Beyond Compare (7 page)

Rafe set the bag down on a table near the door, and Kyria opened the drawstring and reached in, pulling out a hard, squarish object wrapped in velvet. Carefully, she unwrapped the velvet to reveal a small box. She could not help but let out a small cry of delight.

The box was ivory, with a curved lid rather like a very small trunk. All around the box were intricately carved patterns and what looked like some sort of fig
ures. Its crowning glory, however, was a huge dark gem, crudely cut and unfaceted, that was set into the center of one side of the box.

“It’s beautiful!” Kyria exclaimed, picking up the box and looking at it closely. She ran a fingertip over the carvings, then over the almost-black gem, peering closely at it. There was something compelling about the box, a beauty that drew her.

Rafe moved nearer to see it, coming up so close behind Kyria that he was almost touching her. Kyria swallowed, very aware of his presence. She could smell again the scent of him, feel the warmth of his body, and it seemed as if all her nerve endings were suddenly alive and tingling, as if they could reach across the inch that separated them and touch Rafe.

“What is that?” he asked. “Is it glass?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kyria replied, smoothing her fingertip over the jewel. “I think it is a black diamond. It’s very rare.”

“A diamond?” Rafe asked in amazement. “They come in colors?”

Kyria nodded. “There are yellow diamonds and brown ones, blue ones, even pink. Black diamonds are unusual, though, and they are often found in areas where one doesn’t normally find diamonds. Primarily they come from Brazil and parts of Africa. This one is huge, which is, of course, extremely rare.”

Rafe looked at her, intrigued. “You certainly seem to know a lot about diamonds.”

Kyria gave a self-conscious laugh. “Well, jewelry is an interest of mine. It is a little frivolous, but…” She shrugged. “I love the beauty of gems and precious metals.”

“Beauty isn’t frivolous,” Rafe replied, his gaze rest
ing on her face. “Beauty is what humans have always strived for. In art, in music, architecture—and jewelry.”

Kyria smiled faintly. “Yes, but jewels and dresses are not exactly serious. Not like science, say, or the treatment of workers or the vote for women.”

“Ah, I see. Like the things that some of your family are involved in.”

Kyria nodded. “I fear my mother sometimes finds me rather shallow. Thisbe looks for great discoveries. Theo explores uncharted territories.” She shrugged. “I design necklaces and earrings.”

“Do you really?”

Kyria nodded. “I designed the pearl necklace Olivia wore today. It was made from an old necklace that had been in the family for generations, but it was much too old-fashioned to wear. So I had the pearls reset.”

“I noticed it,” Rafe said. “I thought it was beautiful. You are very talented.”

Kyria smiled, a blush staining her cheeks. “I’m not really. It’s just something I dabble in. There is a jeweler in London who does all the work for me.”

“But the design was lovely to begin with. He could not have done the work without your idea.”

Kyria had received compliments before on her jewelry, but rarely had she admitted to anyone outside her family that she had designed a piece. Society, she knew, would have found it another oddity in her, no matter how attractive they thought the jewelry was. Jewelry-making was not a suitable occupation for a member of the nobility. In fact, society found no occupation suitable for a noblewoman. And while her family always praised the pieces she had made, she felt sure, deep down, that they considered it pretty, but not
important in the way that the matters that occupied other members of her family were important.

She was faintly surprised that she had told Rafe about her hobby, and she suspected that she probably would not have if her nerves had not been shaken by what had happened. She was also a little surprised that it pleased her so that Rafe liked her work. She was accustomed to men complimenting her looks, but not something she had done.

“I designed the necklace for myself originally,” she went on. “But then I realized that it would suit Olivia much better. The pearls have such a soft luster, and they are, of course, perfect for a wedding.”

Rafe smiled, and his eyes drifted over Kyria’s face. “You are right. Pearls would not suit you. Not brilliant enough. You are a woman for diamonds.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Or maybe emeralds to match your eyes.”

