Ducal Encounters 01 - At the Duke's Discretion (26 page)

Reece looked alarmingly pale. “That is not possible. The stone has not left my possession.”

“Then someone has given you a fake.” Crista picked up one of the smaller stones and examined it. “This one is genuine. I can tell immediately.”

“How?” Reece demanded to know.

“It doesn’t show any sign of double refraction, whereas this bigger one does. See for yourself. If you look at the facet junctions from the top side of this smaller stone, you see no signs of double vision. Now look at the bigger one.” She handed Reece her loupe and he fixed it awkwardly to his eye. “Do you see? It is very clear.”

“A real diamond’s reflections usually manifest in various shades of gray. This one has rainbow reflections, which indicate a fake,” Uncle Charles said.

“You two have done something to the real stone,” Reece said, his hands shaking with anger, or fear−Crista couldn’t be certain which.

“How?” Crista responded. “You said yourself, they have not left your person.”

“I don’t know, yet, but you must have done something.”

“Why not weigh the stone if you still doubt my word. Fake stones weight about fifty per cent more than real diamonds.”

“Since I only have your word for how much a real stone of this size ought to weigh, that will not help.”

“All right, since you still appear to doubt us, you can do the ultimate test. Put the stone we have agreed is genuine up to your mouth and breathe over it until it fogs like a mirror. A real diamond disperses the heat instantaneously so by the time you look at it, it has already cleared up.” He did so and it cleared immediately. “Now try the same thing with the fake.”

Reece fell into the nearest chair when the large stone remained cloudy, dropping his head into his splayed hand and shaking it from side to side.

“Someone has played your masters for fools,” Uncle Charles said softly.

“And it better have not been either of you.” Reece lifted his head, scowling in a manner that was probably supposed to intimidate. All Crista could see was Reece’s fear for his own skin. He would be held responsible for this farrago, but she was unable to feel sorry for him.

“I fail to see how it can have anything to do with us,” Uncle Charles said, his voice imbued with a wealth of calm reason. “We have done everything you have asked of us, much as it went against our consciences. We were to be rid of you after this. Why would we risk anything going amiss?”

“Someone has put you up to this.” Reece jutted his chin in a pugnacious manner. “And I shall find out who, never you fear. No one cuts a sham over Edward Reece.”

“What do you wish us to do now?” Crista asked, ignoring the shiver of fear that crept through her when Reece fixed her with a suspicious glare, as though he could see through her clothing to the diamond nestled between her breasts. She suspected at any moment for him to pounce upon her and strip her bare in search of the stone. “I will set the stones, if you ask me to, but anyone paying the amount this buyer is likely to pay will know a false stone when he sees one.”

“I need to take advice.” Reece scooped up the stones, returned them to their box, and placed it in his pocket. “Remain here. I shall not be long.”

Crista and her uncle waited until the door had closed behind Reece and they were sure he had strode away before turning to one another and sharing a relieved smile.

“We did it!” she said, feeling euphoric.

“Quickly, we must get rid of the real stone before he comes back and thinks to search us.”

Crista retrieved it from its hiding place, carefully wrapped it in a velvet cloth and slipped it into a pouch. Uncle Charles opened the back door and glanced cautiously up and down the lane. Several people loitered there, including one of Lord Romsey’s men dressed as a street trader. He walked across to the door when he saw it open, and Crista slipped the stone to him.

“It all went smoothly,” she assured him.

“Aye, and we have a network of people following Reece right now. We shall soon know where he goes.”

“Take good care of that stone. It is worth a king’s ransom.”

“Don’t you worry none, miss. You just get yourself back inside and leave the rest to us.” He doffed his cap and disappeared into the crowd.

“So, Uncle,” Crista said, hugging the old man but feeling strangely deflated now it was all over. “Our part is done.”

