Reluctant Bride (8 page)

I went upstairs to get Mitzi. My aunt had decided to remain in the private parlor while we walked the dog. She would finish her coffee at leisure, lucky aunt. Whom should I run into in the lobby but Colonel Fortescue! We greeted each other as long lost friends.

“What a small world it is! Miss Braden—delightful to meet you again. I was wrong to accuse Fate of perversity, was I not?” The colonel was in evening clothes, looking criminally attractive. I felt the strongest urge to drag him into the parlor to meet Blount, to show him how a proper gentleman looked and behaved.

“Colonel Fortescue! Did you get your watch back?” Glancing to his waistcoat, I saw by the chain he had. He was resourceful on top of all the rest.

“Certainly I did. You heard of it at the inn in Devizes?”

“Heard of it? Oh, you don’t know, Colonel! I too was robbed.” I outlined my ill-fated tale to him. He was hot in his sympathy. Somehow or other, he got hold of my hands, squeezed them tightly. “If only I had
known!
To think, I had the culprit right in my hands, and let him go. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“The best help you can give is to tell me where you found your watch. Did you meet the fellow as he got off the coach?”

“I did. I arrived in advance of him.”

“Was he not taken into custody?”

“Alas, no! Had I had the least notion what a wretched fellow he is, I would have done it. But I felt sorry for the poor devil. Only a drifter. I arranged the business quietly with him, got my watch, and let him off with a warning.”

“You are too soft-hearted.”

“Foolishly kind, as it turns out. I feel as guilty as though I had robbed you of your diamonds myself. How can I assist you?”

“You don’t happen to know where the scoundrel is headed?”

“I only know he darted down the street as fast as his spindly legs would carry him. Probably had a customer waiting for your hot stones. I insist on helping you. I am yours to command, Miss Braden.” He stopped suddenly, striking his forehead with his fingers, rather like a salute. “Oh, dear. The trouble is, I am
not
free to help you. I must be in London before morning. I was about to climb into my curricle this very minute and get back on the road.”

“That is a pity, but the gentleman who caused my accident is giving every assistance. Have you time to step into the parlor yonder and make his acquaintance?”

“I wish I had, but this business of my watch has held me up so long. I have to get to London tonight. I really must dash off. I suppose it is folly to hope you have changed your destination?” he asked, with a rather shy smile.

“I'm afraid it is.”

“I was right the first time. She
is
perverse. Fate, I mean.” He looked at me with those long-fringed eyes. There was regret in them, and if there was not the same expression in mine I would be much mistaken. He bowed, turned and left. Mitzi, showing great discrimination, had been well-behaved throughout the meeting.

I turned back to our parlor, then realized I had removed my spencer and would want it for the walk, so darted back to our room to get it. When I descended, the sultry-eyed female had emerged from her parlor and had cornered Sir Edmund. She was talking to him, batting her lashes, smiling. She lifted her head like a duchess when I approached; and ducked back into her parlor, as she had not time to get out of my view in any other direction.

“I thought she might possibly have seen Greenie,” Blount explained, with a sheepish look.

“Had she?”

“I hadn’t time to inquire. She mistook you for my wife—was just asking about you.”

“I trust you told her you are a confirmed misogamist.”

“Somehow, the matter did not arise. I had not time to make her any proposal, you see.”

“Only a proposition? Or does she handle the business details herself?”

I do not know whether his glare was for my question or Mitzi’s querulous snapping at his boots. “Let’s get out of here before the mutt disgraces us,” he suggested.

As we went toward the door I said, “As it happens, I have learned Greenie was in town. I met Colonel Fortescue in the lobby just a moment ago.”

“You should have brought him in to meet us. I would like to see the paragon.”

I gave a wistful sigh. “Unfortunately, he was in a great rush to get to London. I don’t suppose I shall ever see him again. Two ships that pass in the night . . .”

“Did the ship have anything useful to tell you?”

I outlined Fortescue’s information as we strolled along the main thoroughfare, our chore of walking the dog requiring a leisurely pace.

“The idiot!” Sir Edmund muttered. “Hadn’t the wits to have the jackanapes arrested.”

“He is too soft-hearted. I told him so. He was very upset about it.”

