Only a Duchess Would Dare

by Amelia Grey

“I didn’t lose my friends,” Race said flatly. “I lost something else. My safe was robbed last night.”

  “What?” his cousins said in unison as the front legs of Blake’s chair hit the floor with a thud.

  “The contents of my safe were cleaned out last night, including Grandmother’s pearls.”

  “Damnation,” Blake said.

  “Bloody hell,” Morgan whispered. “What the devil happened? Did no one in the house hear the thief breaking in?”

  “Was it one of your servants?”

  “I don’t think so,” Race said quietly, looking from one cousin to the other. “No one had to break in. The back door was left unlocked.”

  “I hope you turned off the bloody servant who was careless enough to do that,” Blake said.

  “Unfortunately, I’m the one who left the door unlocked.”

  “You?” Morgan questioned.

  Race nodded.

  Blake shrugged. “Locking up is one of the reasons we have servants. I know they are all careless at times. That’s just the way of it. It’s not your fault. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We expect our homes to be sacrosanct.”

  “The thief must be a servant,” Morgan argued. “There can’t be that many people who know where your safe is located or how to get into it. I’d venture to say that most of your servants know.”

  “All the servants had already been dismissed for the night when I went out the back door and left it unlocked.”

  “And someone just happened to know you left the door unlocked?” Blake questioned.

  Morgan rubbed his temple and studied over that comment. “I agree. That seems a bit far-fetched to me, unless someone has been watching your house, just waiting for it to be vulnerable.”

  “Wait. Something’s not right,” Blake said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Why do I get the feeling there is something more to this story than you are telling us?”

  “Like who knew you would be going out and leaving it unlocked?” Morgan asked.

  “A woman?” Blake said, catching on to Morgan’s line of thinking.

  “Maybe Susannah?” Morgan offered.

  Blake’s forehead wrinkled. “The duchess? How?”

  Race remained quiet.

  Morgan took a sip of his drink and then looked at Blake and responded, “Easy. She lives in the house directly behind him, and something tells me she knew he would be with her.”

  The corners of Blake’s lips lifted in a knowing grin. “As in all night?”

  “Most of it, anyway,” Morgan offered.

  “You two can be such bloody blackguards,” Race mumbled.

  Blake landed a fist on the table with a thump. “So she lured you into her bed, and then she had someone sneak into your house and pilfer what she came to Town for. She got the pearls.”

  “I thought so at first, but not anymore. There are other, more likely suspects,” Race countered, not wanting his cousins to condemn Susannah as he had.

  “But if not Susannah, who?” Blake queried.

  “I don’t know the answer to that yet.”

  “But we do know whom she was in bed with,” Morgan remarked slyly. “Did she give you that little scratch under your eye?”

  Race reached up and touched the scrape he’d received on his cheek while crawling through the hedge after he’d left Susannah’s house that morning. That cut was minor compared to some of the ones on his chest and back. He looked like he’d been in a fight with a cat and lost.

  Race didn’t want to discuss Susannah with his cousins. He had to tell them the necklace had been stolen but he didn’t have to tell them anything else about Susannah.

  Blake picked up his wine glass and took a sip. “Have you been to see the magistrate?”

  “Not yet and may not for a time. I will be having some things done that he wouldn’t approve of. I spent most of the afternoon with a man on Bow Street named Mr. Walter Bickerman.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Blake said. “He has one of the best reputations of all the runners.”

  Race nodded. “He immediately dispatched men to watch Spyglass’s and Winston’s residences, Smith’s shop, and Spyglass’s ship, the Golden Pearl, which as of a short time ago was still in the harbor. They will be followed wherever they go, even if they leave Town. That way we’ll know where they are at all times.”

  “I think I’m missing something.” Morgan paused and rubbed the area between his eyes with his thumb. “How is following them going to get the pearls back?”

  Blake rested his forearm on the table. “It stands to reason that if Spyglass is the thief, he will now prepare to leave Town, since obtaining the pearls seems to be the only reason he came to London.”

  “I would think all of them are smart enough not to run the minute they got their hands on the pearls,” Morgan offered. “That would be like waving a flag and saying they were guilty.”

  “Bickerman and I discussed that. But we thought it was better to have the houses, shop, and ship watched anyway, to be safe. He is going to hire a man who can go in and search for safes and hiding places and try to find the pearls.”

  “Now that sounds like the right thing to do,” Morgan said.

  “And the reason the magistrate doesn’t need to know about this.”

  Race swallowed wine past a tight throat. “Yes. I wanted to go in and check the safes myself, but Bickerman reminded me of a very important point. I wouldn’t know how to open their safes even if I found where they were hidden.”

  Blake tilted his chair back again. “Yes, our grandmother saw that we were taught how to ride, play cards, and shoot, but not how to open a safe. How thoughtless.”

  “I don’t think our grandmother intended for us to rob anyone,” Race countered dryly. “The good thing is that Bickerman knows of a man who can do just that and he’s going to employ him for me.”

  “Someone who knows how to break into a house and open safes?” Morgan asked. “Who is he?”

