“I am the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville.” Rhys took out the gold card. “I have come to collect something left to me by my uncle.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” The clerk’s tone was deferential. “Beg pardon, but house policy permits only two visitors at a time to the Vault.”
Vault.Rhys looked at Maggie, a charge of excitement passing between them.
“Mr. Newton and I will wait here,” Hypatia said.
Taking out a large keyring, the clerk unlocked the door behind the counter and ushered Maggie and Rhys through.
The next room contained a large workshop where some dozen goldsmiths were hard at work fashioning tableware and decorative objects. Tools of the trade lined the tables, and one of the smiths was smelting metal over a large brick hearth. The clerk unlocked yet another door, ushering them through.
In the small chamber, a wizened man wearing rich maroon velvet sat at a desk. He was overshadowed by the pair of hulking guards flanking the massive iron door behind him.
“Your Grace, this is Mr. Gruenwald,” the clerk said. “He will assist you from here.”
With a respectful bow to Rhys and his employer, the clerk left, closing the door behind him.
It took Gruenwald several minutes to rise, the action accompanied by the creaking of old bones. Standing, his height was not much changed.
“May I see your credentials, Your Grace?” the goldsmith asked.
With thrumming anticipation, Rhys handed over the gold card.
Gruenwald perused it with care. “And the key?”
“Pardon?” Rhys asked.
“The key that is required to access the locked box inside the vault,” the old man said.
“I do not have the key. You see, my uncle recently passed, and he left me this card—”
“I’m afraid I cannot help you, Your Grace. Card and key must both be present in order for accounts to be accessed. Those are the terms.”
Rhys’s elation was replaced by frustration. Devil take it, the treasure wasliterallywithin reach. He could feel it in his bones.
“My inheritance is within that vault,” he said in ducal tones.
“You will not get it without the key.” The old man’s manner was immovable. “There are over five hundred locked boxes within the vault. You will need the proper key to open the proper box. The security at Gruenwald’s is such that even I do not have the ability to open patrons’ boxes, only the door to the vault.”
“There’s nothing you can do to help us, sir?” Maggie asked.
“Nothing, I’m afraid.” The old man’s bones creaked like rusty hinges as he slowly lowered himself back into the chair. “Come back when you have the key.”
Bloody hell.Disquiet merged with Rhys’s frustration for it was clear that he had no choice: to find the treasure, he would have to face whatever ghosts Horatio had resurrected.
30
That evening,Maggie stepped into the sitting room at the hotel. Nervously smoothing her black satin gloves, she asked, “What do you think?”
“Oh, Mama, you look ever so beautiful!” Glory clasped her hands together.
“You are in splendid looks this eve,” Patty agreed.
“Feathers make the bird.” Relieved, Maggie smiled at her lady’s maid, who’d followed her in from the bedchamber. “And I have Bertha to thank as well.”
“It’s a pleasure to dress you, ma’am.” Bertha gave the elaborate skirts of the ball gown an expert twitch. “You do look a treat.”
“I don’t feel like myself,” Maggie admitted.
