“Ah, now that’s a fine sight to see,” he declared.
Grenville and I crowded around. Inside, nestled in a bed of straw, gleamed objects of gold, many of them. I made out the shape of a dog-headed Egyptian statue.
“Lucky thing these were shut back here,” Brewster said. “Saved them from the blast.”
I had to wonder if Denis had thought of that.
“I’ll take these to His Nibs,” Brewster said with a grin. “He’ll be chuffed.”
I had to agree that he would be.
CHAPTER 26
We helped Brewster load the crate he’d opened into the carriage. I wanted to alert Thompson and Sir Montague about his find, but Brewster forestalled me.
“Let me retrieve all His Nibs’ things first,” Brewster said. “Deliver that box to him and tell him to come identify the rest. Then ye can bring Mr. Thompson in. He’s a good bloke, for the law.”
Brewster was correct that once the magistrates seized these goods, the chances of Denis recovering his shipment was low. The items would be held as evidence and only slowly returned to whoever truly owned them—if that could even be determined.
We left Brewster happily tearing through the rest of the walls and returned to Mayfair.
“Do you think Eden and Mrs. Davies will make a match?” Grenville asked as we rode. “Despite his denials?”
I shrugged. “Eden has always been carefree, and I haven’t seen that change in him. But who knows? Mrs. Davies is beautiful and grateful, and her home is pleasant. I suspect Eden will drift more and more to that house, and one day never leave it.”
“I wish him well.” Grenville gave him an imaginary toast. “He seems a good man.”
“He is. And rash, impetuous, and a poor liar.”
“Hmm.” Grenville eyed me, then shook his head and gazed out the window.
We arrived in Curzon Street as thick clouds covered the sun and a heavy October rain began to fall. We found Denis reestablished in his upstairs study, though his guards were in evidence throughout the house and outside it. One never knew.
Denis received the box of Egyptian treasures with a nod and ordered Gibbons to send others to assist Brewster.
“Will anything be left in that warehouse when they are finished?” I asked him.
Denis answered with one of his minute shakes of the head. “The shipment I lost was substantial.”
I chose not to argue. Nor did I protest too much when Denis lifted a bejeweled golden scarab from the crate and offered it to me. Donata would be pleased with it, I decided.
I left Denis to his stratagems. When we alighted at South Audley Street, Grenville declared himself quite fatigued and retired to his chamber for a nap. He closed his door before I approached Donata’s sitting room.
Donata was there, once again writing letters at her desk. I crossed the room, laid the scarab before her, and kissed the top of her head.
Donata took up the scarab, enchanted. “Good heavens, Gabriel, it is lovely.” She glanced at me as I hovered behind her. “Is this a peace offering?”
“It is a beautiful trinket I thought you would like,” I said quietly. “I believe Denis’s intention is a peace offering. Or a step toward the debt he says he owes me. He likes to have things in balance. Usually tipped in his favor.”
“That is true.” Donata admired the scarab once more and gently laid it on the writing table. “Thank you.”
I laid my cheek against her hair. “You are welcome.” I drew a breath. “I can never bring the balance between us aright again. I know that.” I rose, stepping back. “I accept that.”
“Gabriel.” Donata turned in her chair. “Please, do not go.”
The words made my throat tighten. I drew a chair beside hers and sat down, taking her hands. “Never. Until you send me far away.”
“I do not wish to.”
