Come the Dawn (26 page)

“What do you know about l’Aurore?” Devlyn said grimly.

“Coupled with the Sancy and the Condé in the hands of one collector, the three stones would be beyond price. Certainly enough to raise armies and sway the destiny of Europe.” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I believe l’Aurore was once in the possession of the Dey of Algiers. He personally slit the throats of two of his own brothers to acquire it. I can only wonder how the stone came into Napoleon’s keeping.”

“You seem to know a great deal,” Thorne muttered.

Connor shrugged. “I hear many things. Such information is helpful to me in my business.”

“And just what sort of business is that, MacKinnon?”

“Gold, jewels, silks, and spices. I even deal in English woolens on occasion. My ships cover most of the globe and through their captains I collect information of all sorts.”

“Such as?”

Connor smiled thinly. “Such as rumors that Napoleon’s private treasure of jewels is about to be smuggled into England as ransom for his freedom.”

Thorne frowned at the broad-shouldered warrior who had become famed for his exotic fighting techniques. “I think you know far too much, MacKinnon. Where would your loyalties lie if it came to a choice between Napoleon and the interests of England?”

There was absolutely no expression to be read in Connor’s face. “My loyalties are … complicated. My blood must make it so. My background is part Manchu, part French, and part Scots, you see. But before you get your hackles up, Thornwood, let me point out that my greatest loyalty is to my friends, of which Luc Delamere is the oldest. You may count on my help in this affair, not because of patriotic zeal but because I shall do everything in my power to protect India.” His lips twitched for a moment. “And because Napoleon was always very, very bad for business.”

“He was bad for more than business,” Thorne said flatly. “Have you heard where these jewels are to be brought into England?”

“Not yet. I was lucky to find out what little I did. These men practice a hard code and any mistakes are repaid with instant death. That’s why I won’t have Luc’s sister involved, Thornwood. Men who would attempt such a scheme must be desperate.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Devlyn turned to pace the room angrily. “But I must find out why that wretched jewel was at Vauxhall and how it came into India’s possession.” He looked at Connor. “I could lose my head for telling you any of this, you know. Wellington was most explicit about that. Are you to be trusted?”

“Sometimes.” Connor smiled faintly. “Especially when family or friends are involved.” He studied Thorne for a moment. “You’re head over heels for her, aren’t you?”

“Is it so obvious? “ Thorne ran his fingers through his hair, frowning. “I
should
deny it. The woman’s turned my life upside down since the first moment I set eyes on her. She’s reckless, impossible, infuriating. And yet—”

“And yet you cannot live without her,” Connor finished softly.

Devlyn sighed. “I can’t keep my mind on my duties. I can’t think straight half the time. It’s India that fills my head, not the mission I’ve sworn to complete.”

Connor smiled. “A pathetic case, to be sure.”

“Sometimes I think it would be better if we’d never met. Then I think of all I’d have missed — the laughter, the reckless adventures.” Devlyn laughed shakily. “As you can see, a truly
pathetic
case.” He shook his head. “But why is she interested in jewelers?”

“No doubt she means to use that gemstone as a calling card. Since she can’t find your enemies, she means to lure them out after
her.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting
her,
blast it! How does she always manage to stay one step ahead of me?”

“She’s a Delamere, my friend. They live by different rules.” Connor’s eyes gleamed for a moment as he recalled several of Luc’s past exploits. “It’s no good arguing with a Delamere. They make the very best friends — and the very worst of enemies. But India is in gravest danger. Every cutthroat in London will be after her when they find out she has l’Aurore, and no jeweler of repute would dream of handling it, since it’s far too easily identified.”

“I was thinking that myself,” Thorne said grimly. “You said she was to meet you here at two o’clock? I’d give a king’s ransom to know where she went.”

“I might be of some help,” Connor said. “If you’ll tell me about this mission of yours.”

“I’m under explicit orders to act in utter secrecy. There have already been too many leaks.” Thorne cursed. “Orders be damned! Where do you think she went?”

“Knowing India, she could have set off by hot air balloon for the mountain kingdom of Tibet. But I trust that between us we can track her down closer to home. I was told that her groom was with her, at least.”

“That doesn’t reassure me.” Thorne glared out at the garden at the back of Devonham House. “No doubt India has the poor man wrapped around her finger like the rest of us.”

Connor studied Thorne for a moment. “She’ll lead you a merry dance, my friend. She will give you no peace, no rest. And probably more joy than you thought life could ever hold. You are a fortunate man.”

