‘I see.’
And she did. Saw it all in every colour of dread. Saw how all the lies had come to this point and how there could no longer be any chance of going back.
‘I think I shall leave.’
‘Might I trouble you for a short lift, Lady Addington? I am feeling faint and probably need to be at my lodgings which are only a few streets away.’ She could hardly refuse de Beaumont without causing question.
Once outside and the door shut firmly behind them, the French Comte lost all pretence.
‘You should not have come here, Violet.’ None of the American drawl remained and his hand on her arm was like a vice. ‘It was foolish.’
She noticed that the gold Parisian ring was back on his finger even as she pulled away. ‘Let me go this instant, sir, or I shall scream.’
He did just that, but the fury in his eyes was unhidden. ‘Why are you here?’
‘I imagine for the same reason you are, my lord. To do business with the jeweller.’
He turned at this and began on a different topic altogether. ‘I have heard it said that you have an expert knowledge on the values inherent in gold?’
They were in the carriage now and the door was closed behind them.
‘My father was a successful jeweller. I grew up with the knowing.’ She looked at him full on, the very threads of her existence hanging in a balance. He was French and everything she knew of him was shrouded in shadows. Shifting. Changing. A chameleon. A man of violence. The disguised American. She was heartened by the frown on his face and pushed on.
‘I am here, too, because most women enjoy the thought of jewellery, sir, and I am no different.’
The idea of appearing so very shallow stung a little, but it was much better than the alternative.
‘Yet I have never seen you wear even a single piece of adornment, Lady Addington. There are things about you that do not quite make sense.’
‘I could throw the same accusation at you, Comte de Beaumont. If I had alerted the Home Office of your injuries on the night I found you on Brompton Place, would they have been interested in your movements, do you think? Would they still be now?’
‘Are you blackmailing me?’
‘I liken it to playing chess, my lord. One move can be checked by another. If you insist on asking questions about me and my family, then you leave me with no other option.’
He leaned forward at that. ‘You think it a game, Violet? A small entertainment? What if I told you I believe your husband was murdered?’ His head tilted slightly as she gave no answer and he swore. ‘But you knew that already, did you not? Then know also that you could be the next in their sights, the wife of a man who was not quite as he seemed. What if I also told you that George Taylor, the jeweller, is dead, too. His body was found in a ditch outside Chichester three days ago and his injuries were substantial.’
Horror consumed her.
‘Whatever your husband got involved in was brutal, Violet, and cruel, so if by any chance Addington’s gains were also your own I would leave London and disappear immediately.’
‘Gains?’ She could barely speak.
‘When one melts down gold and replaces the bulk of it with silver and lead there is great propensity for a lucrative exchange, but there is also a greater chance of dying for it.’
She lifted her hand and banged hard against the wall of the carriage, glad when it came to a standstill.
‘I do not know what it is you speak of, but this is your stop, sir.’
He nodded. She could see the muscles in his jaw moving, though he himself made no effort at all to climb out.
‘If you ever have a need for help, Lady Addington, day or night...’
She tipped her head and looked away.
‘I shan’t.’
He looked at her in a way that broke her heart and as the door shut behind him she watched him move off into the showery rain, the greyness of the city swallowing him up.
