“De Motibus, my lord. Someone spent hours, nay, days, creating this.”
“In your considered opinion, are they genuine?” Rivett asked.
She put down the book. “I am sorry to say that this one is not.”
“Well, now, that’s a disappointment. What about the others? Have a look at Terra Cotta. That’s the one his lordship is interested in, and if you ask me, it’s the prettiest of the four.”
Daunt sighed and picked up De Motibus. He paged through it, taking care not to bend pages. “As forgeries go, this is quite good.”
“We do not know that it is a forgery, per se.”
“Point taken.”
Magdalene looked at the next one. De Scientia Naturae Rerum was another meticulous copy. The content was not immediately recognizable to her as some other text, and the subject matter did address the natural world, though she still did not doubt this was a historical text presented as if it were a Duke. “If he’d used vellum, I think this one might have fooled many an experienced collector.” She took the next book from the stack and opened it. “De Medicine Arcana.”
She opened to a page of meticulous italic script. The drawings and illuminations were equally deft. The colors were a bit too bright, and the paper was, well, paper, rather than vellum, but someone had worked quite hard at achieving the correct color. “The work here is really lovely. I wish I knew who did this.”
Daunt withdrew two notes from his wallet and put them on the table with his forefingers holding them firmly down. “Twenty pounds for the four of them, taken permanently out of circulation.”
Magdalene looked at the door, and again, there was another shift in light. This time, she was convinced there was someone on the other side of that door.
Meanwhile, Mr. Rivett eyed the bills. He took the near ends between thumb and forefinger. “I won’t say as I’m not disappointed, milord, but twenty pounds in my pockets that weren’t there this morning is a fine thing.” Daunt lifted his hand, and Rivett took the money. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
“If ever you come across a book you think would interest me, please contact me. It’s been a pleasure.”
Rivett bowed once. “I’ll do that.”
When Rivett was gone, Magdalene put a finger across her lips and walked to one side of the door. She pointed at the door and then at Daunt and mimed opening it. “My lord. He believed us when we said his books were not genuine.”
Daunt held her gaze and said, “My darling Magdalene, you were impressively clever. He’ll never know the truth.”
Her heart turned over in a most peculiar fashion. The endearment, the way he looked at her, his trust in her broke through the wall she had put around her heart. Before she could begin to understand what that meant for her, he opened the door in one smooth motion.
“Oh!” A woman tumbled to the floor with a thump. She had blond hair and, if that weren’t enough, she recognized her perfume.
“Mrs. Taylor?” Magdalene closed the door firmly, while Daunt extended a hand to the woman and helped her to her feet. He maintained a firm grip on her arm. With her free hand, Mrs. Taylor brushed off her skirt. Her lower right arm was bandaged, and there was a small spot of red blooming on the linen wrap.
“Identify yourself,” Daunt said.
“That is Mrs. Taylor, my lord.”
He studied the woman and shook his head. “I’ve never seen you before in my life. Again, I say, identify yourself.”
“Why should I tell you anything?” She attempted to free her arm of Daunt’s grip. “You’re hurting me.”
“To avoid jail?” he said.
Mrs. Taylor, or whoever she was, blanched.
“Would you mind telling us what happened to your arm?” Magdalene said.
“Nothing.”
“Madam, it behooves you to be forthcoming with us. Accession Day is concluded. Had you been admitted via the front door as would any other caller, you would have been announced. Therefore, I must conclude that you are not here by permission. The authorities frown on trespassers and sneak thieves.”
Mrs. Taylor pressed her lips firmly together.
“The Chinese dragon,” Magdalene said.
Mrs. Taylor said, “What do you know about that?”
“Enough to infer more than a few things. When my husband examined De Terris Fabulosis, he translated one passage, a text describing an exquisite Chinese dragon carved from jade and guarded, it was said, by two real fire-breathing dragons. He did not, as I suspect you know, have the opportunity to translate the portion that described where one might find the dragon.”
Daunt lifted his eyebrows.
“It is the best of the alternate explanations for her interest in De Terris Fabulosis,” Magdalene said in a gentle voice. “She is no bibliophile at all. She collects artifacts from China.” She returned to the last of Mr. Rivett’s Dukes. “Am I correct, Mrs. Taylor?”
“You’re mad, both of you. I was here for your celebration, I admit that. I meant to leave, but I became lost.”
Daunt leaned over her and said, “What is your connection to the late Lord Verney?”
She pressed her lips together again, then burst out with, “He stole from my father. Papa collected items from China, but he soon became enamored of genuine Chinese items. From the very earliest age, I assisted him. He’d read Mr. Carter’s translation, and he wanted to find that jade dragon too. He prepared to travel to China.”
“On the basis of a book written nearly four hundred years ago?” Daunt said.
“He was obsessed. To finance the trip, he arranged to sell some of his collection to Lord Verney. His lordship took the pieces and then refused to pay. In fact, he denied he’d ever seen them. Six months later, Papa was dead of a broken heart.”
