Jumping in Puddles

by Barbara Elsborg

  “There’s nothing there,” Jago said.

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Ooh, invisible. How useful.”

  “It’s under the stone, I’d guess,” she said quietly.

  “What?”

  “Treasure. Jewels.” My broken heart. “It’s called the Kewen.”

  Jago hooked the crowbar under the edge of the slab and tried to lift it. That wasn’t going to work. Ellie used a burst of her energy to raise the stone until it leaned against the side of the hole. She sat back breathing heavily. Her vision wavered, and she dug her nails into her palms. Jago didn’t seem to notice how easily the stone had lifted, or her distress. Ellie had little choice but to let this play out.

  “Well, guess what,” he muttered.

  He reached into the hole and ran his hand over a rusty box. Brown flakes came away under his touch, and he brushed them off his fingers.

  “It’s falling to pieces. How did you know this was here?” He lifted his head to look at her.

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “You really wouldn’t,” she said.

  “Try me,” he snapped.

  Ellie flinched. “The ring you sold is part of what lies in that box. You were right; I followed the trail here.”

  “All that crap about business development, and you were looking for this.”

  The venom in his voice ate into her like acid.

  “You searched the house and the garden. That’s why you sorted out my room. You arranged this open day as a distraction. I can’t believe I fell…I—oh Christ. You bitch.”

  Ellie shuddered. No one had ever called her that before, and it hurt coming from someone who meant so much to her. But what was the point protesting? He wouldn’t believe the truth, and in a way he was right.

  He thrust his arm back into the hole and broke through the brittle metal with his fist. When he pulled his hand out, he held a dark bag. The drawstring disintegrated as he tugged at it, and out cascaded precious stones of every color along with exquisite rings, bracelets, and necklaces. Ellie sucked in a breath. Drawings of every piece were in the book, but to see them in reality stunned her.

  “Good grief.” Jago picked up a diamond the size of a quail’s egg. “This can’t be real.”

  “It is.” She took a deep breath. “But the Kewen doesn’t belong to you.”

  He gaped at her. “You think it belongs to you?”

  Ellie shook her head. “It was stolen a long while ago, and my ancestors were accused of the theft. My family has been looking for this ever since.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Three hundred years.”

  Jago gave a cold laugh. “You expect me to believe that?”

  If he wouldn’t believe that, then he certainly wouldn’t believe the rest.

  Ellie watched his face as he stared at the treasure. She knew what he was thinking. A renovated Sharwood lay there on the floor. All his problems solved. He could restore the house, put everything back on show, and open the building and gardens to the paying public. He’d employ staff, return to work as a doctor, and have his life back. She wanted that for him, maybe as much as he wanted it for himself, which meant she had to walk away with nothing. Worse than nothing, because her family would never forgive her. She felt as if she was dying.

  “Jago, you might not want to listen to anything else I say to you, but you must listen to this. You need to sell these jewels as quickly as you can. Split them up and spread them through different auction houses. Don’t keep any single piece. You need to act straightaway. Leave for London tonight. Speak to the dealers in Hatton Garden first thing on Monday. Any of them will buy these pieces. They’ll fight over the stones. There’s at least…twenty million pounds in front of you.”

  He gaped at her. “What?”

  “At least.”

  “Why do I need to do it quickly?”

  “Because none of this belongs to you. Others are coming for it, and they won’t leave empty-handed no matter what it takes.”

  JAGO PICKED UP the bag, his heart a lead weight in his chest, and as he started to put the jewels back, his fingers snagged on something. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper and opened it carefully. The writing was old-fashioned, and he couldn’t make out all the words, but it looked like a bill of sale. He sighed. This would prove the jewels belonged here, belonged to him.

  He didn’t try to read the wordy paragraph at the top but ran his gaze down the list of items. It appeared to detail everything in the bag. At the bottom of the document were two signatures. One was indecipherable. Something the fifth. The other signature was Rupert’s, the sixth earl, the black sheep, the one whose children had gone missing and who’d killed himself. He didn’t read anymore. This was proof his family had a legitimate claim to the jewels. Oh Christ, this is the answer to everything.

  “You—” He broke off when he realized Ellie had gone. On the floor where she’d been sitting lay the rose-gold ring.

  Jago scooped it up, his heart thumping. Why had she left a ring she’d paid five thousand pounds for? He scanned the paper again and found the ring mentioned halfway down. How had the ring gotten out of this hole? The iron box hadn’t been touched for centuries. Had the ring never been in there?

  He put everything back inside the bag and then dropped the lower stone into place, though he had to leave off the hearthstone. It was too heavy to shift. He locked the door on the way out, went to his room, and slumped on the bed. The jewels were the answer to his prayers, so why was he so miserable?

  The sudden loud knock made him jump. Jago looked at the bag lying next to him and shoved it under the pillow.

  “Jago, it’s me.”

  Henry. He sighed with relief. “Come in.”

  He waited until Henry had closed the door before he retrieved the bag and tipped out the contents.

  “Bloody hell.” Henry dropped to sit opposite.

  “It was under the lower stone in a disintegrating iron box.”

