His father hadn’t been as daring, because any money Sir Benedict had come into slipped through his fingers immediately, but several of Sir Benedict’s cronies had tried such schemes. They would pay the first investor with money from the second, pay the second from the third, and so on, after skimming off a large portion for themselves, of course.
“But then, some people began to grow restless,” Caro was saying. “When they’d inquire about how their investment was doing, Rudyard would evade the question or send them a placating letter. I believe Rudyard keeps all the money and has never invested at all.”
“I believe you are right,” Eamon said, catching her animation. “Have you found proof?”
Caro nodded, tendrils of hair dancing, as they did in every sketch Eamon had made of her. “Lady Carmichael has suspected him of it for a time. She’s asked among her friends, and I had Jo and Louise do the same. It turns out that plenty of people have entrusted Rudyard with their money. Even if they don’t like him personally, he is the nephew of my late husband, whom they did like. Leopold was always painfully honest, and I suppose those who don’t know Rudyard well assume he must be the same.”
“Which explains why he’s so keen to be duke,” Eamon mused. “Though there’s no money in the title, he’d have lands and some protection if his schemes come to light. Sooner or later, though, he will have to answer …”
“He will,” Caro said in satisfaction. “We are rounding up our army to expose him.” She finished with a smile of triumph.
If she would only cease being beautiful for a few moments, Eamon might remember how to breathe.
“This is excellent news,” he managed to say. “My friends and I will do everything in our power to help you.” Eamon dipped a hand into the pocket of his frock coat. “But as much as I’d like to rush out and drag Rudyard before a magistrate on the moment, I do have something for you.”
“Oh, yes, for the Rembrandt.” Caro clasped her hands, her smile broadening. “You do not have to give me the money, you know. Take it to Leo’s man of business. I’m certain he’ll be excited to hand it out to the creditors, which will be such a help. Thank you, Eamon.”
She would slay him with her praise. Eamon tamped down his impatient desires and forced himself back to the task at hand.
“This has nothing to do with the money. The funds are with Leo’s man of business even now.” One of Eamon’s errands had been to that gentleman.
Caro regarded him with eager anticipation. “Have you located another painting?”
“Not yet, but please let me finish.”
“I beg your pardon.” Caro’s attempt to be contrite made her more enticing than ever. “I simply haven’t been hopeful for a while. What is this something?”
“A small token.” Eamon pulled a velvet bag from his pocket. Under the watchful eye of the faux Diana on the table next to them, he opened it.
Caro caught the flash of light within. “What on earth?”
Eamon lifted a thin gold strand studded with diamonds from the pouch. “I’ve been wanting to see this on you,” he said softly.
Caro’s lips parted as she stared at the diamonds in wonderment. “No, I could not possibly …”
“You could. Most definitely.”
Eamon stepped behind her, as he’d pictured himself doing so many times, and laid the necklace around her throat. He fastened the catch, pleased that his fingers didn’t shake.
The necklace was not something he’d simply found at a jeweler’s stall. Eamon had run down an old friend of his father’s in Hatton Garden and told the man exactly what sort of adornment he’d wanted for Caro.
The man was a genius, setting ten diamonds perfectly along the gold strand. The necklace had taken every last pence of the money Eamon had recovered from Colonel Harper for the painting, but viewing the diamonds resting on Caro’s bosom was worth it.
“Really, Eamon, I cannot take this.” Caro’s voice was almost a whisper.
“I am happy you like it.”
“I do.” Caro gazed up at him with soft eyes, fingers resting lightly on the chain. “I adore it. You are far too kind.”
“It has nothing to do with kindness.” Eamon brushed the necklace, her flesh warm through her gauzy fichu. “I want you to be my duchess in diamonds. Nothing less will do for you.”
“Because we are lovers now,” she said shyly.
“Nothing to do with being lovers, either.” Another caress, catching her fingers with it. “I want you to have it. Now you do not have to borrow your friends’ jewels when you attend their balls.”
“Ah.” Caro’s look turned teasing. “It is out of pity, then.”
“Why does there have to be a reason?” Eamon drew her to him. “My reason is I want you to be happy. Seeing your eyes light like they are now is reason enough.”
