A Marquis to Marry (30 page)

“Yes, I’ve heard that story, too. And with all the pearls he has, it could be true. I am not worried about any supposed danger right now.”

“I will do it for you.”

That startled Susannah. “What? Mrs. Princeton, I cannot let you do that.”

“My reputation does not matter, but yours does. I will search his bedchamber for you.”

Susannah’s heart softened and she smiled gratefully at her devoted companion. “I cannot let you do that, but you can help me by keeping the captain occupied while I search.”

“How can I do that? He will have no desire to speak to a gray-haired companion.”

“Perhaps you can gain his attention by fainting or pretending you are drunk and making a fool of yourself.”

Mrs. Princeton gasped and her back stiffened.

Susannah smiled at her prudish companion. She was willing to break the law for her but not pretend to be drunk!

“If you don’t like my suggestions, I will leave it up to you as to how you keep him occupied long enough for me to scour his bedchamber.”

Mrs. Princeton’s eyes narrowed, and concern etched its way across her face. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Mrs. Princeton, my life might very well depend on your acting abilities.” Susannah didn’t enjoy being so forceful, but she truly had no choice if she was going to find the pearls for her mother.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Thank you. Now, would you please see to it that the letter gets on its way to my mother? I’m going to go practice my music and prepare myself for what I have to do.”

Race’s lids fluttered open to the bright light of day and a banging inside his head. He rolled over and slung the sheet aside, revealing that he’d gone to bed again in his trousers rather than his nightshirt. He rubbed his forehead and then his temples. What happened to him last night? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so deep in his cups that he woke with a headache.

He’d given up heavy drinking years ago, but after his frustrating meeting with Bickerman yesterday, he failed to watch the amount of wine he consumed throughout the evening. Bickerman’s runner had searched Winston’s and Spyglass’s homes and Smith’s shop and house and had not found the pearls.

Bickerman explained to Race that he was working on a plan to search Spyglass’s ship, but that would take more time and expertise, because the
Golden Pearl
was never left unattended.

Race lay on his back with his forearms covering his eyes. Was that music he heard? Yes, lovely, soothing pianoforte music.

Susannah.

He could wake up to that sweet sound every morning. Suddenly he bolted up in bed and looked at his window. It was open only a little, but everything was so still and quiet in his room that he heard the music drifting in from Susannah’s house.

Just the thought of her aroused him.

Why was she playing the pianoforte so early in the morning? He glanced over at the clock on the mantel. It wasn’t that early. It was already afternoon.

He rose and went to the window to look out. The bright sun hurt his over-indulged eyes. The sky was cloudless and as blue as any sapphire he’d ever seen. He pushed the window up as far as it would go and inhaled the fresh air. He propped his hands on the windowsill and listened. The melody drifted across the air into his room, pleasing him, soothing his banging temples.

Race stared at the back of Susannah’s house and longed to see her, to touch her, to press his body to hers and sink inside her once again.

Race squeezed his eyes shut. After the way he had treated her, he wasn’t surprised she hated him and never wanted to be with him again. He had been a rake, a scoundrel, an idiot of the highest order. He knew that. What had made him overreact and assume she had something to do with the theft? Was it because he was trying to counter how she made him feel? And how was he going to make it up to her for the way he had treated her?

That night at Lord Kendrickson’s party, she had made him painfully aware of two things. One, if she had the pearls, she would have already left and taken them to her ill mother. Two, he ached to be in her good graces again. Not only had his night in her bed been the most extraordinary of his life, but he enjoyed talking to her, looking at her, and just being with her. He wanted to walk in the park with her, dance with her, and make love to her again.

The music continued to drift in as he shaved, washed, and dressed. Many times over the past few days, he’d thought about going through the hedge to see Susannah and ask her to forgive him but stopped himself every time. She had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to see him, and he didn’t blame her, but he was tired of her rules. From now on, he was taking over. He was not without charms, and he was going to use them to woo her back into his life and into his arms.

And he knew a good place to start.

He walked over to a small chest and opened the top drawer and took out a sheet of vellum, a quill, and a jar of ink. After dipping the tip of the quill into the ink, he quickly wrote:

I want to see you.

“No,” he muttered to himself. He had already written that to her. He crumpled the paper and threw it to the floor.

He tried again but didn’t like the second any better than the first and that sheet of vellum landed on the floor, too. He looked at the blank paper, searched his heart and wrote:

I’m sorry.

Race

When Susannah and Mrs. Princeton arrived at Captain Spyglass’s home on Saturday night, Susannah told Benson to stay with their carriage and not leave it for any reason. If, by some stroke of luck, she managed to find the pearls, she wanted to be able to leave quickly. The chatter coming from the crowd on the first floor was loud and boisterous as they left their wraps with the servants on the ground floor. They quietly made their way above stairs and walked into the crush of elegantly dressed people.

