Page 55 of To Catch an Earl

She let Harland take the paper from her nerveless fingers.

Oh, God.She hadn’t thought things could get worse than her own arrest. But now Danton was demanding all of the jewels her father had collected, within twenty-four hours, or Luc’s life would be forfeit.

If you doubt my claim,he’d written.Take note of the example set by Signore Andretti. Such is the fate of those who defy me.

Emmy shivered. Was that oblique reference enough to prove Danton had killed the Italian? Surely it was enough to convince Harland to help her?

“Does Camille know?” she asked.

Sally shook her head. “Not yet. She was still in her room. I came straight here. What should we do?” Her tears threatened to overflow, and she dashed them away with an impatient hand. “That bastard. If he hurts Luc, I’ll—”

She didn’t seem able to find a harsh enough expletive to finish that sentence. Emmy caught her elbow and tugged her into Harland’s rooms, and the two of them dropped into the wing chairs that flanked the fire.

Sally looked around her with wide eyes, doubtless noticing the telltale rumple of sheets through the open door to the bedchamber and drawing her own—entirely correct—conclusions as to why Emmy hadn’t returned last night. She sent Emmy a telling look, but thankfully forbore to comment.

Harland stepped into the room and turned his penetrating gaze on Sally. “How long ago was this letter delivered?”

“About an hour.”

“By messenger?”

“Yes. One of them errand boys. There’s no way to trace it back to the source. We tried that before. None of ’em know where ’e lives.”

“Miss Danvers is currently helping Bow Street with its inquiries.”

Emmy gave an inelegant snort at his linguistic circumnavigation—helping with their inquiries, indeed.

He ignored her. “Miss Hawkins, you should return to Waverley Gardens and await further instruction. You may tell the countess what has happened at your discretion.”

Emmy opened her mouth to object to him giving suchsummary commands concerningherfamily, but he sent her a quelling glare.

“Miss Danvers and I,” he continued, “are going to discuss the location of the Nightjar’s ill-gotten gains.”

Sally sent Emmy another desperate look, and Emmy lifted her shoulders in awhat can I do?shrug. In a choice between the Nightjar’s jewels and her brother’s life, there really wasn’t a decision to make. Luc was more important than any patriotic whim. She’d loved her father dearly, but he was dead, whereas Luc—she sincerely hoped—was still alive and well.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that cooperating with Bow Street would in any way lessen her eventual sentence, but she would do anything to save her brother. She sent Sally what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “He’s right. Please go and sit with Camille. Tell her I have everything under control.”

Sally nodded, apparently convinced by that outright lie. “All right. But you be careful, Em, you hear me.” She sent another meaningful glance toward Harland and stood, shaking out her skirts. “Don’t do anyfink I wouldn’t do.”

Emmy refrained from saying that didn’t rule out much at all.

“Mickey will be delighted to escort you home, Miss Hawkins.” Harland indicated the door with an expansive sweep of his arm, as if Sally were a duchess, and she bustled back into the passageway with a mollified sniff. “And Mickey,” he added to the hovering manservant, “tell Sam to saddle up Bey.”

As soon as the rustle of Sally’s skirts and the thump of Mickey’s boots had receded, he turned back to Emmy with a steely look in his eye. “Enough skirmishing. Where are the rest of the jewels?”

Emmy gave a disgruntled sniff. “Very well. They’re buried in the grounds of a ruined abbey. In Rutland.”

“Rutland?” he said aghast. “Near Lincolnshire? Dear God. Why there? I thought they would be here, in London.”

She shook her head, rather enjoying his irritation. “My grandfather had a hunting lodge out there. You can’t just go and dig the place up, though. Only Luc and I know the exact location of the cache.” She sent him a sweet, triumphant smile. “If you want all the jewels, you’re going to have to take me with you.”

His eyes narrowed in displeasure. “How do I know you’re not leading me on a wild goose chase? That you won’t try to escape en route?”

“Apart from the fact that I give you my word?” she countered. “At least credit me with not wanting Luc to be hurt. I’m as keen to get those jewels to Danton as you are.”

That logic seemed to satisfy him. “How far is it?”

Emmy suppressed a smile. “About ninety miles. It’s near Stamford, straight up the Great North Road.”

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