  Henry picked up the big diamond and then a ruby. “Are these real?”

  “Apparently. Worth millions.”

  Henry dropped the stones and grabbed the ring. “Where the hell did this come from? You sold it at auction. What’s it doing here?”

  “Ellie bought it.”

  Henry gasped. “What?”

  “She told me this jewelry, the Kewen, was stolen centuries ago, and her family was blamed. Ever since then they’ve been looking for items to turn up, and she must have spotted the ring in the auction. She found out who sold it and followed it here. All she’s been doing since she arrived is look for this.” Jago’s heart clenched at the memory of how she’d laughed with him, pretended to like him, let him take her fucking virginity. Shit.

  “Hey.” Henry reached to unclench Jago’s fingers from around one of the stones.

  Blood bloomed in his palm. He let the diamond go and licked the cut on his hand.

  “It was stolen?” Henry asked.

  Jago thrust the paper at him. “No.”

  Henry frowned as he read. “What the hell is this?”

  “A bill of sale between my great-great-etc-Uncle Rupert and someone whose signature I can’t make out.”

  “What did Ellie say about all this?”

  Jago couldn’t hear her name without tensing. “That I was to split it up and sell it fast, that she wasn’t the only one looking for it. Others were coming. I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I don’t like the sound of any of this. Did you read this properly?”

  He shook his head.

  “I can’t make out every word, but Rupert didn’t buy the jewels exactly. He sold something, and they were given in payment.”

  Jago moved to sit next to him. “What did he sell?”

  “According to this…” Henry sighed. “He sold his children.”

  “What the fuck?” Jago ran his gaze over the top paragraph. “Apart from the fact that it’s a disgusting t
hing to do, who’d pay this amount for three children? And wasn’t it two children who went missing?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t just his children he sold.”

  “I don’t get it. In those days, a pedophile could have picked homeless kids up off the streets of London, and nobody would have missed them. Even if Rupert did sell his kids, why didn’t he use the jewels to pay his debts? The family records show he had massive ones. It doesn’t make sense he’d leave the treasure hidden in the baron’s hall and kill himself. And what was this ring doing away from the rest?”

  “Maybe Rupert’s wife discovered what he’d done and told him to get the children back. She might have killed him, not knowing where he’d hidden this treasure, and then gone mad. Have you seen what it says at the bottom, the name alongside Rupert’s?”

  “I can’t read it.” Jago stared hard and then laughed. “Oberon the fifth, King of the Faeries? Bloody hell.”

  Henry raised his eyebrows. “Someone who didn’t want to be traced, clearly.”

  “I might have fantasized about finding treasure, but I never thought I actually would. There are no family legends suggesting anything was hidden.”

  “There wouldn’t be if this is true. Rupert was hardly going to brag about selling his children. I don’t expect we’ll ever know the truth, but looks like the jewels are yours, no matter how distasteful the trade.”

  Jago held up the rose-gold ring. “What about this?”

  “Ah, well, I know I told you I found it, but it’s been in my family for…a long while.”

  Jago gaped at him. “How did your family end up with an item of jewelry from this list? You think it…might have been payment for the other kid?”

  Henry puffed out a breath. “I’ve never heard of a missing child. I have some family-tree details in the attic. I could check, but that’s not important now. You’ve a lot of money sitting in front of you.”

  Jago sagged. “From trading children.”

  “You can’t afford to be picky about how the jewels were obtained. It wasn’t you who made the deal.”

  “I wonder what happened to the children. If they survived, their ancestors have a better claim on this house than I do.”

  “Better not let the TV company get wind of this. There’ll be all sorts of crazy people crawling out of the woodwork. What are you going to do?”

  “Sell everything. But not the ring. Ellie bought it. She should have it back.” He spat out the last words. “You shouldn’t have given it to me, Henry. I feel bad you let me sell a family piece. Maybe I should buy it back off her for you.”

  “Talking of Ellie…where is she, and why do you even have the ring?”

  “She walked out and left it after I confronted her about why she’d come here.” He put his head in his hands and sighed. “You thought she was a thief, and you were right.”

  “What has she taken?”

  “The jewels if she’d had the chance.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Jago glared. “Why the fuck are you defending her?”

  “Because I like her, and something isn’t adding up here. What exactly did she say to you about these jewels?”

  “That her family had been accused of stealing them three hundred years ago, and they’ve been looking for them ever since so they can prove they’re innocent.”

  “How does finding them prove that?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

  “Why would she leave this ring?”

  Jago tried to bring moisture to his dry mouth. “I have no idea. I don’t want to think about her anymore.”

  “She doesn’t have money, Jago. Everything she wears is ordinary. No expensive shoes or jewelry. No car. No laptop. You think she might be telling you something by leaving this?”

  “Such as?”

  “That this was about more than finding something her family were accused of stealing.”

  “She lied to me.”

  “How?”

