“Only to end up where it was said to be in the first place.” Pensively, Trick played with the lock in his hands—the one he’d hacked off in the king’s presence.
“Od’s fish—that was none of your doing. It’s pleased I am that you recovered what you did, and I’d be pleased as well to see you keep a part of it.”
“I couldn’t.” He’d lost most of it already, no matter that Charles refused to place blame.
“I insist.” He handed Trick the plate. “Here. As a memento, if nothing else.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to keep this.” The dish had to be worth a small fortune, and Charles needed it far more than he did.
“There must be something here that strikes your fancy.” The king set down the plate and raised a jeweled goblet. “This. Or something else.”
“No, really, I—”
“What is this?” Metal servingware clanked as Charles reached into the bottom and brought out the small ivory casket. His black eyes glittering, he lifted the unlocked lid and extracted the short necklace of large pearls. Raising it with a hand, he flicked a finger to set the giant teardrop pearl swinging. “There’s a painting of my mother wearing this,” he murmured.
“Henrietta Maria will be happy to have it back. It will look lovely on her.”
The king looked up. “Yes, it will,” he said softly. “I thank you.” He fished out the sapphire and diamond necklace that Kendra had held up earlier. “If you won’t take something for yourself, then take this for your new wife.”
Suddenly inspired, Trick reached for the box, setting it on his lap to extricate a long strand of pearls from the tangle.
“This,” he said. “If you insist I take something, this is what I’d like.”
Charles frowned at it. “Those pearls are ordinary. And the clasp only amber. That’s likely the least valuable item in the entire chest.”
“It’s the one I want.” Trick’s tone left no room for doubt.
“You shall have it then, with my thanks.” The king shut the casket and set it atop the gold and silver that crowded the trunk. He reached for his wineglass again, his long fingers worrying the stem. “How goes the mission?”
“Very well, but for the interruption.” The pearls made soft clicking sounds as Trick shifted them in his hands, thinking about Kendra asleep in the late duke’s gaudy bed upstairs. “I have some descriptions that I was preparing to give to Pendregast when I was called away to Scotland.”
“Excellent.” The king sipped. “I assume, being away, you missed hearing the latest news.”
“News?” A tiny chill crept up Trick’s spine. Or maybe the chamber was a bit cold.
“There’s been a reward posted for the mysterious Black Highwayman.”
“Bloody hell.” He could only hope his leads would pan out and he’d have no need to pose as the highwayman again. “No one has connected him to me, so I don’t expect I have anything to worry about.”
“No one?”
“Just my wife. And her family.” Damn. “I haven’t told them the purpose for the disguise—”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Broadsides were likely plastered all over the kingdom, advertising the reward. Kendra would see them and worry herself sick. “I’d like to tell only my wife—”
“If the mission is nearly complete, there’s no sense involving anyone else.”
“Just her—”
“I’ve never known a woman who could keep her mouth shut.” Charles pinned him with his jet-black gaze. “Have you?”
Once Trick would have agreed, but now he knew he’d been wrong. His wife had kept Cait’s secret, and she hadn’t told her brothers about his supposed financial trouble or him continuing as a highwayman, either.
“Kendra’s not like that.”
“I’m happy your marriage agrees with you, Amberley. But I trust no woman to stay quiet, not even your wife. And I’m trustingyouto respect my wish for silence. Your loyalty will pay dividends. Your disloyalty…”
