Improper Gentlemen Bundle with Touch of a Thief & Mistress By Mistake

by Maggie Robinson; Mia Marlowe Diane Whiteside

  “What set the heathens off?” Neville demanded.

  “We did,” Quinn said. “We gave them the new Enfields and somehow the rumor started that the paper cartridges were greased with either pig or cow fat. I heard the rumor myself.” Quinn’s eyes took on a faraway light and Viola suspected the sumptuous dining hall had faded around him. “I didn’t think anyone would believe it. But if a lie is repeated often enough, it becomes the truth. It was the perfect spark to light the tinder.”

  Neville frowned at him. “What possible difference should grease make?”

  “To load the Enfield rifle, you must bite open the cartridge first.” Quinn shook his head. “Pork is pollution to a Muslim. Eating beef destroys a Hindu’s caste. Maybe we didn’t mean to, but by insisting they use the Enfield we attacked their religions , Beauchamp. Is there any uglier reason for war on earth?”

  Quinn stood and stalked out with Sanjay in his wake.

  “Apparently, we must go,” Viola said to Neville. Considering the news he’d just received, she’d forgive Quinn’s abominable manners. “Please convey our thanks to the ambassador for his hospitality.”

  “Viola, you don’t have to leave,” Neville said.

  “Oh, yes I do. Good-bye, Neville.” Wherever Quinn went, she must go too. It was as simple—and as complicated—as that.

  Once Quinn reached their room, he began throwing his few possessions into a valise. Sanjay stood by, watching him.

  “We need to move quickly. Aren’t you going to help me?” Quinn demanded.

  “That depends on what you intend to do, sahib.”

  The chamber door opened and Viola entered. Quinn tossed her a glance. He didn’t dare look at her for longer than a blink or his resolve might weaken.

  “I intend on returning Lady Viola safely to her family”—Quinn ignored the rustle of her skirt as she strode toward him—“and then we’ll take ship for Bombay on the next available berth.”

  “You will go without orders?” Sanjay asked.

  “Given the gravity of the situation, do you really think they’ll quibble over having another officer, with or without orders?” Quinn said, studiously not looking at the female form bristling at the corner of his vision. “It’ll take us a couple months if we leave for India today. If I wait to be recalled, I may arrive too late to do any good.”

  “And what of the good you might do on this side of the world?” his friend said.

  Quinn shook his head. “I speak the language of your people. I understand them, as much as any Englishman can at any rate. If I’m there, I can try to find cooler heads on both sides and get them together.” He checked the safety on his Beaumont-Adams and stowed the revolver in his luggage. “There’s nothing I can do from here.”

  “Then you have abandoned Baaghh kaa kkhuun.”

  “Yes. I can’t muck about after a single jewel when the subcontinent is ablaze. I’m done with it.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Viola piped up. “I’ll still help you get the diamond, Sanjay.”

  The Indian inclined his head to her in a gesture of respect. “My people and I will thank you, Lady Viola.”

  “Wait just a minute.” Quinn rounded on her. “Weren’t you paying attention last night? The damn thing attacked you when you touched it and we both know it killed that Frenchman. You’re not going anywhere near it.”

  Viola glanced up from folding her belongings and stowing them in her trunk. She smiled sweetly at him. “You haven’t a thing to say about it.”

  “The hell I don’t.”

  She shot him a purse-lipped look. “There is no need for such language.”

  “There is when you’re talking suicide. Stay away from that diamond. I mean it. I won’t have it.”

  “Contrary to what you’ve been telling people, you’re not really my husband,” Viola said evenly. “I don’t answer to you, so it doesn’t matter a fig what you’ll have or not have.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Viola.” Anger simmered in Quinn’s belly. “I’ll still split the jewels with you as I promised, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s not why I’m doing it.”

  “You little fool!” He grasped her upper arms and made her face him, giving her a small shake. “You know the power of that stone. You know what it can do.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, her eyes wide, her lips pale. “Can you imagine what the Blood of the Tiger will do to our queen if it comes into her possession? To our country?”