  “She made me think—”

  “Letting you think is different to lying. Maybe she did come here with an ulterior motive, but look at what she’s achieved. It’s like magic. Today was the nearest I’ve seen in my life to a miracle. Everyone working together, enjoying themselves. Even your lodgers took turns to man the bouncy castle. You have people working on the house for nothing but the cost of materials. You can afford beds and whatever else you need for Denzel’s wedding even if you don’t sell the jewelry. And she…slept with you. Would she have done that if you didn’t mean something to her?”

  Jago chewed the insides of his cheeks. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth.

  Henry shook his head. “Strange, isn’t it? Ellie came here looking for a way to restore her family’s honor. You’re trying to do the same. You’re both acting out of a sense of duty and obligation. And it goes back hundreds of years. You have a lot in common.”

  Jago gave a noncommittal grunt.

  “You’ve been handed the means to put the house right, but er…” Henry coughed. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you something.”

  Jago stared at him, and his heart started to pound.

  “Before Ellie arrived, I intended to suggest you should sell Sharwood to Preston. Times have changed, Jago. This wasn’t a particularly happy home for you. You’ve done more for it than you should have. You put your career on hold, your life on hold. Once this place had you in its clutches, you became trapped, and I…I didn’t want that for you.”

  “I was happy here when I was a boy. That was down to you. You were the— You were there for me whenever I needed you. The crazy thing is that if you’d left after my parents died, I don’t think I’d have even contemplated carrying on. Without your money, I couldn’t have.” He gave a short laugh. “What a pair we are.”

  Henry smiled. “And we’d have still been that odd couple if Ellie hadn’t turned up and made us both smile.”

  The breath caught in Jago’s lungs. “She hurt me.”

  “And did you hurt her too?”

  “She hurt me,” Jago repeated, the pain a fist around his throat.

  ELLIE SANK DOWN into the minstrels’ gallery below the squint, her mind tumbling, her heart sliced apart by what she’d heard. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Jago, but she knew from the moment he’d looked at her as she stood under Henry’s porch, neither of them would emerge from the encounter unscathed.

  Jago and Henry had laughed at the signature on the document, but when she’d heard them say Oberon’s name, her lungs had locked. The king of the faeries was always called Oberon regardless of his given name. The one on the throne now was the seventh. So it had been his grandfather who’d offered the jewels in exchange for three children. If only two were Rupert’s, who was the other? A relation of Henry’s? And if there’d been no theft, why was her family cast out of Faerieland? Why had they been kept out for all this time and made to search for something that had been freely given?

  The answer came quickly. Because no one knew what the king had done.

  Ellie swallowed with difficulty. What would be the result of returning the Kewen to Faerieland? Oberon surely didn’t want it back, because it would expose what his grandfather had done. Ellie might not know much about fae law, but buying human children couldn’t be right. Why did he want them? What had happened to them? Were their ancestors still living?

  And the biggest question—what should she do? Even if she had the Kewen, it seemed she was damned if she gave it back, damned if she didn’t. The advice to Jago to sell and sell fast still stood. Maybe she could convince her father to send a message to Faerieland and tell Oberon the jewels had come up at auction. Her family was only tasked with finding them. They didn’t have to get them back, did they? Ellie chewed her nail. That might have worked if Pixie hadn’t blabbed. If others knew the jewels were here and that she was here, Ellie would have a lot of questions to answer.

  Maybe she could use Pixie to reverse the damage her loose l
ips had caused. If her sister spread the rumor that Ellie had found the jewels and taken them to Whitendale, it would give Jago time to reach London and get rid of them. She sneaked out of the baron’s hall and exited the building. A route around the edge of the garden took her to the gatehouse unseen, and then she called her sister.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Pixie blurted.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got the Kewen. I’m on my way to Whitendale to hand it back.”

  “Dad? Ellie says she’s got the Kewen and is taking it to Whitendale.”

  “No point anyone coming up here,” Ellie said quickly before Pixie handed over the phone. “I’m already miles away from Sharwood. You might as well tell your friends not to bother coming.” She winced at the lie.

  “Ellie?” Her father had, as expected, grabbed the phone. “What’s happening?”

  “On my way to Whitendale with the Kewen. I’m going to have to outrun those Pixie’s blabbed to.”

  “Pixie!” he snapped. “What have you done?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” her sister mumbled in the background.

  “Why are you going to Whitendale?” he asked. “I need to use the slate to contact the elders and ask them—”

  “That’s my responsibility now.” She winced at her abrupt tone.

  “Is Micah there?” her father asked. “Ask him to go with you.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  “Ellie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you, sunshine. You did it. You actually did it. I wish you were here so I could hug you.”

  Oh no, don’t be pleased with me. I’m lying to you.

  She ended the call and then phoned Micah. “Where are you?”

  “Here.”

  Ellie barely managed to muffle her shriek as her brother stepped from behind a hedge. She stuffed her phone back in her pocket.

  “Was that all a lie? You’re obviously not miles away from Sharwood, so do you have the Kewen? Why would Dad think you needed to go to Whitendale?”

  “When he thinks about it, he’ll realize I lied so Pixie didn’t blab the truth by mistake. As to whether I have the Kewen. Yes and no. It was under the hearthstone, but there’s a problem. Oberon the fifth gave it to Jago’s ancestor in exchange for three children.”