He straightened. “Why in the world would she do that? It’s arguably the most valuable item she owns.” Except, possibly, for the mysterious coin.
“Mrs. Allerton told my mother that the contract would guarantee that the recipe stayed in the family.”
The whole thing gave him a headache. Or maybe it was the brandy he had done without for so long. Wasn’t Lydia family enough? “Thank you, Griffin. And do thank your mother. I have no idea how she is able to convince people to confide in her, but I am glad she does.”
“She adds something to their tea,” Griff said with a straight face and then chuckled at Chase’s shocked expression.
“No, no. She is one of those people who listen, and people do always want to talk about themselves. She once had a woman confess to an affair with Prinny.”
“Yes, well, those stories abound.”
“Not here in Birmingham. Mother was shocked and still will not tell me who it was.”
They talked on about scandals of Seasons past, and by the time he was in his carriage headed back to his town house, Chase wished he had not consumed quite so much brandy.
Griffin had just told him that Lydia Chernov was too honest. How interesting. He was almost positive she had been less than honest with him. Gambling, years of serious gambling, had taught him what to look for. For all her honesty in business, Chase was sure that there was something in her personal life she was hiding from him. When would she trust him enough to tell him?
NINE
“Chase, I’m not sure meeting Grandmama is a good idea. Let me talk to her alone.” Lydia began to reach for the coin around her neck and then stayed her hand, dropping it back to her waist.
“Lydia, take me upstairs. I expect she is as curious about me as I am about her.”
“Yes,” Lydia said with an anxious sigh. “She has been nagging me endlessly.”
“Are you afraid she will not like me or she will like me too well, before you’ve decided what you think?”
“I don’t know. Both, I suppose.”
“That’s what your hesitation is about? You do not want to be pressured into a decision?” He took her face in his hands and kissed her, letting his hands slide to her neck and then her shoulders as he pulled her to him. When they broke apart, each gasping for breath, he smiled. “I think you have decided. Or else I have misjudged you and you’re not nearly as virtuous as I believe.”
Lydia’s face drained of color. Didn’t she know he was teasing? Or was she the sort that did not take teasing well? Chase began to walk toward the stairs. “Take me up to her, my dear. I cannot stand a moment more of the suspense.”
With an annoyed huff, she punched his arm lightly and went ahead of him. So as not to crowd her, he left a few steps between them, which gave him a delightful view of her swaying hips.
The flat that Lydia called home was small and tidy, just as he expected. One table was piled with fabric samples in no apparent order, but that was the only sign of disarray in the main room. There were two—no, three—doors off the main room, and one of the doors was ajar. No sooner had Lydia closed the door behind them than someone called out to her.
“Lydia!” The voice was strong but tinged with age and impatience. “Who do you have with you?”
“A friend, Babushka. When you are ready for a caller, have Delphie bring you out.”
Chase could hear the woman berating the serving girl. Lydia turned to him and shrugged her apology. Going over to a cabinet, she pulled out a bottle, vodka he assumed, and three glasses. Vodka before sunset? Is that how Russians dealt with difficult conversations?
“We are at the table, Grandmama,” Lydia said as a very old, very frail woman came out of the bedroom, using a cane to feel in front of her rather than for support.
“A friend? You said this man is a friend. Is this the gentleman that you have been seeing?”
“This is Lord Chase. He is related to the Duke of Bournemouth. He is the gentleman who rescued me from the abduction.”
“Exactly, and he has been here almost every day since. It’s about time you brought him to see me.”
“Yes, Grandmama,” Lydia said.
“Do not use that long-suffering tone with me, Lydia. Someone must look out for your best interests if your own family will not. Where is my vodka?”
“Right here, dearest.” Lydia led her to a chair and helped her make a comfortable seat.
A few minutes passed in conventional conversation. When the topics of weather, fashion, and the health of the king had been dispensed with, Lydia filled the silence with the first pressing question. “Grandmama, before he left on his last trip, Alexei gave me a coin that he asked me to wear and regard as my greatest treasure.”
Grandmama straightened her already straight spine and spoke in Russian, paused, and then reverted to English. “Alexei gave you the coin. Thank God! I thought he drowned with it.”
“You know about the coin?” Lydia touched the necklace and hurried on as if after all this time a few more minutes mattered. “Grandmama, why would he call it my greatest treasure?”
And who else would know, and why would they try to steal it? Chase thought.
“Because it is a magic coin.” Lydia’s Grandmama sat forward, her rheumy eyes still managing to convey her excitement.
“Magic?” Lydia asked as though the old lady had misspoken.
“Yes, the coin grants a wish, one wish, to whoever is holding it at the time.” She turned her head as if looking from one to the other. Following the sound of their voices, Chase surmised.
“How do you know it grants the wish?” Chase asked. The story was preposterous. Maybe the old woman just craved attention.
“How else would you explain how Lydia came into our lives and we were able to escape Russia only a little ahead of Napoleon’s invasion?”
“You wished for it, Grandmama?”
“Yes, this is exactly what I said: ‘I wish that my family and I could escape the tragedy that is about to befall our country.’ Not one week later, Alexei brought you home to us and announced that your father would give us the papers we needed to ensure our safe travel. What was that if not magic?”