A shiver ran through Kyria at the touch of his skin on hers. She looked up at him, her face only inches from his. She gazed into his eyes, unable to look away, aware of her breath coming faster in her throat. She could feel the heat of his body. She remembered the feel of his shirt beneath her cheek, the warmth and comfort as his arms enfolded her. But the warmth she was feeling now had little to do with comfort.

He wanted to kiss her now, she knew. Kyria had dealt with men trying to steal kisses from her before. She was adept at stepping back or turning her cheek, making a light remark that changed the moment. But she made no move to do any of those things, simply stood gazing up at Rafe, feeling her blood move with sudden heat through her veins. She wanted to kiss him,
wanted to feel his lips on hers with an excitement that fizzed along her nerves like champagne.

His hands went to her arms, first wrapping lightly around her wrists, then sliding slowly up her arms. She shivered again at the feel of his hands, faintly roughened, gliding over her soft flesh. His hands reached her shoulders and tightened, pulling her into him as he bent toward her. Kyria knew she should have protested, should have drawn back, but she did not. She let him draw her to him, turning her face up to his.

His mouth settled on hers, slow and soft, his lips moving against hers with an increasing urgency. Kyria’s heart slammed in her chest. She had been kissed a few times by eager suitors, but never before had it felt like this. Never before had she wanted to press against him as she did now, nor had her hands slid up to his chest and dug into his lapels, holding on under the onslaught of pleasure.

He made a noise deep in his throat as she leaned into him, and his arms slipped around her, pulling her tightly against his rock-hard body. She felt the strength of his muscles through their clothes, their bodies locked together all the way up and down. She slid her arms up and around his neck, holding on tightly as his mouth took hers.

“Kyria!” Her father’s voice sounded down the hall, calling her.

Kyria stiffened and stepped abruptly back. Rafe’s arms opened, letting her go, and for an instant they simply stood staring at each other, shocked by the intensity of what they had just experienced. Kyria drew a shaky breath and turned away, her hands going to her burning cheeks.

“Kyria? Are you down this way?” The duke’s voice came again as his footsteps rang down the hall.

Kyria cleared her throat and said, “Yes, Papa. I’m in here.”

She reached up to pat her hair, hoping that she did not look as stunned and flushed as she felt. She started toward the door just as her father stopped at the door and peered into the room.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he said, smiling benignly and stepping into the room. “Smeggars said he thought you went this way. Your mother sent me. She said to tell you to come help Olivia. She’s gone up to change into her traveling clothes. What are you—Oh!”

He stopped, his eye caught by the small white box on the table. He approached it, intrigued, and picked it up carefully. “I say—what a beautiful artifact! Where did you get it? Byzantine, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Kyria asked, as she and Rafe moved to where the duke stood admiring the ivory box.

“Oh, yes, I think so. Not my specialty, of course.” He turned toward Rafe, saying in explanation, “I am much fonder of the earlier Roman Empire, you know, and even earlier—the Greek, Etruscan, Cretan. I don’t really know a great deal about the later empire. But I would definitely say that it looks like Byzantine work.”

He ran his finger over the rounded top, easily distracted from his mission, as he always was by any ancient object. “This style, like a humpbacked trunk, is typical of the Byzantines, as is the carved ivory. Not as beautiful as their cloisonné work, in my opinion, which was really quite phenomenal, given the times. I would hazard a guess that this was done before the height of their art. This glass is unusual, though. Typically, they used carnelian and turquoise.”

“I don’t think it is glass, Papa. I believe it is a black diamond, just unfaceted.”

“Really?” He looked up from the box, surprised. “Black diamond, eh? Never seen one.”

“Neither have I,” Rafe told him. “But your daughter seems to know her jewels.”

“Oh, my, yes.” Broughton chuckled and cast a glance of affection at his daughter. “That’s my Kyria. Well, well, my dear, this is very interesting. I would say it is quite a special piece, given the intricacy of the carving and the rarity of the jewel. Of course, they wouldn’t have been able to facet it back then.” He pushed at the top of the box. “That’s odd.”

