Page 63 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Eurydice shrugged, having no ready answer for that.

Grandmamantook her place in the carriage then, and began to dictate orders to Nelson about their stop that night. The girls ceased their conversation, Daphne looking out the window and Eurydice returning to her book. Jenny’s sniffle was louder and the girl blew her nose with increasing frequency.

Daphne was thinking furiously. The fact was that her impressions of the duke did not fit together. On the one hand, he appeared to be a frivolous fop, concerned only with his own comfort and desires. On the other, she felt a strange thrill when his gaze met hers, and those blue eyes carried an intensity that did not match his words. His belly was large as if he were fat, but his legs were most fine, and his face—when she ignored the rouge—was both masculine and handsome.

It made no sense.

Perhaps she was wrong. Eurydice was the clever one and she thought the duke was precisely as he appeared.

In the end, it mattered little, though. He was interested in her and she did not care why. Daphne was more than delighted that she would have the opportunity to see the Duke of Inverfyre again, and very soon.

CHAPTER2

“It’s a remarkable piece,”Rupert said, his admiration a perfect echo of Alexander’s own. “But then, you’ve seen the original.”

“The resemblance is uncanny.” Alexander turned the replica in his hand, letting the candlelight catch the facets of the cut stones. They shone brilliantly, and he was impressed by the workmanship. “I’ve never seen so fine a fraud. I could only tell them apart when I had the genuine Eye of India in one hand and this counterfeit one in the other, and then only with close examination.” He didn’t tell even Rupert about the small mark on the back of the forgery, made so that they could be reliably distinguished. Cushing was nothing if not diligent.

The two men were in Alexander’s rented quarters at the Mermaid’s Kiss. The hour was so late that the tavern had quieted below and they kept their voices very soft as they conferred. Alexander had shed his disguise with relief and sat at the table before the fire in his shirt, boots and breeches. Rupert had drawn the drape and locked the door before Alexander removed the pin from its hiding place.

The pin, which was a duplicate of the one being sent to Lady Tamsyn, was oblong in shape and filled Alexander’s palm. In its middle was a large cut oval sapphire of deep blue color, as large as the nail of Alexander’s thumb. It was surrounded by cut diamonds in glittering ribbons, the whole set in platinum.

At least, the original was a sapphire with diamonds set in platinum. The one Alexander held was glass and paste set in tin. He tilted it toward the light and smiled. “Look. Even the eye portrait has been faithfully reproduced.”

“Eye portrait?” Rupert leaned closer.

“It’s a piece that was originally exchanged between lovers. That’s why it’s called the Lover’s Eye. The original recipient was given the gem by a lover, and this is a portrait of his eye.”

“Who was he?”

“No one knows, but Cushing has contrived a tale that Jonathan Hambly had it made for Emily Hawkins but never gave it to her due to her early and sudden death. That’s why he’s sending it to the bride, who is the oldest daughter of the current earl.”

“Quite a generous gift.”

“Remarkably so.

“Won’t she be suspicious?”

“Cushing is believed to be eccentric and, in my experience, people are most willing to accept rich gifts, even with meager explanations. Cushingisa distant relation.” Alexander slipped the gem back into its velvet sack, knotted the drawstring, then placed it into a second velvet bag. Even the bags containing the real gem and the copy were perfect replicas, which made his task much simpler. “You confirmed that it was delivered today?”

“By Cushing’s great-nephew, as anticipated. Nathaniel Cushing.”

Alexander nodded. “Then the exchange must be made tonight.”

“Are you certain you should go alone?” Rupert asked, peeking around the window shade. The evening was clear, the moon nearly full. Alexander might have wished for a few clouds to better hide his activities, but he would make do.

He donned his dark jacket, a large soft hat and his hooded cloak. He tugged on his boots and shoved his gloves into his belt. “Absolutely. You may have to pretend to be me in my absence.” Alexander smiled at the very thought.

“Good Lord!” Rupert exclaimed, imitating Alexander’s foppish tone very well. “Is there no decent flame to be had in this hovel?” He raised his voice, sounding shrill. “This chimney smokes beyond belief and the bed is as cold as ice. Go and fetch more wood for the fire, Haskell. I don’t care what these barbarians have to say of it!”

The men exchanged a glance and a nod, then Alexander unbolted the door. “Aye, Your Grace,” he said gruffly, knowing he was not as good a mimic as his friend. “Immediately, Your Grace.”

“Well, don’t stand there, letting in the draft,” Rupert whined. “I already have a sniffle and you know I can’t tolerate a chill. Hurry, man!”

Alexander strode from the chamber, but he fetched only one load of wood for the fire. He descended as if to gather a second load, but left the tavern instead. It would take him a good half hour to walk to Castle Keyvnor by a circuitous route, and he could only hope that there were few souls abroad at this hour to notice his passage.

* * *

Daphne awakened when Castle Keyvnor was dark and quiet, her heart pounding and her palms slick. It had been her familiar nightmare again, the one in whichGrandmamanpassed and they were left close to penniless.

---