“What were those items?” Daunt asked. “If you could describe them in particular, that would be most helpful.”
“A pair of vases painted with dragons. About this high.” She indicated with her hands as best she could, given that Daunt still restrained her. “They are green. There are two dragons painted on each vase. The third is a jade dragon. About the size of your hand. The tail curls up and over its head, and there is smoke coming from its nostrils. One clawed foot is lifted.”
Daunt took a step back and released Mrs. Taylor’s arm. Magdalene nodded, for she knew exactly what he was thinking, and she agreed, wholeheartedly. “Mrs. Taylor,” he said. “I cannot condone your actions here. You have been foolish and foolhardy. Magdalene, would you call for Gomes, please?”
She did so, and when the servant arrived, Daunt gave the necessary instructions. They waited in silence for Gomes to return with the carefully packed crate. Gomes glared at Mrs. Taylor when he put down the crate then withdrew in an equally stony silence.
Mrs. Taylor burst into tears when Daunt opened the crate and took out the first of the two vases. “Oh, oh, Papa.”
He placed the other beside it and then withdrew the jade dragon. Her tears continued. Without comment, he handed Mrs. Taylor his handkerchief.
Once her tears abated, she approached the table slowly. “May I?”
“You may,” Daunt said.
She picked up the dragon. “I thought I’d never see them again.”
“You may have them, on one condition.”
“What?”
“That you swear on your father’s honor and your immortal soul that you shall never again attempt to deceive anyone nor steal from them.”
She hugged the dragon to her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“Do you so promise?”
“I do. I do, my lord.”
Magdalene herself was close to tears. The gesture was everything that was superior about Daunt.
Mrs. Taylor turned her tearful face to her and said, “I am sorry for deceiving you. I apologize to you for that. My lord, I judged you as no better than Lord Verney. I was wrong, and I apologize.”
“But why,” Magdalene asked, “did you want De Terris Fabulosis? Su
rely you do not intend to travel to China yourself?”
She wiped her eyes. “Lord Verney bragged to my father that he knew the location of the jade dragon. How could he have known that unless he had the book himself or Mr. Carter had shown it to him? When I learned that Lord Daunt had acquired Lord Verney’s library, I thought it was my only chance. I hoped that if I found that benighted book, I might also find the items he stole from my father.”
“You may go, Mrs. Taylor,” Daunt said. “And please do not be offended if I tell you I hope never to see you again.”
“None taken,” she said, still tearful.
When Mrs. Taylor was gone with the crate and its carefully packed items, Magdalene walked to the table. “What an absolutely extraordinary day.”
“Indeed, my love.” He picked up De Motibus and opened it. “I wonder if we have the necessary ingredients for a love potion.”
“I should like to see a real dragon. I wonder if Fabulosis gives a location for the dragon that we could find today.”
“There is but one way to find out,” Daunt said with a nod at the remaining volumes.
“Would you travel all the way to China?” she asked.
“For a book, yes. For any other treasure, unlikely.”
She picked up the last Duke. De Terris Fabulosis was different enough from the others that her pulse skipped a beat. Like the others, the binding was leather, but were those smudges at the top of the pages remnants of red fabric? With her heart beating hard, she opened the book. The pages were vellum, not paper. The pigments of the illustrations were gorgeous and precisely the hue and saturation one expected. Some pages glittered with silver and gilt. “My lord.”
“Have you found the passage Angus translated?” he asked.
Magdalene held the book tightly against her chest. “Daunt.” She could scarcely speak. “I am shaking again.”
“What is it?”
“Daunt, this one is genuine.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Fabulosis is a genuine Duke.”
Chapter Seventeen
‡
Magdalene watched Daunt examine De Terris Fabulosis. Carefully, he turned pages to expose a map of the world as it was known in the time of de’ Medici. “Exquisite,” he whispered.
“See here?” she said. “Remnants of the original binding.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Daunt, I’m still shaking,” she said.
He turned more pages, with her looking over his shoulder. As with the other two they’d found hidden in the vases, the writing was meticulous, the illustrations beautiful and colorful. “Directions for finding El Dorado.” He turned more pages. “An illustration of the Fountain of Youth. The island of Amazons.”
“It’s beautiful, but Daunt, we have sent Mr. Rivett away.”
Gently, he closed Fabulosis. He knew exactly what she was getting at, she knew that immediately. “Twenty pounds is by no means fair compensation for a treasure such as this.”
“No, sir. It is not.”
“I’ll have my secretary send him a suitable sum.”
“It’s only fair.” Tears burned in her eyes.
“Consider it done. What is it?” he asked. “What’s made you so sad?”
“De Terris Fabulosis was in Italy all this time.”
He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her close. “Indeed it was.”
“Oh, Daunt.” She clung to him.
“Vindication is sweet, my love. I, for one, look forward to announcing how and where we located it. Don’t cry. Please do not cry.”
“I am not crying.”
He used the side of his finger to wipe away her tears. “Of course not.” Slowly, he closed the cover of Fabulosis. “I wish Angus had lived to see this day.”
