by Amelia Grey
He swept a low bow and said, “Forgive me, Your Grace. Please come in. Sir Randolph is at home, and I’ll check at once to see if he might be available.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sure Sir Randolph would want me to offer you tea or chocolate while you wait,” the butler said as they walked into the exotically furnished drawing room.
“None for me, thank you, but would you mind showing my companion a place where she might have refreshment while she waits for me?”
“At once, Your Grace,” he said and bowed again.
Mrs. Princeton followed him out, and Susannah looked around the room. It was spacious and surprisingly filled with fancy, dark wood furniture that was covered in embroidered silk fabrics of astoundingly vibrant colors and patterns in shades so rich and striking, she decided they could have only come from the Orient.
Life-size statuaries of Venus and Athena held up the marble mantle that graced the ornate fireplace, and the gold-framed mirror over it was shaped like a large pagoda. The only window in the room was framed with a strikingly odd shade of red velvet draperies. Each panel was held back with large, gold velvet tassels, exposing intricate lace panels covering the panes. Gray skies allowed little light to filter into the room, but lit lamps on either side of the settee gave the room a golden, warm glow.
Susannah sat down on a chair that had an embroidered dragon on the cushion’s fabric, and within minutes of her arrival, Sir Randolph came striding into the room with a curious expression on his face.
Susannah rose. The dapper old gentleman bowed and kissed her hand.
“Your Grace, this is an unexpected but nonetheless pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
She smiled at him. “I have come with questions I hope you can answer, but, Sir Randolph, I see your hands are quite swollen. I know you are preparing for your fight. Are you sure you are taking proper care of yourself?”
Sir Randolph held up his hands and looked at them. It seemed he could barely move his thick fingers. They were not only swollen but red and chaffed, as well.
“Thank you for your concern, Duchess. This is merely part of my training. I’m toughening and conditioning my hands. In the meantime, they are not a pretty sight.”
“I see. You know I wish you all good luck with that, and I hope your hands don’t pain you too much.”
“Not at all. There is no need for you to worry about me. I’m hearing that Prattle isn’t doing anything to ready himself for the fight, but that doesn’t matter to me. I think I’m going to win, in any case,” he finished confidently.
Susannah smiled at him again. He was so debonair and so sure of himself, it lifted her spirits just looking at him. “I believe you will.”
“Sit down, Duchess, and tell me what I can do for you this morning.”
“Thank you.” She took a seat on the red and gold striped settee, and Sir Randolph eased into the brightly printed chair in front of her.
“I know that I don’t know you well, but I need to ask you for a favor.”
Surprise sparkled in his brown eyes. “It’s been a long time since anyone asked a favor of me. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t known each other long. What do you need?”
She inhaled slowly before saying, “I need to meet Mr. Harold Winston and Mr. Albert Smith. I’ve heard that the Earl and Countess of Kendrickson usually give a large party, so I’m assuming there is a good possibility one or both gentlemen will be at their home tomorrow night. I was wondering if you might be planning to attend, and if so, would you make the introductions for me?”
His curious eyes searched her face. “I usually go to Lord Kendrickson’s party, Duchess.” He paused. “First, let me say that Mr. Smith is not of the ilk to be welcomed into any home in Polite Society, so there is no chance he will be there.”
“Oh, I see. Not knowing the man, I wasn’t aware of that.”
Sir Randolph continued to look at her with a quizzical expression. “And as for Mr. Winston, even though he’s accepted among the ton and he’s throwing Prinny’s name around like a bouncing ball, he’s not exactly in your social standing, either, Duchess.”
Susannah understood exactly what Sir Randolph was saying. Social standing meant everything to the members of the ton. “Nevertheless, I would be grateful if you would consent to make the introductions.”
“He will probably be there, and I’m happy to do it for you, but what about Race?”
An ache filled Susannah’s chest, and emotion clogged in her throat. If Sir Randolph had not heard that the pearls had been stolen from Race last night, she did not want to be the one to tell him. That was Race’s call to make, not hers.
“Have you talked to Race today?” she asked.
“No.” Sir Randolph kept his wary gaze on her face. “Have you?”
“Yes, and I assume you are wondering why I am asking you this question when I could have easily asked Lord Raceworth.”
Sir Randolph leaned back in his chair, clearly undecided on what to say. “No, I’m thinking you didn’t ask him because you knew he wouldn’t do it.”
“That is probably true, but there is another reason, as well.” She moved to the edge of her seat. “I will only say that Lord Raceworth is not happy with me right now, and he is not a possibility for helping me with anything. That said, I realize he is your dear friend, and you may not want to help me for that reason alone. If that be the case, I will understand and not bother you further.”
He seemed to study over his answer before smiling and saying, “Would you like to know how many times I’ve done things that Race didn’t approve of?”
Hope surged inside her. “Judging from your long friendship with him and your fierce independence, I would say too many to count.”
“And you’d be right. I do hate to disappoint a lovely lady, so I will honor your request. If Mr. Winston is at Lord Kendrickson’s party tomorrow evening, I’ll make sure to present him to you.”
“Thank you. And if you don’t mind, I have one more question.”