***

Reece’s anger quickly gave way to fear as he strode down the main street. It was the busiest time of day, stallholders doing a brisk trade, and it was impossible to tell if he was being followed. How the devil had this happened? He had not once left the stone unprotected, so the original stone must have been a fake. But the people his master dealt with were experts. They would not have been misled. His step faltered when he recalled hiding the stones in his room at the Crown when he went to the Park on the day of the party. But he would stake his life that when he returned, they were exactly as he had left them and had not been interfered with. Still, he better not let on to his master they had been unattended at all. He had been told quite specifically never to let them out of his sight. He would cover his back by explaining what had happened and let others figure out what went wrong.

Images of Crista Brooke kept flashing through his mind. He would bet what few possessions he owned she was involved in some way. But how? She had not touched the stones before today. Even so, there was something different about her. A newfound confidence that made him feel disadvantaged. He had become tired of trying to engage her in conversation when he sat in her workshop and so pretended to read his newspaper. In fact, he kept looking around its sides, directly at her, and she appeared to be constantly smiling today, as though she knew something he did not. He had supposed some man had put that knowing smile on her lips. The thought had filled him with jealousy and rage, but that was nothing compared to the way he felt now. He knew what had happened to her father when he had been foolish enough to cross Reece’s masters. God forbid they should accuse Reece of somehow switching the stones and consign him to a similar fate.

Switching the stones! He stopped dead in his tracks. God’s beard, that is what they must have done, and he had marched out of there without even searching them, and the entire place. What a numbskull! He didn’t know how they had managed it, but Crista had known the size of the stones. She could, with her contacts, have somehow contrived to obtain a fake. Although, he supposed, she would have to go somewhere like London to find someone willing to make it for her. He relaxed when he realised she had had no time to do so. Besides, he had been keeping a constant watch on her and the old man. They had not left Shawford.

Relieved on that score, Reece decided to tell his master he had made a thorough search of them and the workshop. He would never know otherwise, and the deception might just save Reece’s neck. He reached his destination, glanced over his shoulder, and couldn’t see anyone paying any particular attention to him. Taking a deep, calming breath, be wielded the door knocker. He brushed past Mary when she answered his knock, for once not pausing to flirt with her.

“Is he home? I need to speak with him, and it can’t wait.”

Mary shrugged. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

***

Reece went to a house on the edge of the village owned by a man named Mayfield,” Romsey told Amos and Zach. “What can you tell me about him?”

“Not much,” Zach replied. “Do you know him, Amos?”

“Moved here a year or two ago, if memory serves. He’s a middle-aged nabob who made some money in the Indies, according to talk at the Crown. He is a bit of a recluse, by all accounts, and seldom leaves his house.”

“Well, he left it this afternoon shortly after Reece visited him, in a tearing hurry. Took off in his carriage, heading for the Winchester Road. It’s safe to assume he’s heading for London. Shame, I was hoping he’d send an express, which we could have intercepted and seen who it was addressed to.” Romsey stood up and stretched. “Never mind, he can’t make it all the way to London today. He will have to break his journey, and we’ll be on his tail the entire way.”

“What about Reece?” Amos asked. “I don’t want him causing problems for Miss Brooke. By now, he might have figured out a switch was made, or at least suspect it. I won’t have her put in danger, not after all the risks she has taken to help you.”

Zach grinned. “Don’t worry, little brother. I predict Reece’s ale will be tainted with something that will unsettle his belly and see him confined to his bed for the rest of the night.”

“Ah, that’s what you despatched Nate to the Crown to put in hand.”

Zach shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to be thorough.”

“Just so long as he doesn’t get so caught up with Martha he forgets what you sent him there to do.”

“Have a little faith,” Zach said, standing to pour the three of them substantial measures of whisky.

“You must stay away from Miss Brooke until this is all over,” Lord Romsey told Amos.

Amos bridled at his arbitrary tone. “Just a minute, Romsey. Who the devil do you think you’re talking to?”

“Romsey is right,” Zach said mildly as he handed Amos his glass, defusing the tension with his calm yet authoritative stance. “We cannot risk the two of you being seen together. It would be extraordinary enough to attract attention, and you know how the villagers like to gossip, especially in the taproom, where Reece might easily overhear what was being said. You don’t wish to endanger Miss Brooke, I’m sure.”

