A Marquis to Marry (24 page)

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Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Regency novels, #Man-woman relationships, #Regency fiction, #London (England), #FIC027050, #Contemporary, #FIC027000, #FIC014000, #Royal houses, #Nobility, #Love stories

BOOK: A Marquis to Marry
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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.”

Relief washed down Mr. Smith’s face. “Yes, that is how I knew he had them. I mentioned the gentlemen only because I wanted you to know the reason I have no pearls to show you. I would be pleased to notify you when I can obtain more pearls. I would consider it an honor to have something you wanted.”

She rose. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Mr. Smith.”

He swept his hand across all the jewels that lay on the desk in front of her and questioned, “Did you not find anything to your liking? I have more.”

Mr. Smith went back to the safe. It was clear he didn’t like the idea of a possible sale slipping away. “Oh, but I did find something I wanted,” she said with a smile. “I am delighted that I found the old music scores. My companion will pay you for them. She will leave you my card so you can send me a note should you get more music or pearls.”

The man beamed and bowed graciously, knowing he’d made the only sale he was going to get from her today but pleased he might have other opportunities in the future.

“Most assuredly. I am always available to be at your service, Your Grace.”

Susannah nodded and started threading her way back to the front door. She wanted to get away from the intense citrus scent and clear her thoughts and pounding head.

She hoped she wasn’t being gullible but she believed everything Mr. Smith had told her. She had watched him closely and concentrated on his eyes and his mannerisms, not how well he could do things with only one arm. She was almost positive he didn’t have the Talbot pearls. His story about Captain Spyglass and Race rang true. His recounting matched with what Race had told her the first day they met. She remembered Race saying the antiquities dealer wanted to buy the pearls for a client.

For now, at least, she felt confident in marking Mr. Smith off the list of possible suspects. She had no doubts that, if he’d had the necklace, he would have shown it to her. So that left Mr. Harold Winston and Captain Spyglass for her to deal with. And she had to factor in that there was always the possibility of someone else who hadn’t revealed himself to Race the way she, Captain Spyglass, and Mr. Winston had.

Susannah nodded to Mr. Helms as she walked past him. The bell on the door jangled as Susannah stepped onto the boardwalk that ran along the street, leaving Mrs. Princeton to deal with Mr. Smith and the scores. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, hoping the damp air would clear the heavy smell of incense from her mind and clear her head, if not her clothing.

“Susannah?”

Her eyes popped open, and she found herself staring into Race’s troubled eyes. After their angry parting earlier that morning, it stunned her that her heart still fluttered uncontrollably at the sight of him.

She took a step away from him. A light breeze feathered his hair across his forehead, making him amazingly attractive, and she winced from the emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

A deep frown creased his forehead and around his eyes. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he asked.

She took in another deep breath to fortify herself. “Probably for the same reason I am not surprised to see you here. I do not take kindly to your following me, my lord.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Following you? Is that what you think? I wasn’t, but I can see that I should have. I came here to see if Smith had closed his shop and escaped London with my grandmother’s pearls. What excuse do you have for being here?”

She had to admit that, once again, the circumstances made her appear guilty. “Perhaps it was your grandmother’s dear friend, Lord Chesterfield, who said, ‘Looks can be deceiving.’”

Concern edged his features, and he said, “Susannah, the man inside that shop deals with criminals. If you had nothing to do with the theft of the pearls, you should have no dealings with that man.”

“If?” she exclaimed. She held out her empty hands, unable to keep from defending herself yet again. “Do I look like I have any pearls on my person? I have no pockets on this cape and none on my dress. I don’t even have a reticule with me today.” She untied the satin ribbon that held her cape together and flung it off her shoulders and draped it over her arm. “And as you can see, I have no pearls around my neck.”

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