“I expect that was enough to make him break into tears.”

“No, he is too manly for tears. A veteran, you know, wounded.”

“In the Peninsula,” he added.

We kept an eye peeled for Greenie. Colors were still discernable, though everything was turning to gray rather rapidly. Mitzi, whom I had not fed yet, kept her nose to the ground for food and found a crust of bread against a shop wall. I tried to tug her away from it, but she held firm, necessitating my going closer to lift her away.

“This is a pawn shop,” Sir Edmund mentioned, as these establishments were of particular interest to us. “We must try it in the morning, if my search is not successful tonight.”

“Yes, close to the coach stop, too. He might well have unloaded his loot here.” I glanced into the window, and emitted a shriek. “Sir Edmund! That’s it! There, right in the middle of the window—my diamond necklace.”

He nearly put his head through the glass in his excitement. He leaned against the windowpane, as I did myself, to verify my jewelry. “Funny the man would put such a valuable thing in the window—vulnerable. Anyone could break the glass and steal it. You’ll notice the other objects are not really worth much. Watches, fans, hats . . . No genuine jewelry but yours.”

“He probably thinks it is strass glass. Maybe Greenie thought so when he sold it.”

“No, the dealer would know what he was about, if the pickpocket did not. I don’t think those are real diamonds, Miss Braden.”

“Of course they are. He hasn’t had time to pry them out and make paste replicas. We must get them. What’s the name of the place?”

“Reuben’s Pawn Shop,” he read, standing back to crane his neck up to the sign. “We’ll come here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” I asked. “We cannot leave them here all night. You said yourself they could easily be stolen. We must find out where Reuben lives, and go to his place. He’ll have to come back and let us in.”

“It can wait till morning. They are safe enough.”

“I don’t intend to leave them here over night.”

“I have other plans for my evening.”

“Not now! It is no longer necessary to find your way to the wrong side of town, to look for the fence person.

“Those were not the plans I referred to.”

“I see. You refer to the bit of the wrong side of town that has registered at the inn, do you? You are a fast worker, Sir Edmund.”

“I will not stir a finger to find Reuben this night,” he answered.

I am very happy to relate Mitzi defended me. She never likes to hear anyone speak roughly to me. She jumped up and sunk her teeth into his boots. Had he been wearing pantaloons, he would have felt it.

“And we’re getting rid of this foul-natured bitch too!” he threatened, shaking her off.

Chapter 6

Mitzi accompanied us on our expedition to find Mr. Reuben, as soon as we returned to the inn to tell Maisie of our plan and seen her to the room abovestairs. As it was getting so late, Sir Edmund booked rooms for us all to remain overnight. Even before returning to the inn, we learned Mr. Reuben’s residence from a small coffee shop next door. The proprietor, as I pointed out to Sir Edmund, was bound to know him, from having done business in the neighboring shop. It would take a Sir Edmund to insist it was utterly unlikely the two shopkeepers had ever spoken to each other over the years.

The coffee shop keeper knew all about Reuben. “He don’t live just around the corner,” he told us. “Reuben, he lives out of town, and comes in each morning on his mule. Down churchhouse walk you’ll find him. Take the road out of town a mile, turn left and follow the footpath that meanders all crinkum-crankum another half mile or more. Reuben lives in the shack place you’ll come to. There hard by the stream you’ll find him. Mind he may not be sober, so late in the day.”

“Thank you,” Sir Edmund said, disliking the inconvenience of the location. The proprietor was unhappy, too, to receive no pourboire for his help.

I nudged Blount’s arm. He glanced at me, frowning. “Give him something,” I said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Pay
him. Give him a tip.”

“Oh!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin of a denomination that was much too large. The man bit it before tossing it into his change box.

“There is obviously no point in going tonight,” Sir Edmund said, when we left the coffee shop. “His shack way to hell in the woods somewhere, and he dead drunk by now.”

“She’ll wait for you, Sir Edmund.”

“That is
not
why I refuse to go. We’ll wait till morning.”

“If I must go alone at night, I hope you will at least loan me your carriage and a boy to accompany me,” I answered.

“Miss Braden,” he began in a frustrated, holding-back-his-temper kind of a way.

