“One thing,” he warned, kissing the end of her dainty little nose. “Do not run off with Bracksby before I’ve the chance to formally offer for you again. He’s a jolly good man and I’d hate like the deuce to have to put a period to him.”
Trying to match his insouciance, Naomi said pertly that she was far more inclined to run off with Reggie Smythe. The price she had to pay for that piece of flippancy left her deliciously breathless, and she was able to leave Gideon with hope in her heart, and a smile on her lips.
***
The skies had darkened, and thunder was rolling down the sky by the time Gideon returned to Snow Hill. Lieutenant Morris had already arrived and was closeted in the book room with Sir Mark and Newby. They looked up from inspecting the ruby figure, and Morris said aggrievedly, “You send me off with instructions to make haste. Having risen at the crack of dawn and fought my way through numerous desperate encounters for your sake, I arrive to find you are gallivanting about somewhere!”
With a grin, Gideon wrung his outstretched hand. “An I know you, Jamie, your dawn cracked at ten o’clock, and your desperate encounters involved no more than fighting your way from the breakfast table! Still, you deserve a medal for bringing me this article!” He took up the ruby figure and looked at it curiously. “If only you could speak, little man…”
Sir Mark said, “I’d sooner hear from you, boy. What have you been about?”
“Quite a deal, sir. Has anyone come—er, looking for me?”
Newby drawled, “A messenger brought a letter for you.”
“I have it here.” Sir Mark handed Gideon a sealed paper. “And a Bow Street Runner came to enquire about the accident with the coach on Wednesday night. Very ponderous and painstaking. All wind and no worth.”
Gideon broke the seal, and read aloud:
Dear Captain Rossiter:
I understand that you are in possession of one of the pieces of the Jewelled Men collection. I also am a most ardent admirer of these works of art, and ’tis my hope to eventually own the entire set. In view of the antiquity of the figures, I will not insult your intelligence by offering a lesser sum than One Thousand Pounds for the piece you hold.
“God bless my soul!” gasped Sir Mark.
Newby whistled softly. “How can so small and unattractive an object be so valuable?”
Gideon exchanged a glance with Morris, and read on:
We have not met, but I stay at the Inn of The Blue Heron in Kensington Village, and should you be in the least interested in my proposition, you will be most eagerly welcomed by—
Your fellow collector,
Thomas Kendall-Parker
“One thousand pounds,” muttered Lieutenant Morris. “Jove, ’tis a vast sum!”
“He’ll have to double it, at least,” said Gideon, and setting aside the letter, took the blue figure from his coat pocket and laid it on the table.
“Stap me!” Newby leapt to his feet and snatched it up. “You’ve more sense than I credited you with, twin. These two together will command a princely sum! If this Kendall-Parker fellow offers a thousand, you may be sure they’re worth two or three times that much!”
Sir Mark said, “To judge from the graze on your forehead, I think you did not come by that easily, my boy.”
“Not exactly, sir.” Gideon related the day’s events as succinctly as possible, his story often interrupted by exclamations of excitement or anger. When he finished, Sir Mark was on his feet, his face flushed and eyes sparking wrath. “That treacherous hound! Not content with the betrayal of his trust, Derrydene has the bare-faced gall to threaten my son!”
“And I fancy is well on his way to France by this time,” muttered Newby.
“I doubt that,” said Gideon. “I’ve Tummet keeping watch on his house, and Glendenning has promised to send word at once should Derrydene attempt to run.” He added, “Do you see now, Papa, how these strange little figures are in some way bound up with the conspiracy ’gainst you?”
Sir Mark said triumphantly, “Then you own ’tis indeed a conspiracy?”
“I think we must all see that now, sir,” said Morris. “The thing is, we’ve to convince the Courts.”
“Those blockheads at Bow Street should have acted at once on what Gideon told them,” said Sir Mark angrily. “But my word carries some weight yet, I think. I shall go to the Horse Guards. I’ve an introduction to General Underhill, and with luck I’ll persuade him to—” He paused as an ear-splitting clap of thunder shook the windows.
The door opened, and Wilson announced, “A messenger from Lord Horatio Glendenning.”
A liveried lackey was shown in, raindrops gleaming on his cloak and tricorne. After a swift scan of the room, he went straight to Gideon. “His lordship’s compliments, sir, and I am to say that your man has been relieved for a few hours, but will go back on guard at ten tonight. His lordship don’t think there’s much danger of flight, because in accord with your instructions, two Watchmen has also been set outside the house.”
