Ransomed Jewels

by Laura Landon

  She placed the book she was inspecting in her lap and stared into space as if trying to recall. “Nothing out of the ordinary. We returned late in the afternoon and I went upstairs to change and rest for a while. We ate a light dinner and Hunt spent the rest of the evening in here. He might have worked all night because when I woke the next morning, the door was still closed.”

  “He didn’t come to your bed that night?”

  Sam could see her cheeks darken from where he stood on the ladder. She busied herself with another book and answered with a soft, “No.”

  “What was your marriage like?”

  Her gaze flew up to him and she glared at him with a sharp, disbelieving look. “That is hardly any of your business, Major.”

  “But it is.” Sam took a step down the ladder. “Were you and your husband close enough that he’d confide in you about the necklace and the papers when you returned from France?”

  Sam watched her hands clench in her lap. “I didn’t know about the necklace until I received the first threat.”

  “When was that?”

  “A month or so after Hunt’s death?”

  “Who was it from?”

  “I don’t know. It was just a demand for the necklace and instructions where to leave it.”

  “What did you do when you received it?”

  “I began my search for the necklace. I thought perhaps I’d find it among Hunt’s papers. When I didn’t find it, I considered that the demand was a hoax. Until the night that man broke into my house.”

  His hands tightened to fists. Bloody hell. Didn’t she realize the danger she was in?

  He leveled her a glare filled with warning. “Whatever your relationship with Roseneau, he’s not worth the risk you’re taking. When this is all over, he’s going to be lucky to escape with his life. If the Russians don’t make him pay for what he’s done, the traitor will kill him to keep his identity a secret.”

  Her face paled. Her eyes filled with terror at the mention of Roseneau and the lengths everyone involved in this would go to protect themselves. “Are you trying to frighten me, Major?”

  “If you’re smart, you’re already so frightened that nothing I say can scare you more. I just want you to realize I won’t allow you to give the necklace to Roseneau.”

  There was a noticeable lift to her shoulders, and Sam felt an invisible wall go up between them.

  The two of them had come to somewhat of a silent agreement the previous night. They would both search for the necklace and the papers. When they found the papers, he had no doubt she would willingly give them up. But when they found the necklace, he would have to take it from her. And he would. He just wanted to know what was so bloody important about possessing the necklace.

  The closed look on her face was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Watkins stood there with an expectant expression.

  “Excuse me, my lady, but you have a guest. Lord Barnaby has returned and would like a moment of your time.”

  “Barnaby,” she whispered softly, but Sam couldn’t miss the affection in her voice when she spoke his name.

  Sam watched the transformation in her with amazed interest. Her fingers flew to her mouth as if stifling a cry and she jumped to her feet.

  “Yes, Watkins. Tell Lord Barnaby I’ll be right there.”

  She made a move to leave and Sam stopped her with a raised hand. “Show Lord Barnaby in, Watkins.”

  “No. I need to—”

  “Lady Huntingdon will receive him here,” Sam ordered again. Watkins turned to his mistress, then with a look of regret, nodded and left the room.

  Sam ignored the hostile expression on Lady Huntingdon’s face and watched the doorway, waiting for the man who’d come to see Hunt’s widow.

  Sam knew from her reaction the two of them were close. Just how close remained a mystery. From the expectant look on her face when Watkins announced him, she anticipated that this Lord Barnaby would rescue her from all her threats. Especially him.

  Every warning alarm he’d perfected from his years in the service screamed. He readied himself to be on the alert, but even that wasn’t enough for the shock when the door opened and Watkins announced their guest.

  The stranger entered the room, and stopped. A frown deepened across his forehead. It was obvious he was confused by Sam’s presence. And resented having him here.

  Sam met the stranger’s gaze and studied him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Sam couldn’t place where he’d seen the stranger before. He was obviously close to Lady Huntingdon. The look of relief—even adoration—he saw on her face gnawed in the pit of his stomach. Her reaction left him feeling unexplainably irritated.