Candlelight threw shadows all around the room as Susannah nodded, smiled, and said good evening to first one person and then another as she moved through the shoulder-to-shoulder throng. Her dutiful companion followed tightly in her footsteps, looking as nervous as a cat facing a hound.

She stopped and spoke with the charming Constance Pepperfield about which day would be good to go with Henrietta to the park. She bumped into the dashing Sir Randolph Gibson, whose hands looked completely normal for a change. His spirits about his upcoming victory were still buoyant, and all he wanted to talk about was his highly publicized fight.

As the evening wore on, she spent more time than she wanted to with Lord Snellingly, who once again asked if he could read poetry while she played the pianoforte for him. From a distance, she saw Lord Martin and Race’s cousin, Lord Morgandale, but she hadn’t caught sight of Race. She wasn’t surprised he had decided not to attend a party given by one of the men he thought might have stolen the pearls. But she had to admit to herself that she had hoped he would be present.

Race was back to writing her short, concise notes which thrilled her. She eagerly looked forward to them so much that she carried the last one he sent her in the beaded reticule that swung from her wrist. She liked the fact that he was reminding her he was around, but he wasn’t pushing her to see him.

Susannah didn’t let anyone hold her up for long as she continued to walk around the ground and first floors of the house, making a mental note of all the closed doors, until she came face-to-face with her host and prey, Captain Spyglass.

He bowed and kissed her hand. At first glance, she didn’t think he was wearing any pearls, but then she noticed multiple strands of pearls had been attached like fringe to the ends of his neckcloth. He was a master at creating a new way to wear pearls.

“Your Grace, I am pleased you have honored me with your presence on this night, when there are so many other wonderful parties to attend.”

Susannah smiled at him and realized she felt no guilt about what she had to do. “Nonsense,” she said. “I’m delighted to be here. You must know everyone in the ton coveted an invitation to your party.”

He beamed. His thin dark mustache and tanned skin made his teeth seem exceptionally white. For all of his exotic appearance, he was a handsome man.

“You are most gracious. Come, let me get you a glass of champagne.”

“Thank you,” she said easily and walked beside him toward the champagne table. “I’ve heard you have a vast pearl collection.”

He laughed. “Yes, rumors abound about my pearls. I treasure every one, and I probably do have the largest collection in the world. People say to me ‘why pearls?’ And I say why not pearls?”

“Tell me, do you ever allow anyone to see your collection?”

He chuckled lightly and rubbed his hand over his chin. “Not very often, I’m afraid, but I have been persuaded to on a few occasions. Why? Would you like an invitation to see my collection, Duchess?”

She glanced over at him, not wanting to appear too eager. “I can’t imagine a woman would not want to see it.”

“Then, perhaps, one day I will invite you.”

“I’ll look forward to that,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Susannah continued to talk with the Captain for a few more minutes and then excused herself. She felt her best chance of being unobserved was while there were many people in the house. Once the crowd started thinning to go on to the Great Hall or other parties, it would be more likely that she would be noticed in an area of the house where she shouldn’t be.

She had no fear for her own safety. At this point, finding the pearls was the only thing that mattered.

In a corridor on the first floor, Susannah stopped a young servant who was carrying a tray of glasses. Her hair, eyes, and skin were as dark as Captain Spyglass’s. “Excuse me,” Susannah said. “Can you tell me where the ladies’ retiring room is located?”

The nervous young woman said, “The first door on the right at the top of the stairs on the second floor.”

Susannah smiled pleasantly and said, “Thank you. I wanted to make sure I didn’t go into the wrong room. It would have been dreadful if I had accidentally gone into the master of the house’s bedchamber.”

The young woman smiled again and said, “Oh, you couldn’t do that. His room is on the ground floor, and he keeps it locked. The Captain has a bad knee and doesn’t like to climb the stairs any more than necessary.”

Susannah’s spirits fell like lead in water.

Locked!

But just as she thought all hope of searching his room had vanished, Susannah caught sight of a key ring peeking out of the edge of the servant’s apron pocket. Susannah knew she had to get that key ring.

With no time for further thought, she said, “Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” She started to walk past the servant but instead, pretended to stumble and knocked the tray of glasses out of the young woman’s hands. They fell to the floor with a horrible crash, breaking most of them.

Susannah quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard or seen the commotion. The servant immediately dropped to the floor to pick up the broken glass. The roar of the chatter from the crowd must have muffled the shattering glass, because no one came running.

“I’m so sorry,” Susannah said, bending down to help the young woman pick up the broken pieces. “That was very clumsy of me.”

“Please, don’t help me,” the servant said.