grip on his lust and whatever else it was making her almost irresistible. Had he not sworn after Hester died never to let any woman rob him of reason? Had he not learned his lesson about headstrong females with not a thought in their heads but the instant fulfilment of whatever desire they had at that moment?
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