“But Alexei and I had known each other for months before I met you that evening.”
The old lady waved that away. “He had no idea your father worked at the British embassy when he met you at the shop. You know as well as I do that you were the means by which we escaped.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, Grandmama, but it was my father who gave you the papers.”
“Yes, that was the beginning, but you were the one who dealt with all those hideous border guards when Alexei had to stay behind. You were the one who suggested that Irina dress as a boy to save her virtue. You were the one who faced death or worse that night we were trapped in that German village. You were the one who found passage for us, and you were the one who knew that Birmingham was the best place for us to settle once Alexei had joined us.”
Lydia closed her eyes, looking for all the world as if she wanted to be invisible. Finally she gave up the pretense. “Anyone would have done that for the people they loved, Grandmama.”
“No, they would not. You know that for the truth, my lord, do you not? You know how special our Lydia is.”
“Yes, I do, and you are right. I have never met anyone quite like Lydia.” It was not magic, but the short story of their escape further proved how loyal Lydia was.
“Exactly so,” Grandmama said and went on. “I gave the coin to Alexei right after we arrived in England. I have no idea what he wished for, but he must have wished for something before he gave the coin to you. What I don’t understand is why he didn’t tell you it was magic.”
“I can guess that Alexei thought he had years and years and years to influence what I wished for.”
“Or he thought that there was nothing magic about the coin.” Chase did not want to sound like a practical Englishman, but that made the most sense to him.
“
Then why would he tell me it was my most treasured possession?” Lydia asked.
No one said anything for a minute, but Chase had a feeling the two women were communicating all the same. On Alexei’s failings or what he might have wished for? Or how to prove to him that the coin was magic?
Chase straightened so quickly that the two women were startled. He was an instant convert to the power of the magic coin. “You used your wish, Lydia!”
“I did?”
“Yes, yes, the second time I confronted Nesbitt. He broke my arm. I know he did. And I remember you holding on to your necklace, as you do when you are upset, and then wishing—you used the word wish—that I had not broken my arm.”
“Was there a bright light and a sense of heat?” Grandmama asked.
Chase and Lydia looked at each other and nodded. Chase thought it was the kiss that had generated that sensation. Was it the coin?
“Yes, Grandmama, there was. We were distracted at the moment but, yes, there was both light and heat.”
“Distracted?” she queried, slowly raising her eyebrows. “Indeed.”
Lydia glanced at Chase, who was looking at the ceiling.
“Well, now we know why someone wants the necklace.” Chase spoke into the silence.
To Lydia’s relief, Grandmama allowed the change of subject.
“But we do not know who wants it,” Lydia said. And then added, “Do we?”
“According to Nesbitt, someone with an accent.”
“I have no idea who Nesbitt is.” Grandmama’s annoyance at being left out was obvious. “But I suspect the villain is Irina.”
“Irina!” Lydia stood up. “But how did she know anything about it? Did you tell her?” Lydia answered her own questions. “Of course not.” She walked around the room, wishing she understood people better. “Alexei must have told her about it. Nesbitt referred to it as the necklace that is my ‘greatest treasure,’ which is exactly how Alexei described it.”
Lydia stopped her pacing and looked at Chase. “But why would she not just ask me for it? Surely there is magic enough to share.”
Grandmama answered without pause. “Because Irina is a selfish witch who cannot imagine anyone as generous as you are. It is not enough for her to inherit the purple dye when I go to God. If there is more money to be had, she wants it. Money is the reason she married Mr. Allerton. Not affection for anything but the riches he could shower on her. But I am telling you, Lydia, this coin has no value outside of its magic. You can be sure that Alexei investigated that thoroughly.”
“Yes, Grandmama, he would,” Lydia said, as if this was a story with which she was all too familiar. She nodded her head, her resolve clearly firm. “I am going to call on Irina right now and see if we can come to some agreement.”
The old lady raised her hands in disgust. “You would give everything away if I did not restrain you.”
Lydia leaned down to kiss her on both cheeks. “Yes, Babushka, you are completely right. I am lucky to have you help me be sensible. But in this I am firm. I will go to her and give her the coin.” Then another thought occurred to her and she turned to Chase. “Unless, my lord, you would like to make a wish first.”
“Thank you, Lydia, but I already have.”
“You did?”
“Like you, it was an accident, but it was what I would have wished for if I had known the coin was magic.” When she still looked blank, he added, “Last night I wished you would appreciate me for the man I am despite the title.”
Oh yes, she thought, she did recall that. “I am so sorry you wasted your wish. I think I already appreciated you as fully as possible.” Indeed, he had already won her heart.
“Oh, lovely,” the old lady said as she clapped her hands together in pleasure.
The two words convinced Chase that he had won Grandmama’s approval. Lydia might have been hesitant to introduce them, but he now saw that it was an essential step to gaining her trust.
With another kiss of farewell, Lydia gathered her bonnet and gloves, inviting Chase to accompany her to see Mrs. Allerton. As if she had a choice.