  “The red diamond seeks only to destroy,” Sanjay added. “Only in the temple can its evil be balanced with its power and turned for good.”

  “That’s why I have to steal it back.” She grasped Quinn’s hand between both of hers. “You want to help our people and Sanjay’s find peace. What better way to start than by returning something they treasure?”

  Quinn’s gut knotted and he palmed her cheek. “But I don’t want to risk what I treasure.”

  She blinked in surprise at him. “Are you saying you treasure me?”

  It wasn’t the time to speak his heart, not with this thorny problem dividing them and with Sanjay looking on, grinning from ear to ear at his discomfort. “Viola, I can’t let you do this alone.”

  “Then do it with me. I won’t have to touch the diamond if you’re there, too. You’ve never shown the least sensitivity to gems, but you should have a jet and silver ring, just in case and—”

  He covered her mouth with his to quiet her, kissing her into silence and delicious oblivion. The door latch clicked and Quinn realized Sanjay had slipped out to give them privacy.

  He’d tried to choose India. He’d tried with all his might to do the honorable thing. The just thing.

  But his heart was too bound up with the woman in his arms.

  He knew Sanjay would say Quinn had managed to choose both, since he would be protecting Viola during the theft of Baaghh kaa kkhuun. And the theft would benefit Sanjay and the people of Amjerat.

  “You have bound two worlds with one knot,” his friend would say.

  But Quinn knew better. He didn’t give a damn about the red diamond. Or what it might do to England. Or for Amjerat.

  All that mattered was Viola.

  Mr. Chesterton had already sailed by the time Viola, Quinn, and Sanjay reached Bremen. They had to wait till the next day to find a ship bound for Dover.

  Viola chafed at the delay. If the red diamond was presented to the queen and disappeared into the Royal Collection, she didn’t know how they’d manage to pinch it. Willie’s contacts in the underbelly of London, who provided her with intelligence about where the ton’s personal wealth was stashed, would be of no help in planning a foray into the Tower.

  The ruffians might be useful for breaking out of a prison fortress, but never in.

  When they finally reached London, Quinn insisted on taking Viola straight home. Her mother greeted them at the door, so Viola could only surmise their doddering servant was once again down with an ailment.

  “Oh, my dear,” the Dowager Countess of Meade exclaimed. “What are you doing home so soon? You should be off to Italy or some such romantic place. Why didn’t you tell me? Come in, come in, you sly boots!”

  Viola’s mother cast an assessing eye at Quinn and then swatted him with her fan. “Couldn’t have waited to have the banns read, eh? Well, no matter. So long as you make my daughter happy, I’m pleased to have you as a son-in-law, Lord Ashford. Welcome to the family.”

  “Mother, where did you hear—”

  “Lady Wimbly sent word back from Paris to Lady Hepplewhite and then of course, your secret was out,” Viola’s mother prattled on. “Quite scandalous to elope like that, but everyone so approves the match. Except perhaps your father, Ashford. By all accounts, he’s frightfully put out that you didn’t consult him before you spirited my daughter off to Gretna Green.”

  Viola’s chest constricted. “Mother, I have to tell you. We’re not—”

  “Not set
up to receive visitors yet,” Quinn interrupted, “but as soon as Viola redecorates my town house, we’ll have a reception to celebrate. I fear it’s a bit of a boar’s nest now. Needs a woman’s touch.”

  “Oh, lovely. Viola does have a flair for such things,” Lady Meade said. “Perhaps your father will come round to the match by then. I believe the poor man has taken to his bed over it. After all, even if she doesn’t come with a handsome dowry, my Viola is the daughter of an earl.”

  Lady Meade continued with minimal input from Quinn or Viola. She admired the serpent wedding ring, declaring it quite the “done thing,” though she deplored the choice of silver and jet jewelry.

  “A bride ought not wear black!”

  Viola’s belly jittered too much for her to contribute to the conversation. With each passing moment, the web of deceit around her and Quinn grew thicker and more difficult to untangle.