  The hopeful anticipation etched on her every feature coiled a knot deep inside him. Sam turned back to the man called Lord Barnaby.

  “Major Bennett,” Lady Huntingdon said softly, “I’d like you to meet—”

  “The major and I have already met,” Lord Barnaby interrupted, his gaze not leaving Sam’s.

  Lady Huntingdon looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

  “Yes. The major and I have a mutual acquaintance,” Lord Barnaby offered, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Although I don’t often see you in your cousin’s company, I recall having seen you with him.”

  Sam was confused. Why didn’t he remember this meeting?

  “You are acquainted with my cousin, the Earl of Cardmall?” Sam asked, trying to decide if there was any reason to question Lord Barnaby’s connection to his cousin. “And how is Ross?”

  “He was fine when last I saw him. But that was quite some time ago. I’ve been out of town for several weeks.”

  Sam studied the visitor with a discerning eye. With a warning that prickled the hair at the back of his neck, Sam realized Lord Barnaby was studying him with as much intensity.

  Sam guessed Lord Barnaby’s age at approximately his own, nearing thirty. There was something about him that told Sam Lord Barnaby was used to taking command of every room he entered.

  “You were a friend of Lord Huntingdon’s?” Sam asked, stepping aside to allow Lord Barnaby to enter. Lady Huntingdon’s guest moved forward, but didn’t take his evaluative gaze off Sam, a trait Sam found more than a little disconcerting.

  The stranger’s hair was dark blond and a little longer than was in fashion. He sported a shadowy beard that evidenced the days he’d spent traveling. The fact that he’d come to see Lady Huntingdon before even seeing to his own needs gave Sam cause to question exactly how close the friendship between them might be.

  The man was dressed in an expensively tailored jacket and pants, and his demeanor was every inch that of nobility. Not until Sam walked to where Lady Huntingdon stood did Lord Barnaby’s gaze rest on her for more than just a glance.

  Sam watched the expression on his face change. Saw the muscles of his jaw knot and his fists clench.

  Lady Huntingdon’s face had improved much; the swelling had gone down and the bruises had gone from purple and black to faded greens and yellows. But the dark circles rimming her eyes only made her pale complexion seem sicklier.

  The look on Lord Barnaby’s face went from concern to outrage and he reached out his hand to turn her face for a closer look. “Claire?”

  Claire? Sam took note of the familiarity.

  “It’s all right, Barn. It looks much worse than it is.” Lady Huntingdon cast them both a nervous glance. Out of instinct, Sam moved closer to her. Lord Barnaby did the same.

  “What happened?”

  “Someone broke into the house last week.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Major Bennett came to my rescue.”

  “You have to get out of here. I’ll take you—”

  “Lady Huntingdon’s not going anywhere,” Sam interrupted, unable to conceal his fury.

  Sam saw Lord Barnaby’s physical reaction, saw his shoulders rise and his back straighten. Saw the muscles in his jaw knot and his hands clench to fists.
The large man, who Sam was sure would be quite formidable in a fight, moved forward as if he intended to go on the attack.

  Lady Huntingdon stopped him with a raise of her hand. “I can’t go anywhere, Barn. Not until we find the necklace.”

  “Did you tell the major you don’t have it?”

  Sam was shocked. “You know about the necklace?”

  “Yes. And you can’t think Claire has it.”

  They both looked at Lady Huntingdon.

  “I’m afraid he does,” she answered for Sam. “Or at least he did. Is that right, Major?”

  Sam nodded.

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “It’s all right, Barn. It seems just before Hunt died, he told the major he’d given me the necklace.”

  “But he didn’t. Why would Hunt say such a thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Lady Huntingdon said almost as a whisper.

  Sam watched the expression on her face turn from masked confusion to outright fear. Lord Barnaby must have seen it, too.

  “Claire can’t help you, Major. It’s stupid to keep her here where she’s in danger.”