His carriage waited outside the shop, and she allowed him to help her inside and then gave the direction to the driver.
They settled back and Lydia stared out the window. He watched her profile. There was a loneliness about her that made him sad for her. “Are you thinking about your husband?”
“I was thinking that it was time to tell you the truth.”
“Thank you, Lydia. I must admit that the conversation with Mrs. Chernov roused as many questions as it answered.”
“What is the first that comes to mind?” She faced him with a slight smile, as if the first question he would ask was a test.
“Your father helped the Chernovs leave Russia. Where is he now?”
“He died three weeks before we left St. Petersburg. I had no plans to leave with the Chernovs, but when Papa died there was no reason for me to stay, no means of support, no family to turn to. With Napoleon so near, the embassy was in chaos, so when Alexei suggested I accompany them as his wife, I accepted.”
He listened to the way she phrased that last sentence and wondered, but went in another direction instead. “Your father worked for the embassy?”
“Yes, he did. I spent most of my life in St. Petersburg.” She closed her eyes and he watched defeat overtake her. “My grandfather was an earl. My father was young and easily influenced when my mother convinced him to run away with her to Gretna Green. My grandfather disowned him, but when Grandfather died, the new earl, my father’s brother, found a place for my father with the embassy in Russia. If he promised never to come back to England.”
Lydia is the legitimate relation of an earl and, in fact, better born than I am. “So your family does not even know that you exist?”
“I do not know or care.”
They were about to turn off the road when Lydia grabbed his stick and knocked on the roof. The carriage rolled to a stop.
Lydia spoke in a rush. “I am not finished.”
“All right,” he said, wise enough to wait while she put together her thoughts.
“After he died, Alexei used to come to me in my dreams and at other times when I was almost asleep and say one word. ‘Wish.’ I never understood what he meant. And now of course I do.” She looked at him, fear in her eyes. “Do you think I am going mad?”
“Absolutely not. Now, if you told me that Alexei was sitting beside us, then I might speak differently. But we can no more control the dreams that come to us when we are asleep or halfwaking than we can control who will hold a winning hand.”
Lydia laid her head on his shoulder, and he knew she was either very upset or very reassured. He knocked on the roof, and the carriage began moving again.
“One last thing, Lord Chase.”
“I already know,” he said, taking her hand in a gesture he hoped she read as comfort. “You did not inherit the recipe for the purple dye because you were never married to Alexei Chernov.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she looked down at his gloved hand over hers, the slightest nod confirming his statement.
They had reached their destination, and before Lydia could say anything else, the damned servant had the door opened and the stairs lowered.
Lydia brushed the tears off her cheeks. “If we hope to have the truth from Irina, I think it is best if I talk to her alone.”
“All right,” he said grudgingly. “I will wait here, but you must send a footman for me if there is any trouble.”
“I am going to give her exactly what she wants. What kind of trouble could there be?”
It took forever for the servants to find Mrs. Allerton, and then the footman led Lydia to the garden where a small tributary of the river flowed under a too-picturesque bridge that Mr. Allerton had added recently. The water was running fast after the last week of incessant rain, and was brown, muddy, and wholly unappealing.
Irina was sitting on a bench built into the center of the railing ov
erlooking the stream, lost in thought. She stood when Lydia’s footsteps sounded on the wooden bridge.
“How are you, Irina?” Lydia asked cautiously. It was unlike Irina to be less than formal, to receive her outside without the offer of tea.
“I am well. It is such a lovely day that I thought we could both use some fresh air.”
Lydia nodded and they sat. Now that she was here, Lydia was not at all sure how to start. She did not want to accuse Irina of wrongdoing. There was enough tension in the family without adding Nesbitt to the picture, especially since there was no real proof that Irina had been the one to hire him.
Hadn’t Nesbitt said it was a man? Yes, but perhaps it was a woman disguised as a man. Irina had traveled from Russia dressed as a boy. It was an affectation she had perfected.
Whether Irina had been part of the subterfuge didn’t matter. The coin with its one magic wish was hers now.
Lydia pulled the chain out from underneath her chemise and let the coin lie on her dress. “Alexei gave me this just before he left on his last trip.”
Irina jumped up from her seat and looked at Lydia with poisonous eyes. “It does not belong to you, you imposter. You are not Alexei’s wife. You are no more than his kept woman who has taken all she could from the Chernovs, even now when Alexei is dead.”
Lydia stood up, too, wishing she had let Chase accompany her. “Irina, please. Just listen to me a moment.”
Irina grabbed the necklace and jerked as hard as she could; the necklace was fragile and gold, so it broke without much pressure. Still, Lydia cried out and tried to grab it back.
“Alexei told me it would be the family’s most treasured possession.” She examined the coin, confusion replacing triumph. “It doesn’t look very valuable to me. What kind of coin is it?”
“It’s a magic coin, Irina. Listen to me. You are allowed one wish on it. Just one.”
“You are the worst liar in the world. Do you think I am going to make my wish and hand it back to you? It has some value, I’m sure of it.”
Chase came running around the side of the house, his stick in hand, the sword still sheathed, but his hand at the ready.
The Unquiet Page 17