Stolen Love (32 page)

"Exonerated?" Elizabeth repeated. "Do you mean to say you still suspect Nicholas of being the Mayfair Thief?"

"Mrs. Villines, it is my job to ask questions, however unpleasant their implications may be."

"I know my husband, and I assure you he is not the Mayfair Thief. I would know it if he were. Why should Nicholas steal anything at all? There were scores of people at Lord Lewesfield's ball, Mr. Johns, any one of whom probably had more reason than Nicholas to steal the silver, let alone Lady Lewesfield's emeralds. It's not as though he's in need of money, for he has plenty of it, as I'm sure his banker will attest. And if he were in debt, his uncle or his grandfather the viscount would not hesitate to pay it off."

"I do not believe the emeralds were stolen simply for their value in pounds."

"Why else would someone take such a risk?"

Johns shrugged. "For the challenge. To taunt the police, perhaps."

"That is quite enough," Nicholas said heatedly. "I won't have you trying to poison my wife against me."

Mr. Baker's return with the jewelry box silenced both men. Nicholas put a hand on Elizabeth's arm when she started to open it. "Don't, Elizabeth."

"Why not, Mr. Villines?" Johns asked.

"Because it isn't necessary." He returned Johns's gaze. "I'm not the Mayfair Thief, but if I were, the necklace, whether in there or not, proves nothing."

"I think not, Mr. Villines. Its absence will prove your wife has told me a falsehood. In that case, one must wonder why she would lie." He looked at Elizabeth, a quizzical expression coming over his face. "Is it possible you know?" he asked incredulously. Johns reached across the table and pulled the box toward him.

Elizabeth prevented Nicholas from taking the box from Johns. "The time for secrets is past," she said softly.

Fascinated, he watched the detective open the jewelry box and begin searching the contents. Johns made an involuntary exclamation, then held up a delicate chain with a plain gold band suspended from it. "Did you not say this was broken, Mrs. Villines?"

"The chain is new. The ring, however, is not. If you look, you will see it is engraved with my mother's name."

He placed the necklace on the table, and sat silently, his gaze moving from Nicholas, to Elizabeth, to the necklace. Lifting his hands in a gesture that might have been one of defeat, he sighed, then rose. "I bid you good day, Mr. Villines, Mrs. Villines."

"Baker will see you out," Elizabeth said.

Nicholas said nothing until Elizabeth had put the necklace back. "I thought I'd lost it." He stepped toward her.

"I found it that night at Witchford Runs." She avoided his embrace, instead sitting down on the sofa and staring at him.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly fearful because of what he saw in her gray eyes.

She spoke in a subdued voice. "I've wondered since then what other things you haven't told me."

"What do you mean, Elizabeth?"

"Have you lied about loving me?" She glanced down. "Did you marry me to keep me from telling what I know about the ball?"

"I married you because I love you, you must know that."

Her hands clutched the edges of the sofa. "How am I to be sure?" she asked bitterly.

He was momentarily at a loss. "Because I told you so at the ball," he said. "In Lady Lewesfield's room."

"So you did."

"And a hundred times since then." He went to her, pulling her up and into his arms. "You are my life. I should have trusted you with it long before this." He put his hands on either side of her face, staring into her eyes. "You were right, Elizabeth, there should be no secrets between us. But I was afraid you would leave me if you knew."

"Never, Nicholas."

"Can you forgive me for being such a fool?"

"There is nothing to forgive," she murmured. She melted against him. After a long while, she pushed him gently away. "Nicholas, there's something I must know."

"What is it?"

"Who wrote the letters, if it wasn't you?"

He smiled a little. "Chester." He pulled her into his arms again.

She put her hands on his chest. "What of the emeralds?"

"Disposed of long ago."

"And the Mayfair Thief?" she asked, resisting his embrace. "What's to become of him?"

"There's no such person anymore, Elizabeth. He's ceased to exist."

"Are you sure?"

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Very."

"Then I think my life must be perfect." She smiled her most bewitching smile. "Come with me, Nicholas." She led him to their bedroom, closing the door gently after her. "I went to Tavistock Square this afternoon, and brought this back." She pointed to the table where
vanda cerulea
sat, one blue flower arching slightly toward the window.

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