The question had nagged Lucas ever since Olivia had said the name. Two days had passed since she brought him the list she’d copied from the ledgers hidden in Russell’s chamber, and ever since, he and his men had been dedicated to tracking down any pieces they possibly could.
But they’d found nothing.
What was more, Olivia had heard Tabitha say that this man could be dangerous, and the idea of someone harming Olivia fanned the fire beneath him.
Lucas waited just outside the rear entrance to their shop, where Olivia was supposed to meet him. He spotted her as she crossed the road, and he straightened. Thoughts of porcelain and thefts fled.
The early afternoon sunlight fell over the crowded street, and the resulting shadows highlighted her slender form and played against the wisps of hair visible from beneath her straw bonnet. The skirt of her empire-waisted peach-hued gown swayed with each determined step, and the ribbons securing her bonnet dancedin the breeze. But it was more than her beauty that captured his imagination. Her every motion exuded a refreshing confidence that he was not sure he’d ever seen in a woman before. None of the other women at Cloverton would dare be seen on a public street without a companion or at least a maid. But Olivia did things her own way. She thought differently. She challenged what was considered feminine. And yet sheexudedfemininity.
As she drew nearer to his shop, he jogged and met her halfway in the crowded road. “There you are! I wish you would have permitted me to send my carriage for you.”
She beamed at him before they fell into step with each other back to the shop’s rear entrance. “The offer was kind, but it would only make my uncle suspicious.”
Once inside, she removed her bonnet and brushed her hair away from her brow. “I’ve been eager to hear if you’ve been able to find anything more on John Wakes.”
“No, I haven’t. You?”
She hung her bonnet on the hook just inside the door. “I spent all morning looking through records and couldn’t find a thing.”
He motioned toward his office. “Wainbridge is here already. He’s in my office.”
Olivia jolted, and her forehead furrowed. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to arrive for another half hour.”
“He’s early. I’ve managed to put him off for a bit. I told him someone knowledgeable on the topic would be joining us.”
“Did you tell him it was me?”
He chuckled. “No.”
She expelled a nervous laugh and fussed with the fichu about her neck. “I suppose I can understand why.”
“Don’t worry. All will be well. Wainbridge is a reasonable man. Mostly.”
Together they made their way to the office, and Lucas opened the door and paused for her to pass before him.
Almost immediately, Wainbridge jumped to his feet from where he’d been sitting near the desk. His appearance had much improved from the wild version she’d encountered the morning she’d left Cloverton. He was once again the immaculately dressed, clean-shaven man she’d met that first day of the house party, but instead of his customary grin, a disapproving scowl darkened his visage. “MissBrannon. I was not expecting to see you here.”
“I asked her to join us.” Lucas raised his hands, as if soothing a spooked stallion. “Before we discuss your collection, she has something you must hear.”
Wainbridge’s irritated expression hardened. “With all due respect, Avery, I don’t think so.”
Lucas maintained a firm tone. “She has news that impacts all of us. Like it or not, your collection is at the center of a larger issue.”
After Wainbridge’s expression softened and he relaxed back into his chair, Olivia calmly informed him of what she’d learned over the last several days—about Tabitha, Russell, and Wakes. About the ledgers and the midnight conversation, the planned meeting, and the authentic piece at her shop that, in all likelihood, belonged to him.
When all again fell silent, Wainbridge pushed his fingers through his dark hair and shook his head, as if shaking himself out of a stupor. “I see.”
Recognizing that Olivia’s words were gaining traction, Lucas added, “We must act upon what we know. As the owner of the pieces, you are the only one with authority. Based on what MissBrannon overheard, there’s an exchange planned for Wednesday night on Cloverton property. If these thieves are to be brought to justice, the three of us must work together.”
“The three of us?” Wainbridge raised a thick eyebrow. “With all due respect, MissBrannon, I—”
“I take this very seriously”—Olivia’s impassioned tone was steady—“and I’m the one who overheard the conversation and found the original piece in the storeroom. I can answer questions that no one else can.”
Lucas moved to stand next to her. “We should have no problem keeping any plans from Crane since he’s away from London, but ensuring that Tabitha doesn’t suspect anything is imperative.”
“Very well,” Wainbridge acquiesced at last. “Isabella and I will be returning to Yorkshire in two days’ time. You’re welcome to share our carriage, and we can sort the details from there. Will we be able to recover the stolen pieces? Or the money at least?”
Lucas shrugged. “That’s the goal. I suggest you inform your solicitor of our suspicions before you leave London, and we’ll want to speak with the magistrate in Yorkshire, but recovering the money will depend on whether the authentic pieces have been sold or not. Crane is well-connected in the antiquities world, but so are MissBrannon and I. Hope is not lost, but you must trust us.”