  Race chuckled ruefully. “He wouldn’t tell me, of course. People who can do that sort of thing don’t want too many people knowing they can do it. It’s against the law, you know. Bickerman knows how badly I want the pearls back, and he wants the money I’ve promised when he finds them.”

  “So, I suppose the possibility that the duchess might be in on this will end your affair with her,” Blake said.

  Morgan picked up the wine bottle and topped off their glasses. “I’m sure it will. Remember Lord Chesterfield said that ‘Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret.’ We know about his liaison with her, so what fun could it be for him now?”

  Blake agreed with a nod and said, “But I was just remembering one of Chesterfield’s other quotes. ‘Hatred is by far the longest pleasure; men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.’”

  “Damn both of you,” Race muttered. “You know good and well Chesterfield never said either of those things. You’re both making them up just to get me riled, as if I wasn’t already.”

  “Actually,” Morgan said, “I believe it was a long-dead woman writer named Aphra Behn who first wrote what I quoted, and I do believe it to be true.” Morgan chuckled. “But I think I prefer what Blake quoted.”

  Blake smiled at Morgan. “I do too, and I’ll tell Lord Byron you said so the next time I see him. I think he is given credit for the quote about hatred and love, not that I know whether he was actually the first one to say it.”

  “Who was it who said ‘There are two things a man will wait forever for: love and revenge’?” Morgan asked.

  “That’s enough,” Race growled. By the stunned looks on their faces, he’d spoken roughly, but he was ready to put an end to their madness. “I need help from you two ninnies, not mindless quotes that mean nothing and that I care nothing about.”

  “Well, why didn’t you just say you wanted he
lp?” Blake argued. “In that case, I will talk to Susannah. Since I’m a duke and she a duchess, we should be able to have a respectful conversation. I’ll let her know in no uncertain terms that the pearls will be returned immediately or she will face dire consequences.”

  The last thing Race wanted was either of his cousins talking to Susannah. No one could ever be as hard on her as he had been.

  “That’s not necessary, Blake.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Morgan argued.

  “If you must know, I’ve already talked to her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “What do you expect she said, Morgan? She denies having any knowledge of the theft, and I believe her. For now, I know it is best for me to leave it to Bickerman’s man to look for the pearls, as much as I wanted to ransack their houses myself.”

  Blake drummed his fingers on the table once again. “Why are you so certain that Susannah is not an accomplice?”

  Morgan’s eyebrows lifted. “He’s protecting her.”

  “Call it what you like,” Race said in a warning voice.

  As if sensing the conversation between Morgan and Race was heating, Blake changed the subject by saying, “What else was stolen?”

  “Oddly, nothing of great importance: a small amount of money, some legal documents, but nothing I can’t live without.”

  “All right, so what’s next?”

  “Bickerman will watch Spyglass, Winston, and Smith like a hawk with his eye on his prey, until we find out which one is the thief,” Race said.

  Both his cousins nodded.

  “There’s one other thing. Keep this to yourselves. I don’t want anyone else to know, except of course Gibby, who I see is making his way toward us.”

  “You do plan to bring charges once the thief is caught, don’t you?” Morgan asked.

  “Of course,” Race said without hesitation.

  “What are you three guardian fools doing huddled together here in the corner, looking as if you are plotting to kidnap Prinny?”

  While Blake rose and pulled over a chair for Gibby, Race motioned for the server to bring over another glass.

  Gibby made fists and threw two or three light punches on Morgan’s upper arm. “Did that hurt? Did you see how fast I boxed?”

  Morgan grinned at him. “Yes. You’re fast and strong for an old man.”

  “Good.” Gibby smiled, and all four of them laughed.

  “What are you doing here?” Blake asked.

  “I came to find Race,” Gibby said, sitting in the chair Blake handed him. “I’ve looked everywhere for him today, and some places, like this one, twice.”

  “What do you have going on, Gib?”

  “I’m sure it’s not a crisis, but I wanted to tell Race that the duchess came to see me today.”

  Race went rigid, and his two cousins leaned intently toward Gibby. The old man’s eyes darted from one to the other.

  “Susannah came to see you?” Race asked.

  “What did she want?” Blake added.

  “What did she say?” Morgan asked.

  Race sighed heavily. “Would you two please let me ask the questions, since this conversation concerns me and not you?”

  Blake and Morgan leaned back in their chairs and nodded to Race with conciliatory expressions on their faces.

  “Susannah?” Gibby said. “Is that her name?”

  “Yes, but never mind that, Gib,” Race asked impatiently. “What did she want?”

  “She asked me if I would introduce her to Winston and Smith, the men who tried to buy the pearls from you.”

  “What the devil for?” Morgan asked.

  “I have no idea. That’s why I came to find him,” Gibby said, pointing his thumb toward Race. “I told her where Smith’s shop was located and agreed to introduce her to Winston.”