  “Oh! And you won’t have heard since you’ve been out of country, but there’s to be a ceremony at Buckingham this afternoon. The presentation of some fabulous jewel from India to our queen. Came right from one of their temples, they do say. Quite an honor, evidently, for such a treasure to be allowed to leave India according to those who ought to know. Makes one quite proud of our empire’s distant possession.”

  Evidently, news of the sepoy rebellion hadn’t leaked to the press yet or Viola’s mother wouldn’t have been so lavish in her praise of their “distant possession.”

  “Everyone who’s anyone will be there.” Lady Meade clasped her hands together. “Say you’ll go with me.”

  “Of course we will,” Quinn said, taking Viola’s hand in his. “It’ll be our first outing in London society as husband and wife.”

  She wished she were strong enough to squeeze his fingers off. He kept making it more and more difficult to make a clean breast of things.

  “Well, then we’ll—oh gracious, look at the time!” Viola’s mother consulted her brooch watch, the last of her remaining jewelry from her days as a countess. “If we wish to have a proper place for viewing the queen, we’ll need to go now. Let me fetch my parasol and we’ll be off.”

  Viola’s mother scurried out of the room before she could see her daughter give her new husband a smack on the back of the head.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Ow!” Quinn rubbed the back of his head. “That was rather less cordial than a man expects of his bride.”

  “That’s because I’m not your bride,” she hissed. “Why are you making things more difficult?”

  “More difficult? I should think you’d have been pleased.” Did she want him to destroy her reputation? He’d intended to tell her when her mother left the room that he meant to make the rumors true, wanted her to reconsider his offer of marriage. But if she was set on being so prickly, he’d let her stew a bit longer. “Isn’t it better to be thought impetuous than ruined?”

  She glared at him. “It’s better to be honest, and much easier to remember the truth than a whole pack of lies.”

  Quinn snorted. “I’d forgotten thieves were such sticklers for the truth.”

  “I didn’t think you were so adept with lies.” She fidgeted with her gloves, unbuttoning them as if she intended to remove them and then refastening the closures.

  “Viola, what’s wrong with you? You’re nervous as a cat.”

  She stood and paced before the cold fireplace, her elegant ensemble casting the room in a shabbier light. Though the parlor was furnished with an eye to correctness, it was obvious all the items of value had been sold off long ago.

  “We’re too late,” she fumed. “There’ll be no catching Mr. Chesterton with the jewel ahead of time now.”

  “Viola, let it go,” Quinn said.

  “How can you say that? Didn’t you drag me across the continent for the diamond?” She stopped pacing and glared at him. “You know what the Blood of the Tiger is capable of, what might happen once it reaches the Royal Collection. How can you be so indifferent?”

  “I’m not indifferent.” That was an understatement. He loathed the red diamond for several reasons, but highest on the list was the hold it seemed to have on Viola. “But I think we need to regroup and consider our next move. In war, one often doesn’t know where the battle will be joined until the enemy commits himself. I’m not without other resources. Be patient. Let’s see what the day brings.”

  Lady Meade returned, her wrinkled face flushed and gay as a girl’s. “I trust you have appropriate transportation for us, Ashford.”

  “Of course, ma’am. It is my honor to escort two such lovely women to this momentous occasion.” He offered his arm to Lady Meade. May as well milk the cow to get the calf. “And please, call me Quinn.”

  They arrived at the stands erected near the royal dais in time to secure a premium space for viewing the ceremony before the rest of the ton filled in the available seating. The regal box was festooned with red and blue bunting and appropriately gilded in preparation for Her Majesty’s arrival. The green space before Buckingham Palace filled with commoners and laborers who hoped to get a glimpse of their queen and the fabulous jewel she was supposed to receive as tribute from a distant point in the empire.

  Viola’s mother preened for her acquaintances and introduced Quinn as her new son-in-law to all who spoke to them. Lady Meade was making the most of her freshly elevated status, clearly anticipating that her daughter’s wealthy husband would care for their needs as her own nephew had not. With Viola in line to become a viscountess, the Dowager Countess of Meade and her family might find their way back into the mainstream of the ton.