She pressed against him, trembling inside. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He patted her back, and she melted against him. “If not for your efforts,” he said, “we might not have even one Duke, let alone three.”
“We would have this one. Mr. Rivett said several people told him you were looking for Fabulosis. You have been looking for the book for years.”
“I thought the more who knew, the better the chance the volume might come to light.”
“All this time, you too were attempting to clear Angus’s name.”
“But of course.”
She gripped the lapels of his coat. “Professor Peebles’s retirement is fast approaching. How soon must you leave for London?”
“Today,” he said.
“Professor Peebles will be so pleased.” She did not want him to leave her, but she had no choice in that. “Give him my regards, won’t you? Then come back and tell me everything. What he said when he saw them. His expression. Everything.”
“I shall.” He ran a hand along the edges of the binding. “Three Dukes,” he said. “And they are spectacular.”
“Kiss me again, Daunt. One more time.”
His smile broadened. “Of course, my darling.”
He did exactly that, and this kiss was less tender and a bit rougher, more an expression of his need this time. She threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately.
Their kiss rocked her to her soul. Daunt had broken her open and changed her forever. He’d pulled her from despair and shown her how to live again, how to love again.
“With you,” he said when they parted, “it’s always my first kiss.”
“For me, as well.”
“My heart pounds every time you’re in my arms. It’s a wonder you put up with such boyish ways from me.”
She was transformed. No potion, no seduction had wrought this change in her. “Oh, Daunt, what have you done to me?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Kissed you witless?”
“Is there a love potion in De Motibus?”
“There is.”
“And have we the required ingredients?”
He laughed. “What if we did?”
She pressed a hand to her heart. “If we do, would you consider taking it?”
He shook his head, then slowly, his amusement faded. “Say that again.”
“Would you take the potion?”
“Why, Magdalene?”
She sat on the nearest chair in a boneless heap. “You said you were in love with someone else. I knew your heart was not available, and now—” She made a helpless gesture. “I apologize. I should never have asked.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said. “I would not drink the potion.”
“No. No, of course not. It’s just …”
“Just?”
“I’ve fallen in love with you.” She took a steadying breath. “I know you are in love with someone. Please. Do not let this come between us.”
“For such an intelligent woman, you have come to a remarkably wrong conclusion.” He brought her to her feet and took her head between his hands. “You are the woman I love. I have loved you for years. For years. I’ve waited for you, lived in fear you’d love someone else and—”
She could hardly get her mind around the idea, but there it was, growing in her. “You love me?”
“I have been saying as much since I came here. Magdalene, I love you madly. I admire you. I respect you. I adore you. You are the only woman I want by my side.”
Her eyes opened wide, and she let out a laugh. “Oh my heavens, Daunt.” She threw her arms around him. “Daunt, say that again.”
“I love you. We do not need any potion, my love, for I already adore you.”
“Again, say that again.”
“I love you with all my heart and soul.” He lightly gripped her upper arms. “I’ll love Ned too. I’ll be the best possible father to him.”
She pressed her hands to his chest. “I’ll love your son too. Never fear that.”
“When I am done in London, and Peebles has been presented with our Dukes, I’ll call on your father. I’m quite sure His Grace will want settlements t
o properly protect you.”
“Yes, yes, yes, Daunt.”
“As soon as we may, for I tell you, I am looking forward to a lifetime of first kisses.”
“You shall have them, my love,” she said, her heart overflowing. “As many as you want.”
About Carolyn Jewel
Carolyn Jewel was born on a moonless night. That darkness was seared into her soul and she became an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of historical and paranormal romance. She has a very dusty car and a Master’s degree in English that proves useful at the oddest times. An avid fan of fine chocolate, finer heroines, Bollywood films, and heroism in all forms, she has two cats and two dogs. Also a son. One of the cats is his.
Visit Carolyn on the web at:
carolynjewel.com | twitter | facebook | goodreads
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Books by Carolyn Jewel
HISTORICAL ROMANCE SERIES
Sinclair Sisters Series
Lord Ruin, Book 1
A Notorious Ruin, Book 2
Surrender To Ruin, Book 3
Reforming the Scoundrels Series
Not Wicked Enough, Book 1
Not Proper Enough, Book 2
Other Historical Romance
How To Find a Duke in Ten Days
Dancing in The Duke’s Arms
An Unsuitable Duchess, from Dancing in The Duke’s Arms Anthology
In The Duke’s Arms, from Christmas in The Duke’s Arms Anthology
Christmas in The Duke’s Arms
One Starlit Night, novella from Midnight Scandals Anthology
Midnight Scandals, Anthology
Scandal
Indiscreet
Moonlight, A Regency-set short(ish) story
The Spare
Stolen Love
Passion’s Song
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
My Immortals Series
My Wicked Enemy, Book 1
My Forbidden Desire, Book 2
My Immortal Assassin, Book 3
How to Find a Duke in Ten Days Page 32
