She was already reaching for him, stepping forward with her arms out to calm him, when he recognized the woman behind her and his expression eased to one of confusion.
“Rose? Eliza?”
“What in the perfidious cockwobbler is going on here?” Demon roared, barreling into the room behind Bull, chest heaving and fists already raised, not slowly until he was halfway to the portrait collection. “Who the fook is this? Where’s the blackmailer? Are ye safe, Rosie? What are ye doing, wearing that thing?”
Rosie, frozen with her arms out, glanced down at herself. “What thing?” she asked brightly. “Hello, Da.”
“Aye, aye,hello.” Her father waved dismissively, clearly not interested in social niceties, still glaring at her hand. “That ring! Ye’re no’ supposed to be wearing that ring! The cribbling engagement was a lie! Ye’ll no’ wear?—”
Rosie’s heart had sunk, and she cut off her father with a sad sort of smile. “Oh yes, this.”
She lifted her hands, palms out, to show her father that she wore the ring, then closed them into fists and turned them so the backs of her hands faced him. She lowered her gaze, performed a casual bit of sleight of hand…
And when she showed her father her hands once more, the ring was gone.
CHAPTER 16
Asurprised bark of laughter burst from Bull’s lips as he realized Rose had palmed the ring, slipping it up her sleeve. When everyone in the room turned to look at him—Demon glaring, Eliza beaming, Rosie just looking sad—he shrugged apologetically.
“I taught her that.” He stepped proudly toward Rosie. “Ye learned that from me.”
Lady Mistree clapped with delight. “Oh, you are a treasure, Rose! Just like my dear sister! Do you cheat at cards as well?”
Rosie glanced back at her father. “You are right, Da. Our engagementwasa ruse, as were all the roles I learned to play in this investigation. But this particular one…”
Suddenly the ring appeared in between her first two fingers, held to catch the light. “This role,” she whispered, looking only to Bull, “did not feel like a ruse.”
Bull’s heart was near bursting with pride as he met her in the middle of all the portraits. He reached for her, clasping her arms, reassuring himself she was safe and healthy. “It didnae feel like a ruse to me either,” he murmured. “Do ye ken where that ring came from?”
When Rosie shook her head, he glanced at Lady Mistree. “It was my inheritance.”
The old woman beamed at the pair of them. “I told him it would fit the woman he would marryperfectly. I gave it to him that day in the Gallery, when you were wearing that outrageous mustache, right before my Teddy stole the portrait.”
“Mustache?” blurted Demon. “Stolen from a Gallery? A mustached teddy? What the fook is going on here?”
But Bull was busy gaping at the old woman. “Yewere behind the thefts, Eliza? Or should I call ye Aunt Betsy?”
“Oh, bravo, Bull!” she praised, clapping her hands together again, clearly delighted. “I should have known I could not fool you—at least, not for long.”
Rose slid her hand into his, clasping the ring between their palms. “You figured it out?”
“That she’s yer great-grandmother’s sister?” Bull nodded. “Aye. I spent hours in the library with yer mother, gathering the clues, before emerging to learn that ye’d run off to meet the blackmailer and save me the trouble.”
His love chuckled. “I should have known I would not have to explain it to you.”
Demon stomped his way into Bull’s line of sight, fists clenched, face red with rage. “Well I wish someone wouldexplain it tome! This auld woman is the blackmailer?” He whirled on Eliza. “Ye’rethe one who threatened Bull and pushed him to his icy death and lured my daughter away?”
Bull was surprised the man had even mentioned the threats against him—since when didDemoncare about such things?—and would even consider this frail old woman was the one Bull had grappled with on the frozen river. So he stepped forward to put himself between the old woman and Rose’s father, who looked ready to break someone in frustration.
“Demon, Eliza is the Dowager Countess of Mistree.”
“My husband’s nephew Teddy is around here somewhere,” Eliza explained cheerfully. “He inherited the title after my Reggie’s death, Lord love him, along with the estate in Northumberland and the townhouse in London. Rosewood, however, ismine, and has been since my mother’s death many decades ago.”
Bull nodded, uncertain how that was relevant, but trying to appease the old woman. He patted the air, trying to placate Demon, who was still glaring. “Eliza is also yer wife’s great-aunt. Georgia’s mother was her niece.”
Demon’s scowl shifted back to Lady Mistree. “The old one who was married for ages?”
“That is me!” Eliza agreed with a chipper sort of finger wave. “And dying, you know. Dying women have diplomatic immunity, I believe?”