  With each offer of felicitations from those who’d recently ignored her mother, Viola wondered how she’d extricate herself from the increasingly sticky tangle. She resisted reminding Quinn that he’d offered to marry her in Paris. If he were serious about it, surely he’d broach the subject himself.

  Yet if he was only resigned to marrying her to avoid a scandal, she wasn’t sure she’d accept. She didn’t want to be someone’s burden, someone’s inevitable responsibility.

  The only other respectable way out was to announce that their “marriage” had been annulled. But that would compound one lie with another.

  What a perfectly vicious little circle.

  A brass ensemble blasted out a fanfare by Handel, interrupting Viola’s thoughts. Her Majesty processed past the viewing stands so burdened with regalia she was like a frigate under full sail. The queen mounted the dais and settled onto her throne. An impressive entourage of courtiers bobbed in her wake.

  No ceremony was complete without speechifying. Several dignitaries found it necessary to drone on about the sun never setting on the British Empire due, no doubt, to the beauties and superiority of the English culture.

  As if everyone present didn’t already believe that implicitly.

  Almost everyone.

  Quinn was restive during the speeches. When one scholar who’d made an “extensive three week tour of India” started pontificating about the blessings England had bestowed on a backward nation, Viola felt the muscles in Quinn’s thigh tense where it touched hers.

  “Only three bloody weeks of gallivanting and he thinks he’s an expert.” Quinn snorted.

  Viola shushed him. If they were ever to get close to the diamond again, alienating the queen’s people was not the way to go about it.

  Finally, Mr. Chesterton, who was introduced as one of the Crown’s premier gemologists, appeared with an honor guard of Beefeaters flanking his steps. He bore a vermillion pillow with a small jewel box nestled on it instead of the snuffbox. Even though the musicians were still playing, Viola strained to hear the low voice of the diamond.

  “Something’s not right,” Viola whispered to Quinn.

  “Make that ‘everything’ and I’ll agree,” he answered back.

  “No, it’s not here. I can’t feel the diamond.”

  Quinn sat up straighter as Chesterton passed directly before them. “Maybe it’s the box. It looks like it’s
made of silver, inlaid with dark stones.”

  “Maybe.” Viola frowned, unclasped her jet and silver wristlets and stuffed them into her reticule.

  Still nothing.

  She removed her earbobs. Only the delicate necklace remained but since it was hidden under her high-collared day dress, she couldn’t remove it without a tussle. Though the diamond couldn’t harm her from a distance while she wore her silver shield, its voice was strong enough she ought to be able to hear Baaghh kaa kkhuun.

  She leaned and cupped her hand around Quinn’s ear to whisper. “Even with the shielding, I should sense the stone’s presence. Without the wristlets, I should be nauseous. I tell you, whatever is in that box, it’s not genuine.”

  “Wait till it’s opened,” Quinn said.

  Viola scrunched the extra fabric of her skirt between her fingers. After all that had happened, he still didn’t believe her.

  Mr. Chesterton dropped to one knee before the queen, holding the pillowed jewel box aloft. Viola hoped to heaven she was right. If not and if the queen was sensitive to gems, the red diamond might claim yet another victim as it had the Comte de Foix.

  The queen leaned forward with interest as one of her advisors stepped up to open the box. The stick-thin man lifted the silver case from the pillow and presented it to the queen with an elaborate bow. She smiled at the stone and nodded. Her advisor returned to her side, holding the silver box before him. The deep red stone winked in the sun, making it seem larger than its five or six carats.

  “Who’s that holding the jewel box?” Viola asked.

  “Hubert Fenimore, another spare son like me, but he’s not likely to inherit. He has three older brothers,” Quinn said. Another dignitary had launched into a pedantic speech about the rarity and splendor of the red diamond from Amjerat’s temple. “Fenimore was a couple years ahead of me at Eaton. Is he in danger?”

  “Not unless there’s a stiff wind,” she said. She’d never seen a more sepulchral figure. Fit the man with a cape and a breeze would send him aloft like a kite. “That’s not Baaghh kaa kkhuun he’s holding. Chesterton must have provided a convincing fake.”