“Come now, sir, all isn’t lost.” He glanced again at the ledger. “It doesn’t say it was sold. It may have been so handsome a piece that we cleaned it and set it out already for sale. I’ll show you where they are kept in the store.”
“Very good.” Jasper let his hopes rise again. He even managed to tamp down the retort that the man had insulted his valet. His pin would have needed no cleaning. Blumsey made sure every jewel the earl owned sparkled and every white cravat was snowy as a swan.
He followed the man back onto the main floor.
“Perhaps your cravat pin is over here,” Rundell said, as they passed the same two gentlemen. Again, Jasper nodded to each.
Approaching the display case of pins, Jasper spied it at once.
“That one,” he said, more loudly than he ought, so relieved to lay eyes upon it again.
“Ah, yes. That is a fine pin.” Rundell set it on a piece of black velvet atop the counter.
Jasper picked it up, immediately slipping it into his pocket.
“If you’ll put that on my account,” he began, but the man frowned, his gaze going toward the pocket.
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t sell pawned items on credit. They must be paid for as we have already laid out the money for the piece.” Rundell held his hand out flat, awaiting the return of the pin. “I’m sure you understand,” he added. “If you were unable to pay, we would be out the moneyandthe pin.”
Jasper blinked, his mouth agape.
“Unable to pay,” he echoed, surprised at this turn of events. “That pin belonged to my father. It’s a family keepsake. And not just any family —myfamily. I am the Earl of Marshfield!”
“Yes, I am aware yousayyou are, but—”
“Say I am!” Jasper’s surprise became outrage. Turning around, his gaze landed upon the two men from his club. He didn’t know them well, but one was a baron named Thomas, and the other...? He searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall. Regardless, he assumed one of them would know his identity.
Stalking toward them, he said, “Do either of you know who I am?”
The men glanced at one another before the baron said, “Yes, my lord.”
“Then come over here please and tell thisstore clerkprecisely with whom he is dealing.”
Another glance passed between them before they followed him.
“Tell him,” he said, pointing to Rundell. “Tell him who I am.”
“Certainly,” said the other of the two. “He is Lord Marshfield.”
“Ha!”Jasper exclaimed, feeling vindicated.
Mr. Rundell sighed, looking unimpressed. “That is all very well, but we still have a policy at our store, one we’ve had since first accepting goods as pawn in the mid-eighteenth century.”
“Pawn?” exclaimed the baron, and Jasper’s stomach clenched. He’d made a tactical error.
“Yes,” Mr. Rundell said. “If his lordship wishes to buy back his pin, which he is more than welcome to do, he must produce ready money or a London bank note.”
“I see,” Jasper said, realizing it made perfect sense and avidly wishing he hadn’t let his pride get the better of him. “Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all.”
“I can lend you some money,” the baron offered. “After all, it’s not like I can’t find you at the club to collect it should you try to hide on me.” He finished with a laugh.
Jasper felt his face grow warm. “That won’t be necessary. Just hold the damned pin,” he barked at Mr. Rundell, wrenching it from his pocket and slapping it back upon the velvet. “Do. Not. Sell. It. I’ll go to the bank and return with the funds directly. How much for it?”
The sum made clear to him he was being swindled, but he would pay anything to get his goods out of the store.
And he would compare the price later with Julia to find out how much profit Rundell, Bridge, and bloody Rundell had made! At which time, he might wring her pretty neck.
“I’ll hold it for the rest of the day, sir,” the man called out after him as he strode across the store. The implication was clear — if you don’t come back because you don’t have the cash, then I’ll sell it.