  Race remained quiet, but his mind started working. Susannah had already been to Smith’s shop to talk to him. Did she think she would go to Spyglass’s and Winston’s homes and question them? Or worse, search their houses for the pearls? Fear for Susannah’s safety tightened inside him. She was treading in dangerous waters, and it was his fault for suspecting her in the first place.

  Gibby continued, “She told me she had seen you this morning but wouldn’t tell me why. She said you would tell me. By the way she was talking, I knew something must have happened between you two but she wouldn’t say what.”

  Race’s cousins looked at each other and then at Race.

  Gibby rested his hands on his knees. “What are you three trying to keep from me?”

  “Should I tell him?” Morgan asked.

  “No,” Race said. “Our grandmother’s pearls were stolen from me last night.”

  Gib looked from one cousin to the other and then back to Race.

  “You told me the pearls were safe,” Gibby said with no accusation in his voice.

  “They were,” Morgan said. “They aren’t now.”

  “Do you have any idea who took them?” Gibby asked.

  “Three men and one lady readily come to mind,” Blake said ruefully.

  Gibby’s eyes widened, and he spread his swollen hands on the table. “Are you telling me you think Her Grace had something to do with stealing the pearls?”

  “No,” Race said firmly.

  “All we really know is that she’s one of the four who wanted them,” Blake added.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Gib argued. “Who wouldn’t want them? Probably everyone wants them.”

  Morgan added, “She wanted them badly enough to interrupt Race’s card party a couple of weeks ago, not to mention his slumber last night.”

  “Morgan, you are about to hit the floor,” Race muttered.

  Morgan held up his hands in surrender and tilted his chair away from Race.

  “At this point, anyone could have stolen them,” Blake offered.

  “What are you going to do?” Gibby asked.

  Race took another sip from his wine and briefly told Gibby about his meeting with Bickerman and what the runners would be doing to find the pearls.

  “So the only thing to do now is to wait and see what turns up when the houses are searched.”

  Gibby leaned back heavily in his chair and sighed. “Why would Susannah want to be in contact with Spyglass, Winston, or Smith if she was in on the theft?”

  “Only one thing I can think of,” Morgan said. “She wants Race to think she’s innocent. She knew you would tell him of her visit.”

  Gibby rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “No, that doesn’t feel right.”

  Blake picked up the wine bottle and added another splash to the three glasses on the table. “Race, don’t let this get to you or change any of the plans you already have in place. There is the possibility that Susannah is doing this to make it look like she’s not involved. Just let Bickerman handle this.”

  Race didn’t want Susannah to even think about contacting those men. He knew he was not going to be any good at waiting. Already he wanted to see Susannah again. He wanted to tell her once again to stay away from those men. The thought of her being alone with any of them made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  “Just in case you want to talk to her about any of this, she’ll be at the Kendricksons’ party tomorrow night,” Gibby offered.

  “In that case, I think we’ll all be there,” Blake said.

  “Race, while you are deciding what to do about the pearls, Susannah, and the men,” Morgan said, “I suggest that since we are all together, we talk to Gibby about this fight with Prattle.”

  Race was in no mood to talk about Prattle, but he didn’t say anything because he was happy to get them off the subject of Susannah.

  “What do you want to say to me?”

  “It’s no secret th
at we don’t want you going through with this fight,” Morgan said. “Race was supposed to talk to you about the possibility of paying Prattle off. It could very well be that money is what he was after in the first place.”

  “If he wants money,” Gibby said, “he’d better bet against himself and put a wager on me, because that’s the only way he’s going to get any blunt out of this fight.”

  “I heard just today that Prattle made rumblings that he may not go through with the fight,” Blake said, “and now he has men offering him money to go through with it, win or lose. I don’t think he’s going to back out.”

  “Look at your hands, Gib,” Morgan said. “You’re too old to fight.”

  Gibby looked at his enlarged hands and said, “I have people coming up to me on the street just to wish me luck. Why would I want to give that up?”

  “Because you are not a young man anymore,” Morgan offered.

  “Fiddlesticks. Lord Chesterfield always said ‘You are as young as you feel.’”

  “Gib.” Blake laughed. “You know Chesterfield never said that.”

  “He could have said it,” Gibby argued. “You don’t know he didn’t.”

  “Yes, we do. Remember, our grandmother drilled his best quotes into us. That’s not pompous enough for him to have said.”

  The server put a glass of milk down in front of Gibby. Morgan and Blake looked at Gibby.

  “What is this about?” Blake asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Race said.

  “It all has to do with getting my body strong for the fight.”

  Gib stood up and threw three or four punches into the air as he shuffled his feet back and forth.

  “How’s that? Am I getting quicker?” he asked, throwing more jabs into the air.

  “No,” Morgan said with a grin. “You look old and tired.”

  And with that, Gibby threw a hard punch that landed on Morgan’s chin and knocked him out of his chair onto the floor.

  Race and Blake shook their heads and laughed as Morgan got up, rubbing his chin.

  “You bloody bruiser, you really hit me,” Morgan said as his eyes widened.

  “Of course I did. Sorry about that.” Gibby grinned. “I guess I forgot for a moment that I was old and tired.”