“That is quite all right. Mitzi will come with me. How I wish Colonel Fortescue were here.” I lifted Mitzi into my arms as we headed back to the inn. Poor girl,” I said. “Bad Lizzie hasn’t given you any dinner. You shall have a nice beefsteak for a reward.” She cooed softly, then turned her head aside to snap at Blount, who was muttering into his collar.

“Shut up!” he shouted to the dog, as he was not quite rude enough to say it to me.

Reuben’s roost was neither far away nor difficult to find. The only little impediment was that once we reached the crinkum-crankum path, we had to descend and leave the carriage behind, to proceed on foot. The innocent footpath was castigated as everything from a jungle to a bog by my surly companion. The nettles
did
cling tenaciously to my skirts, though they were less bothersome to his booted feet. The occasional puddle we slipped into may have soaked my slippers, but cannot have done much damage to his Hessians.

Reuben was almost sober when we arrived. He had a large bottle of cheap wine at his elbow, but had not drunk more than the half of it. He was alert enough to demand a stiff price for obliging us in the business. He looked like a wizened, spiteful elf. He had black hair that had receded in two moons from a narrow face. His eyes were black, his nose sharp, his teeth mostly missing. They were represented by two eyeteeth on top, and one front projection on the bottom. Chewing, I should think, was impossible for him, which might account for his liquid diet.

“A body don’t like to be pelting all the way back into town at the end of a hard day. What will happen is that I’ll be too fagged to go back in the morning. Miss a half day’s earnings.” He sniffed, and lifted his dirty tumbler to his lips.

“How much?” Sir Edmund asked.

“No saying either when we get there that the diamonds will be them you’re after. Very fine diamonds they are. I paid the walleyed feller a hundred guineas for them.”

“They're worth a lot . . .” Edmund began. I gave his ankle a sharp kick to hush him up, before the man tumbled to it they were worth fifty times that sum. “Why did you leave them in the window, if they are so valuable?” he asked instead.

“To lure in the carriage trade,” Reuben answered, with a challenging light in his black eyes. “Yessir, I paid him one hundred guineas. Then there’ll be the half day’s earnings to be made up. My valu’ble time yanked away from me.” He looked forlornly at the bottle. I reached out and removed it to the far side of the table.

Mitzi growled at him. “Nice doggie,” Reuben said, then spat on the filthy floor, very close to her.

“We’re in a hurry, Reuben,” Sir Edmund said. “If you want to sell the necklace, you must come with us tonight. Now.”

“Take an hour to go, then to be coming back at midnight . . .”

“I’ll stand you to a room at the inn. You can come in my carriage. The trip won’t take long.”

After a half dozen more put-offs, Edmund resorted to saying the necklace was stolen anyway, and he would go to the constable if he had to wait till morning. This finally got Reuben up on his pegs. As it turned out, he had no intention of coming in our carriage. He hitched up his mule and arrived at his shop very shortly after we did ourselves. He made the trip down the crinkum-crankum path faster; we made up the time on the surfaced road. He let us into a pitch black shop, lit a few rush lights, then clambered into the window to get out the necklace. I reached out eagerly for
it.

I knew as soon as I held it in my hands that it was not mine. It
looked
like it; the design was identical, but it did not
feel
like it. Seeing my puzzlement, Sir Edmund lifted it and carried it into a light.

“Got a loupe?” he asked Reuben.

He had one, but was reluctant to produce it. I soon knew why.

“These aren’t diamonds,” Blount said, after a cursory examination.

“If they ain’t, I was bilked out of a hundred guineas,” Reuben answered staunchly, while his black eyes began shifting around his crabbed, jumbled heap of a place.

“You were bilked,” Blount told him, quite jubilantly, thinking only of revenge and not of my plight. “I am taking them next door to the coffee shop for a better light. Come along if you like.” Reuben accompanied him. As I had no wish to remain alone in his shop, I tagged along as well.

“Not even a good copy,” Blount said, tossing the necklace on to the table. “These aren’t worth a guinea.”

“One guinea? I paid two!” Reuben howled.

I exchanged a tacit look with Sir Edmund, who shook his head ruefully at the corruption of mankind. “Do you want them?” he asked me.