An Affair Without End (9 page)

Stewkesbury’s brows lifted in surprise. “You seem to know a great deal about this.”

She nodded. “I’ve always loved jewels, you know. Papa was wont to give them to me.”

Vivian’s mother had died not long after Vivian was born, and her father, freed of an unhappy marriage, had spent most of his time in London during Vivian’s youth, leaving her to the care of nurses and governesses. Intermittently touched by guilt, he would send her gifts or bring them home with him when he returned for one of his infrequent visits.

“His gifts, of course, were largely unsuitable for a child,” Vivian went on lightly. “Little glass figures or a pigeon’s blood ruby set in a filigreed brooch. My governess would cluck over the thought of sending such breakables to a child and set them up high out of my reach. It will come as no surprise to you that I climbed up to take them down and examine them. I loved the gems—the glitter, the deep, rich tones, the glow of the gold settings.” She shrugged. “So when I was older, I started buying them myself. There’s something fascinating about them—not just the beauty, but the stories behind the gems.”

She glanced over at Oliver and found him watching her
intently. She felt suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you staring at me so?”

“Was I? I’ve never heard you speak so . . . seriously about something.”

“I’m not
entirely
frivolous. Though I suppose some would say that jewelry is a frivolous matter to begin with.”

“Mm. I think to many, it’s been a matter of life and death.”

This time, Vivian raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Precisely. The diamond that I am going to pick up today once belonged to Mary, Queen of Scots. No one knows exactly how it left her possession. She had an extensive number of jewels, many of them ones she brought back with her from France. And when she fled Scotland, she had to leave much of her collection behind. Others she gave as bribes, they say, to her captors. She sent Queen Elizabeth a diamond brooch, hoping, no doubt, to keep her from sending Mary to the block. She gave some to her supporters to keep for her or to use to free her. The Scots Green was one that disappeared. It was originally part of a brooch, along with a number of smaller, colorless diamonds, but fifty years later, when it turned up again, it was set as a pendant in a necklace belonging to the Countess of Berkhamstead.”

“And how did it get there?”

Vivian shrugged. “You see? That is what is so fascinating about jewels. No one knows how it came into Lady Berkhamstead’s hands. But it was clearly the Scots Green; there was no mistaking it. After a few more generations, it disappeared again. This summer Mr. Brookman sent me a note saying that it had turned up in Antwerp. The necklace had been broken up, and the Scots Green was for sale. So I told him yes; I cannot resist either green gems or a tragic history. He has reset it in a necklace, but this is the first chance I have had to see it.”

“And you are eagerly anticipating it.” Oliver smiled as he watched her.

“You will come in and see it, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he replied, and was rewarded by a dazzling smile.

The carriage pulled up in front of the narrow shop on Sackville Street, not far from the more famous Gray’s. By the time Oliver handed Vivian down from the carriage, a clerk had opened the door of the shop. Mr. Brookman himself met them just inside the door. A slight man with thinning blond hair and pale blue eyes, he had a grave air and a stoop-shouldered posture that made him appear years older than he was. In fact, he was no older than Stewkesbury, having come into ownership of the store at the death of his grandfather. He glanced with some surprise at Stewkesbury, but he quickly recovered, bowing, and whisked them through the outer shop and into the privacy of his office.

Vivian introduced Lord Stewkesbury to the jeweler, and Brookman offered them tea, as he always did whenever Vivian came into the store. The social ritual was part of the impeccable service that Brookman & Son offered, but from the way his grave manner lightened as they sipped their tea from delicate china cups and conversed about the weather and their health, Vivian suspected that Mr. Brookman enjoyed the convention as much as he considered it good business.

Today, however, they did not linger long over their tea, for both of them were eager to get to the Scots Green. With a touch of dramatic flair, the jeweler laid out a pad covered in rich black velvet, then took the necklace from his safe and laid it out gently on the pad.

“Oh, my . . .” Vivian breathed out a sigh of admiration. “Mr. Brookman, I believe you have outdone yourself.”

Elegant links of gold formed the necklace, separated
every few links by a cluster of small diamonds surrounding a small green diamond, and in the very center of the piece was a grander cluster of white diamonds around a large green diamond. It was clear and light green, not the deep green of emeralds, but a delicate, pale color of great depth and clarity. The short necklace was designed to lie at the base of Vivian’s throat, the center nestling at the delicate hollow. The goldwork was beautifully done, but subtle, almost muted, the design drawing the eye to the centerpiece of the large green diamond.

“I am glad your ladyship approves,” Brookman murmured, and though Vivian knew that he tried to restrain his smile, pride shone in his eyes.

She leaned closer to examine the green diamond, and the jeweler quickly offered her his loupe. The jeweler’s eyepiece was, she knew, one of his most prized possessions, adorned with a thin silver band on which were engraved his initials, GDB. He seemed to take great pleasure in handing it to her to use. Quiet though he was, a streak of artistic pride ran through him.

Putting the loupe to her eye, she bent over the jewel. “It’s beautiful. So large to have so few inclusions.”

“It’s a stunning gem. And rare. It was a very lucky find.”

“Your design is the perfect setting for it.” She glanced up and found Oliver watching her. Her heart did an odd little lurch in her chest, and she turned quickly back. “I must try it on.”