Thorne gave a lopsided smile. He had already begun to suspect something of the sort himself. And at that moment the Earl of Thornwood would have given a great deal to see India’s stubborn, irritating, and utterly beautiful face before him, instead of being torn apart with worry about her safety.

~ ~ ~

The sun was nearly lost behind the rooftops when India finally found her way to the narrow shop sign that read Parrish Brothers, Fine Jewels and Curiosities.’

A crowd of men lounged noisily in the alley beside the shop, in the company of two women who were definitely not ladies. Occasionally a carriage sped past, but none of them stopped outside the grimy windows of Parrish Brothers. Only twice did someone enter the shop, each time a man with rumpled clothing and cunning eyes.

India looked uncertainly at her tough-faced old groom, whom she had persuaded to accompany her on this unorthodox mission. “Well, Froggett, what do you think?”

“I think, Miss India, that those breeches of Ian’s are very near the most ill-fitting piece of clothing I’ve ever clapped eyes on.”

“Not about my breeches, Froggett. About Parrish Brothers.”

“Looks havey-cavey to me.” The old groom crossed his arms defiantly. “And if you think I’m letting
you
stroll into that den of thieves, then you are sorely mistaken. And so will your backside be.”

“I rather think you’re right, Froggett. It does not look like an entirely respectable place of business, I think. But that is the last shop I know of. What am I to do if—”

At that moment the proprietor of Montagu’s pounded up behind her, puffing loudly. “My lord — so glad to have — have found you in time—” Pulling at his waistcoat, the jeweler stopped beside India and caught his breath. His face was a sickly gray after his exertions. “I felt it my duty to warn you about Parrish Brothers. Not at all respectable, you see. In fact, should they set eyes on that jewel which you showed me, it would go very hard with you.” He shook his head expressively and ran a finger across his neck.

“That’s the end of this,” Froggett said curtly. “We’ll consider the business over and done with and be making our way back home, in that case.”

“But there
is
one more possibility,” Montagu said quickly. “Nothing fancy you understand, but perhaps it will be of use to you. There is a man who is most unusual, but he pays the highest prices for quality merchandise. You will find him east of London, in a small town called Evesham, not far from the Thames. He is called the Frenchman, but I know nothing more about him. No one does, in fact. But he pays and pays well, and the word is that he is especially looking for rare diamonds these days. You will have to be careful, however, for bands of ruffians work that area of the river.”

India felt excitement race through her. Could this Frenchman be the man who had lost the diamond?

Maybe he was the man who had attacked Alexis at Vauxhall? “It is very good of you to tell me,” she said crisply. “And now, Froggett, we must—”

“Just what manner of tradesman is this Frenchman?” the groom demanded. “I’ve never heard of any banker conducting business in a village on the banks of the Thames.”

Montagu shook his head. “Oh, the Frenchman’s no banker. Not a jeweler either. He is whispered to be many things, you understand, and it is not precisely healthy to speculate about his past. But he will not harm you unless you attempt to trick him, and I am sure a gentleman of your obvious quality would never attempt to do that.”

The more India heard, the more she was certain that
this
was the clue she had been waiting for. She dug into her pocket and tossed Montagu a half crown for his help. “My dear Montagu,” she said lazily, “I assure you that trickery is the very
last
thing on my mind. In fact, I am as honest as my name is Edward Fairchild, cousin of Lady India Delamere.”

Beside her Froggett broke into a fit of hoarse coughing.

“It is not a great distance from London,” Montagu said, politely ignoring the groom, who was having trouble recovering his composure. He pocketed the half crown and bowed. “A word of caution, however. Keep the nature of your business to yourself. There are those who are not so scrupulous about how they would possess such a jewel. And now I must return to my shop. My broth will be gone cold.”

Froggett watched the man hurry back down the street. “She won’t listen to nobody. I don’t expect she’ll start listening to
you
either,” he muttered.

“Remember your rheumatism, Froggett,” India said absently. When she grabbed the groom’s arm and pulled him back toward Devonham House, she was already hatching a plan for their upcoming ride to a little village called Evesham.

~ ~ ~

Two hours later India sat her white gelding, looking at the whole of London spread below them to the south. “It’s a fine evening for a ride, don’t you think?”

“A fine night to die by a cutthroat’s knife,” the old groom said gloomily. “Should never ha’ let you talk me into this madness.”