“Why stop now? Go ahead.”
“Do you know how I could go about finding Mr. Smith?”
Sir Randolph rubbed his enlarged hands together and thought for a moment. “His antique shop is on Watford Lane. But, Duchess, I don’t think he is the kind of man you should be pursuing, no matter how good your reasons.”
“I understand your concerns, Sir Randolph.”
“You have me very curious, Duchess. I know Race well. I can’t believe that he would want you making plans to see these men.”
The heaviness returned to Susannah’s chest. “Believe me, Race does not care what I do or whom I see. I don’t think he would tell me the time of day if I asked him.”
She rose. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Sir Randolph stood up, too. “There’s one other thing you should know before you go.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“I will tell Race about your visit and what I’m doing for you.”
She nodded. “I’m perfectly all right with that. He cannot think worse of me than he already does.”
Sir Randolph’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “What happened between you two?”
Susannah struggled to renew her inner strength. “I will let the marquis tell you.”
Sir Randolph hesitated but finally said, “Fair enough. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, but I’m grateful you have been so kind and helpful.”
“I just hope I don’t end up regretting this.”
“I’ll do my best to see you don’t.”
“Then I’ll see you at Lord Kendrickson’s tomorrow evening?”
She smiled. “Yes. Thank you, Sir Randolph. You have helped me greatly.”
“I don’t know that I have, Duchess. Only time will tell.”
She looked at him curiously as he walked with her to the door.
Half an hour later, a bell jangled as Mrs. Princeton opene
d the door of Smith’s Antiquities Shop at number one-thirty-nine Watford Street. Susannah stepped inside, and the first thing she noticed was the overpowering yet pleasant smell of citrus incense. The room was crowded with furniture but well lighted. At a quick glance, she counted four lamps burning brightly.
Obviously, Mr. Smith didn’t want anyone to have trouble seeing his wares and, by the fleeting glimpse she gave the place, she’d say most of his collection was more bizarre than traditional. The stuffed head of what looked like a wild boar stared directly at her from the front wall, two matching stone gargoyles with bright red eyes watched her from her right, and a life-size brass suit of armor stood on her left.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” a short, slim-built man said, appearing from behind a Japanese silk screen painted with gray swallows, colorful blossoms, and white cranes.
Susannah knew at once he had to be Mr. Albert Smith, because Race had said that the man had only one arm. The empty sleeve of his black wool coat had been neatly folded and pinned at his shoulder. He wore an affable expression on his face, along with a pair of spectacles that rode low on the bridge of his nose. From behind the screen, another man stepped into her view. He was younger, taller, and more robust.
“Sir, I am the Dowager Duchess of Blooming.”
His light blue eyes widened with eager surprise. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he said and immediately bowed. “Thank you for coming into my humble shop. I am Mr. Smith, and this is my associate Mr. Helms. How may I assist you?”
Susannah didn’t want to appear anxious, and she hoped her own nervousness didn’t show. “I would like to browse through your shop, if you don’t mind. I see you have many extraordinary pieces that have already caught my eye.”
He smiled impatiently. “Yes, yes, by all means. Please take your time, and let me know if I can help you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Susannah took her time and slowly walked around the shop, Mrs. Princeton following her every move like a dutiful companion. Occasionally, Susannah would pick up a fine china figurine and examine it closely, or touch the rough fabric of an old tapestry, or stop and admire a painting on the wall. But she was always cognizant that Mr. Smith and his colleague were pretending not to watch her every move.
“I don’t think this is the kind of place you should be in, Your Grace,” Mrs. Princeton whispered when they were quite a distance from the two men.
“Perhaps not,” Susannah whispered, “but nonetheless, we stay here until my business is concluded.”
On a side table, beside a miniature statue of Athena, she saw several old music scores on torn and tattered pieces of aged parchment.
She carefully picked them up. Looking at the notes, she could see the melody was intricate and complicated. She tried to sound the notes in her mind. Learning new music was always a challenge, and she desperately needed something to take her mind off Race. She had not come to shop, but there was no way she could pass up the music. Playing the pianoforte always calmed her, and finding these old, rare copies gave her a new confidence to finish the task at hand.
Susannah handed the scores to Mrs. Princeton to hold, and then she headed over to the magnificent desk where Mr. Smith stood looking at an account book.
“Yes, Your Grace,” he said with a wide smile. “I see you found something of interest.”
“I do have a penchant for music played on the pianoforte.”
“Excellent. How else may I be of service?”
As casually as she could, Susannah said, “I noticed on your shop window that it says you deal in jewelry, but I don’t see any here in your shop.”
He lifted the spectacles from his nose and laid them on his desk. He smiled cunningly and said, “Oh, my, yes, Duchess, I have some exceptional gems and gold pieces. I acquire precious stones from all over the world, but of course, because of their value, I must keep them in the safe in my office. I’m happy to bring them out here one at a time and show you what I have, or if it’s more comfortable for you, you and your companion can join me in my office, where it will be more private, and you can look over all that I have for as long as you want. Mr. Helms will watch the shop for me.”