Brookman started to rise from his seat behind the desk, but Vivian was already turning to Oliver, holding out the necklace. He took it from her and came around behind her, lowering it over her head so that it settled on her throat. His fingers brushed against her nape as he fastened the clasp, and his touch sent a shiver of sensation down through her.
She looked down, feeling suddenly a trifle breathless, even flustered.

“How does it look?” she asked, standing up and turning.

“Beautiful.” Oliver was looking at her, and something was in his gray eyes, something dark and heated, that both warmed her and disturbed her composure even more.

For a moment his eyes held hers, then Vivian turned away, going to the small mirror on the opposite wall of the office. She gazed at her image, studying the necklace long enough to let the faint flush subside from her cheeks.

“I love it,” she said, looking back with a smile at Brookman. “You have outdone yourself.”

“Her ladyship is too kind.” He inclined his head toward her in a courtly nod.

Vivian paused, then added lightly, “I am almost afraid to wear it, however. There have been so many thefts.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stewkesbury stiffen, but she kept her gaze turned determinedly away from him as she walked back to her chair.

The jeweler’s mouth tightened, and he frowned. “I have heard. It’s outrageous.”

“Then you and other jewelers have talked about it?”

“Perhaps Mr. Brookman would prefer not to discuss the matter,” Oliver began, but the jeweler was already speaking.

“It is most alarming, my lady. We cannot help but worry.”

“What I wonder is what they do with the jewels they steal,” Vivian went on. Oliver was staring holes through her, but she ignored him. “Do they bring them to jewelers to sell?”

Such was, she knew, a common practice among the aristocracy who’d found themselves too deeply in debt. The discreet sale of a bauble or two to one’s jeweler had carried more than one of her peers through a tight spot.

“Pawn them, I suppose,” Brookman replied, looking troubled. “The odd thing is—no one I have spoken with has bought jewels from anyone who seemed suspicious.”

“No one?” Oliver blurted out, his curiosity apparently overcoming even his control.

The other man shook his head. “Not anyone I know. All the people who have brought them jewelry to sell have been, if not known to the jeweler, at least someone who seems to be the sort of person who would have jewelry to sell.”

“I see.” Vivian nodded, her eyes lighting with interest. “That would indicate that the thief is a gentleman.”

“Or someone who appears to be a gentleman,” Oliver added.

Brookman gravely nodded to the earl. “Yes, of course you are right. Indeed, ’tis no doubt more likely that it is a man who merely pretends to be of higher station.”

“I don’t know,” Vivian put in lightly. “I’ve known a few gentlemen who I would not be surprised to learn were thieves.” She smiled as she reached up to unclasp her necklace. “But that is quite enough of such lowering thoughts.” She carefully laid the necklace back in its case. “I suggest we look to something more pleasant—would you care to show me some of your newer stock, Mr. Brookman? It has been some time since I have been here.”

“Yes, indeed, my lady.” The jeweler seized on the change of subject and rose to show Vivian out the door of his office.

Stewkesbury trailed after them as they went back into the sales area of the shop. While they had been talking, the clerk had obviously closed the store to customers, for the room was empty of everyone now except for the clerk, who stood unobtrusively behind the farthest counter.

The shop was small but elegantly furnished, with fine mahogany and glass cases in which pieces of jewelry rested, as well as elegantly carved mahogany chairs placed
strategically here and there for customers who wished to rest or contemplate the pieces at greater length. Like most jewelry stores, Brookman & Son sold gold and silver plate, as well, and these were displayed in a pair of tall, glass-fronted cabinets.

Vivian and the jeweler examined several bracelets and earrings while Oliver waited patiently. In the end, she needed one of the bracelets and two pairs of earrings, as well as an exquisite onyx-and-ivory cameo brooch.

A few minutes later, they were back in Vivian’s carriage, her bag of purchases resting on the seat beside her. She cast a smile at Oliver, saying, “There, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

“It was . . . enlightening. You said that you were interested in jewelry, but I did not realize the extent of your knowledge until I heard you talking to Brookman.”

“You mean I am not so empty-headed as you thought?”

Oliver looked pained. “I have never thought you empty-headed. In fact, I have always believed your head is full of more ideas than is quite safe.”

Vivian chuckled. “You are always a clever opponent.”

He raised his brows. “Is that how you view me—as an enemy?”

She tilted her head a little, considering. “No, not an enemy. A worthy member of the opposition, let’s say.”

“I suppose that is better than being a tyrant—as I recall you once called me.”

“No! Did I? That sounds excessively rude.”

“Mm. In your defense, I believe I had told you to leave the house and not show your face again.”

“That does sound a bit autocratic.”

“At the time you had just switched my tooth powder for some sort of soap.”

“Oh, no.” Vivian had to laugh. “I was a complete handful
then, wasn’t I? It’s a wonder your grandfather did not bar me from the house, as well.”

“I had the good sense not to tell him.”

She raised her eyes. “Why? Surely you weren’t trying to protect me?”

“Don’t give me credit for such nobility. No, it was to save myself from a proper tongue-lashing for being unable to handle a fourteen-year-old chit.” He paused. “He would have been right. I hadn’t the first idea what to do about you.”

“You were too much of a gentleman, no doubt, to give me a taste of my own medicine. Seyre was apt to give me a dunk in the pond when I drove him to distraction.”

“Too full of my own dignity, more like. I would have liked to chase you down the stairs, but I felt it beneath a university man.” He smiled deprecatingly. “God knows why I felt it necessary to retain my dignity with you.”