  “No,” Sam argued. “It’s essential she remain here. She may remember something that will help us locate the necklace. As for her safety, I have a small army of men guarding her. She’s safer here than anywhere else.”

  “I can see how well you protected her, Major.”

  Sam took a warning step forward, struggling to keep his temper in check. Lord Barnaby closed the distance with an equally determined step.

  “That’s enough,” Claire said, raising her hand. “Arguing will accomplish nothing. Besides, the major’s right, Barn. I can’t leave. Not until we find the necklace.”

  “Are you sure, Claire? I could take you—”

  “She’ll stay here. No harm will come to her.”

  Sam kept his voice soft but maintained an unyielding tone. The two men faced off, Lord Barnaby’s piercing glare a warning Sam had no trouble interpreting.

  “See that it doesn’t. Or you’ll answer to me.”

  The man Lady Huntingdon had familiarly called Barn gave Sam another deadly look. He then looked back to her as if to give her another chance to change her mind about staying. When he was assured she thought herself safe enough with Sam, he bade her farewell with the promise to return.

  When he was gone, Sam had the strangest feeling that he’d just been threatened by a man who wouldn’t hesitate to carry through on his threat.

  Chapter 11

  The mantel clock struck midnight as Claire raced across the flagstone terrace and descended the three brick steps. She ran down the garden walk, taking the side path past the cherub fountain, then around the white lattice gazebo to the cluster of stone benches. She could travel this way in her sleep, she knew it so well. She’d spent many an hour here since Hunt died. Thinking. Wondering. Questioning. But never coming up with any answers.

  She pulled her skirts close to her so they wouldn’t get snagged on the thorns of the rose bushes that lined the walk, and raced toward her destination.

  It was a beautiful summer night, clear and crisp, with a gentle breeze blowing and not a cloud in the sky. The moon was full, lighting the path as she made her way around a bed of azaleas.

  Now she would not have to battle the major by herself. Barnaby was back, and she could lean on him when the overwhelming confusion the major caused became too intense. She would have Barnaby to keep her mind focused on finding the necklace that would save Alex, instead of the niggling whispers of her conscience that told her the necklace should be used for a greater good than saving only one man.

  But that one man is Alex. How could she live with herself if she didn’t do everything in her power to save him? How could there be any greater good?

  She pushed such traitorous thoughts aside as she turned to the right. She took three short steps. Then stopped.

  “Claire?”

  She clasped her hands to her mouth and cried out his name, then raced into his waiting arms.

  His arms wrapped around her, enfolding her to him like a shelter in a raging storm. For a few minutes he held her and let her lose herself in his strength. She was never so grateful for anything in her life.

  When she calmed, he placed his finger beneath her chin and tipped her face upward. Claire knew the bright moonlight would reveal more of her bruises than she wanted him to see. She lowered her gaze and studied the deep V of his open shirt. Ever so gently he ran his finger over her cheek and across her jaw.

  “I never should have left you alone.”

  “You had to.” Claire’s stomach knotted. “You didn’t find it?”

  “No. I searched Hunt’s two country estates. It wasn’t there.”

  “Oh, Barn. Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Barnaby placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back. It gave him a better view of her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, fine. The major took excellent care of me.” She smiled. “Mostly because he wants the necklace.” Claire pulled away from Barnaby and clamped her hands around his upper arms. “Barn, they’ve got Alex.”

  Claire’s brother stepped back as if he’d been struck. “What did you say?”

  “Roseneau’s got Alex.”

  “Bloody hell! How do you know?”

  “The man Roseneau sent to get the necklace told me.”

  “But the major said he was Russian.”

  “He was. Anyway, his accent indicated he was. But Roseneau sent him.”

  Claire saw the hard look in Barnaby’s eyes. “What did Roseneau’s man tell you? Every word, Claire. What did he say?”