“No, of course not.” Amos slumped in his chair and moodily sipped at his drink. “But I don’t like the thought of her being exposed to danger.”

“She won’t be,” Romsey replied. “We have Reece under constant watch and the only other person in the village connected with this business is Mayfield, who is now on the road to London.”

“What do you think will happen next?” Zach asked.

“One of two things,” Romsey replied. “First of all, Mayfield will lead us to the person behind all of this. We have to assume he has taken the diamonds with him. He will take them to whoever authenticated them for him. Once he confirms the large stone is a fake, he will assume the switch was made here in Shawford, either by Reece or Chesney. Hopefully, he will return with Mayfield to discover which. We know how important this final transaction is to him, so I’m guessing he will take that chance. If he does not, we will arrest him in London.”

“You ought to do that anyway,” Amos said morosely, “and save Miss Brooke from further danger.”

“No one will get near her,” Romsey said, enunciating each word clearly. “But it is better for us if the ringleader comes down here, then there can be no doubt about his culpability, and no opportunity for him to slip the net. He’s a well-connected cove, and if he realises he’s been rumbled, there’s no telling what plans he has in place for a quick exit from the country.”

“The day after tomorrow, Amos,” Zach said. “That will see an end to this business.”

Unable to fault their logic, Amos nodded, wondering why he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he thought of Crista with only an old man inside the house to protect her.

Reece, it transpired, had underestimated many things about Mayfield, especially the violence of his temper. Stern yet mild-mannered, Reece had always respected his guile, his amoral character, but had never felt afraid of him. Reece was a good twenty years younger and considerably stronger than Mayfield, who had become lazy and allowed himself to run to fat in his later years. Since Mayfield trusted him, Reece had no reason to fear him because what had happened with the diamond was beyond his control. He went to his home, knowing he must be told at once. He felt apprehensive but unafraid to admit to the truth, only to see a very different side to Mayfield when he did so.

“What’s this you tell me?”

Mayfield leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over without appearing to notice. His face drained of all colour, except for the network of ugly protruding blue veins decorating his nose. His breath came out in short, angry hisses, and he actually backhanded Reece’s face so viciously he cut his lip and left a bruise on his cheek.

“You fool!” he said. “I told you never to leave the diamonds unattended. Someone got to them and made a switch.”

“They cannot have done so,” Reece replied, staunching the flow of blood from his lip with his handkerchief. “I have had them with me all the time.”

“Are you sure you didn’t get insensible with ale, or allowed some floosy to distract you?”

“Perfectly sure.”

“Then it must have been you who pulled a fast one.”

“Me!” Reece shook his head. “I would not know how to begin. Besides, why would I be so stupid? I am being well paid for serving you−”

“Huh, if you still expect payment after making such a mull out of a simple assignment, then you are deluded.” Mayfield snarled the words, his face now stained a deep, ugly red, a nerve working beneath his left eye. “You will be fortunate to escape with your life.”

“The mistake must have been made in London, sir,” Reece said, feeling suddenly very afraid. “The switch must have been made there, accidentally or deliberately.”

“How do we know a mistake has actually been made?” Mayfield drummed his fingers on the surface of his desk and glowered at Reece. “Can you tell a real diamond from a fake?”

“No, sir, but the girl and her uncle can. Why would they lie when they know this is the last commission we require from them?”

Mayfield snorted. “Perhaps they are not as gullible as you appear to be and realise we would never give up on such prime and lucrative source of workmanship.”

“Even so, I don’t see how they could have obtained a fake stone. Besides, I searched them and the workshop and was watching them the entire time when I gave them the stones. If they had made a switch, I would have noticed.”

“You had better hope, for the sake of your own neck, that is the case.” Mayfield lumbered to his feet and grabbed the box containing the diamonds. “Stay here at the Crown and keep a close eye on the girl and her uncle. I must go to London and try to make sense of this farrago.” He looked less than enamoured at the prospect. “Your fate is in the hands of others, but if I have any say in the matter, your inefficiency will be dealt with swiftly and ruthlessly.”