“What is?” Kyria asked.

“I thought it would open,” her father replied. “It certainly looks like a box, but it doesn’t seem to have a lid, or at least, one that will open.”

“Really?” Kyria took the box and examined it closely. “I can’t see any line of separation, but with all this carving, it could easily be hidden.”

“Surely it’s not solid,” Rafe put in. “It doesn’t seem heavy enough.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” the duke agreed. “It must open. There must be some hidden catch or something.”

“Is that typical of Byzantine artifacts?” Rafe asked.

Broughton shrugged. “Frankly, dear chap, I don’t know. You would need an expert in the field. Someone like Dr. Jennings or…who else? Dr. Atkinson. Early Eastern religious art is one of his specialties, if I remember correctly. Perhaps Uncle Bellard knows someone else.”

“How old are we talking about here?” Rafe asked. “If I remember my history correctly, the Byzantine
Empire was during the time of Constantine and Justinian. Am I right?”

The duke nodded. “Yes, I would say sometime after
A.D.
500 and before the Turks, say, 1400 or so. I’d lean toward the earlier time rather than the later, say, before
A.D.
1000. Of course, you would have to talk to an expert in the field. How did you come by it, Kyria? I had no idea you had an interest in artifacts.”

“I don’t. I mean, I think it’s beautiful, but I don’t know anything about it. I had no idea how old it was or where it came from until you told me just now,” Kyria replied. “I don’t know where it came from. A man came to the house tonight. Papa, it was awful. He was attacked as he approached the house, and he was killed.”

“Killed!” Broughton exclaimed, staring at Kyria, then turning toward Rafe.

“I saw it happen,” Rafe told him. “I chased the attacker off and brought the man inside, but he died soon thereafter.”

“Sweet heaven! What a shocking thing!”

“I told Smeggars not to tell anyone about it,” Kyria explained. “I don’t want Olivia and Stephen to know. I don’t want anything to spoil Olivia’s wedding day.”

“No, of course not. You’re quite right, my dear.” The duke set the box on the table, then sat on the nearest chair. “This is terrible. Who was he? And what does he have to do with this box?”

“The man had it on him,” Rafe explained. “He was carrying it in a bag that he had tied around his waist. Obviously, it was very important to him. And apparently he was bringing it to Lady Kyria.”

“Kyria! But why?”

“I don’t know.” Rafe told him the man’s dying
words. “I assume that he must have been coming here to deliver that box to her.”

“But who would send you something like that, Kyria? Why?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The only thing I can think is that it is from Theo.”

“Theo! Well, I suppose that would make some sense,” her father agreed.

Kyria turned to Rafe. “Theo is my oldest brother, Thisbe’s twin. He travels all over the world, and he often sends presents home, particularly for Con and Alex. With them, it’s usually exotic animals, but he has sent other things that caught his eye—some piece of native art or a gem or something. He sent Mother a lovely paisley shawl from India, and he sent Reed that abacus, you remember, Papa?”

The duke nodded vaguely. “Yes. Although I wouldn’t have thought that he would have sent something so ancient. He and I had rather an argument about that the last time he was here, you know. He had become quite adamant about a country’s ancient treasures remaining in that country rather than being taken abroad for study. Of course, I am against the practice of destroying ancient sites to remove the treasures to sell. But on the other hand, one cannot simply stand by and watch those artifacts turn into rubble, can one? Inattention, lack of care, lack of money…” The duke frowned, his face reddening as he recalled the argument.

“I am sure Theo agrees with that,” Kyria said soothingly. “He would not want to see anything bad happen to an ancient treasure. Perhaps that was the case with this one. Maybe that is why he sent it here.”

“Sir, I don’t want to interfere here,” Rafe began,
“but I can’t help remembering how that box got here. That the fellow carrying it was attacked and killed. His attacker bent over him after he stabbed him, and he didn’t run away until he saw me running at him. I can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t after that box. If maybe that box is the reason he killed him.”