Susannah’s stomach jumped at the thought that he might actually have the pearls, yet she had an innate reluctance to go to the back of this man’s shop. Instinct told her this was not a man to trifle with. She had to calm herself. Finding the pearls could not be as easy as simply having this man present them to her, but oh, how she would love it if it turned out to be so.
Swallowing her hesitation, she said, “Of course, we’ll follow you to your office. I would very much like to see all that you have.”
“Certainly.”
Mr. Smith picked up his spectacles as he nodded to Mr. Helms. He then turned back to Susannah and said, “This way.”
Susannah and Mrs. Princeton followed Mr. Smith down a dimly lit corridor to a small, damp room that held an oak desk with baroque, trumpet-shaped legs. It was littered with papers and books. Mr. Smith walked over to a skirted, round table that stood against a far wall. He pushed the lamp and a small statue of David to one side and lifted the hem of the brown brocade cloth and bunched it up on the table. Susannah briefly saw what appeared to be a large iron safe with two key holes in it, one underneath the other, before Mr. Smith knelt in front of it.
Her gaze darted to Mrs. Princeton, who was standing near the doorway, stiff with apprehension, holding the music to her chest as if it might somehow protect her from whatever it was she feared. Looking back at Mr. Smith, Susannah watched him pull a ring with several keys on it from his coat pocket and unlock the top lock.
He rose and said, “Excuse me. I have to get the other key from another room.” He went back out the door. Susannah glanced at Mrs. Princeton and raised her eyebrows in a hopeful gesture.
“There, that didn’t take long,” Mr. Smith said, hurrying back into the office. “For safety purposes, I have to keep one of the keys hidden, you understand.”
“I can see the wisdom of that,” Susannah said calmly, even though she felt as if all her insides were quaking. And she didn’t exactly know why. It wasn’t as if Mr. Smith or his associate had said or done anything to make her fearful of them.
When she first walked into the shop, the scent of the citrus incense was pleasant, but now, with the pressure of what she was doing, it was beginning to give her a headache. Knowing that there was the slightest possibility she could find the pearls kept Susannah’s mind occupied and her hands calm.
Mr. Smith quickly cleaned off an area of his desk and slid an oil lamp over. He pulled a camel-back chair around and said, “Please, Your Grace, sit here where you can be comfortable and see well. I’ll bring everything to you.”
She accepted the chair and stared as he knelt in front of the safe again and put the key in the bottom lock and twisted the handle. The heavy door swung open. With his hand, he pulled out several velvet boxes and two trays filled with an assortment of jewels and carefully put them all on the desk in front of her. She was amazed at how he managed to do so much with just one arm and hand.
Susannah took her time and calmly looked at everything Mr. Smith spread before her. He showed her elaborate gold and jeweled crowns, large diamond necklaces, and loose rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. She complimented exceptional pieces and asked questions about others until her head began to pound. When she felt she couldn’t look at another gem, she said to him, “I haven’t seen any pearls, Mr. Smith. Do you have any?”
His brow wrinkled, and he pursed his lips. “I did, but not now.”
Susannah tensed but hoped it didn’t show on her face. “What do you mean?”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, as if he could see a sale slipping through his fingers. “I had some of the most beautiful pearls in the world a couple of weeks ago, but a gentleman came in and purchased them all.”
“A gentleman bought them all?”
“Every one,” Mr. Smith said, clearly disappointed he
had no pearls to show her. “I don’t talk about anyone who visits my shop, as I keep my client list private, but this, this man, he was a very strange person. He bought every pearl and wanted more. He asked if I knew where he might find others. I told him I was happy to check with my sources and see what I could do for him. I called on a well-known man in Town. A marquis,” he said as his eyes sparkled. “I thought he might be willing to part with some very rare pearls he has, for a handsome sum of course, but he was not interested.” Mr. Smith shrugged. “But I can speak to him again. He might be more willing if he knows my client is a beautiful duchess.”
Putting two and two together quickly, Susannah came up with the scenario that Captain Spyglass was probably the gentleman who had bought all of Mr. Smith’s pearls and that Race had to be the well-known marquis he spoke with about the Talbot pearls.
Susannah smiled. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m not that eager. I just found it odd that, among all these extraordinary gems, there were no pearls.”
If what Mr. Smith told her was true, and there was nothing in his features to indicate he was hiding the truth from her, she didn’t think he had stolen the Talbot pearls from Race. He was much too free with his information to be hiding a theft.
Still, to be sure, she said, “Do you mind if I ask, was the man who bought the pearls Captain Spyglass?”
Mr. Smith’s eyes rounded, and he pushed his spectacles up closer to his eyes. “Yes, how did you know? Forgive me, Your Grace, for speaking so much about him. I don’t usually talk about my clients.”
She gave the man a reassuring smile. “You have told me nothing about the man I didn’t already know. In fact, it’s well known throughout London that Captain Spyglass has been buying pearls from all over the world. And when I met him, he was dripping in pearls.” Susannah kept going. “And might I conclude that the gentleman you spoke of who has the rare pearls is the Marquis of Raceworth?”
“I—I’ve said far too much, Your Grace.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Smith. It was written in Lord Truefitt’s column that Lord Raceworth received the Talbot pearls from his grandmother.”