  “He said they had Alex and would kill him if I didn’t hand over the necklace.” Claire swiped at the tears that ran freely down her cheeks and she choked back a sob. “Roseneau is scheduled to arrive in England in a few days, if he’s not already here.”

  “Is there any chance Major Bennett’s found it and is just playing with you?”

  Claire shook her head. “He doesn’t have it, Barn. He’s as desperate to find it as we are.” Claire swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Oh, Barn, what are we going to do? The major thinks the Russians sent the man who came after the necklace. He believes I want to give the necklace to Roseneau because we’re lovers.”

  “The bastard,” Barnaby whispered.

  “If the major finds it first, he’ll never use it to free Alex.”

  Barnaby reached for her hands and held them in his. “We’ll get Alex, with or without the necklace.”

  Barnaby released her, then paced the small walk. He stopped suddenly and turned to face her. “Does the major know Roseneau’s got Alex?”

  Claire shook her head.

  “You don’t trust him, do you?” He paced a few feet in front of her. “Why?”

  Claire felt a cold chill race down her spine. “Oh, Barnaby.” She fisted her hands at her side. “I’d trust him with my life and be glad he was there to help me. But I’m afraid to trust him with Alex’s. There aren’t any gray areas with the major. Everything is either black or white. He sees the necklace as the only way to bring an end to the war. Except I can’t give the major the necklace. If I don’t give it to Roseneau, he’ll kill Alex.”

  “Then we’ll have to get Alex without the necklace.”

  “But how?”

  Barnaby sat down with her and held her close. “I don’t know. But don’t worry. You and Alex are the only family I have left. I’m not about to lose either one of you.”

  Claire let Barnaby hold her for a while, then pulled away and looked at him. “Barn, tell me something. And please, no lies. What was the connection between you and Hunt? Are you spying for the government, too?”

  Claire watched Barn mask his expression. “Are you?” she asked again.

  A sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he rose to his feet. “I’m not nearly as good as Hunt was.”

  An icy coldness washed
over her. “But you do the same work? Risk your life to steal jewels and papers and information?”

  Barnaby halted with his feet braced wide and his hands locked behind his back. “I’m a second son, Claire. Not the heir like Alex. I don’t have his responsibilities. And I’ve always had a penchant for the military. It was Father who refused to buy me a commission. You know what an expert he was at manipulation, how little he cared what any of us really wanted. He didn’t want to risk something happening to me until Alex had provided him with an heir.”

  He turned to stare up at the stars. “I think Hunt sensed what I really wanted. A few years ago he asked me if I’d be interested in helping him obtain some ‘private’ information. I jumped at the opportunity, even though I didn’t realize at the time that I was gathering covert information for the government.”

  Barn turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. “He was phenomenal, Claire. He could ferret out information without anyone even realizing he was interested in what they were saying. He could walk through a room and when he left he knew more gossip and intelligence than anyone who’d been there all evening.”

  “And you were his pupil?”

  Barnaby laughed. “He was my tutor. I tried to learn everything I could from him.”

  “What about Major Bennett?”

  Barnaby’s smile faded. “He’s good. Maybe even better than Hunt, but in a different way.”

  “How?”

  “He’s more dangerous. Hunt was a negotiator, a man with a wealth of finesse. The government sent him in first when they didn’t want to dirty their hands. But, if Hunt’s technique didn’t work, they sent in Bennett. He wasn’t afraid to use force, to go in and clean up a mess without leaving any evidence behind.”

  Barnaby’s words echoed in her head. “You mean he wasn’t afraid to kill.”

  “If he had to,” Barnaby said almost in a whisper.

  Claire remembered how quickly and easily he’d killed Roseneau’s man. A part of her was glad the major was ruthless. It was honest. He was so unlike Hunt, whose ruthlessness consisted of lies.

  “Then why did they need you?”

  “Not long after I started working with Hunt, he told me he wanted out. He said he was tired and there were things in his personal life that needed taking care of.”