“If you truly want to know where the rest of the jewelry is, you should inquire at the more upmarket pawnshops and work your way down to the less reputable shops.” Carenza paused. “Of course, if you’d consulted Mr. Hoskins, he could probably have told you exactly where Hector had disposed of the jewelry. Hoskins was very close with Hector.”
“I doubt your former husband was friends with a servant.”
“Hector, for all his faults, was devoted to those he considered his friends. He grew up with Mr. Hoskins, and Hoskins remained loyal to him even during the worst of times. If Hector wanted to pawn something, he would’ve taken Mr. Hoskins along with him. Perhaps if you wrote to him, he might help you.”
“I have no idea where the man is, and I doubt he could assist me, anyway.”
Carenza frowned. “But Mr. Hoskins and his family had accommodation in one of the mews cottages behind the house. Did you evict them?”
“Of course I did.”
Carenza stared at Lady Harriet. “Hoskins cared for his sick mother, and after his wife died, two of his daughters lived with him. One of them lost her husband at Waterloo.”
“None of which is my concern.” Lady Harriet poked her husband’s shoulder as the footmen filled the table with desserts Carenza feared she’d be unable to eat. “She says she hasn’t got any more of our jewelry.”
The earl gave his wife a quick nod and tried to return to his conversation with his hostess, but Lady Harriet was having none of it. “ShesaysHector is responsible for the losses, but I doubt that.”
“Hector?” Aragon joined the conversation. “That man would pawn anything if it gave him a few extra guineas at the gaming table.” He laughed heartily. “I once saw him turn out his pockets, strip off his rings, and add his watch and chain just to win a bet on a card game. And he still lost.” He turned to Carenza. “I don’t know how you put up with him, ma’am.”
Carenza smiled politely, but Aragon was in full flow.
“He wagered your favored mare on a race, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And lost it, of course, because he was blind, reeling drunk at the time—begging your pardon, ladies—and shouldn’t have been allowed near a gaming table or a racecourse.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t as bad as all that,” the new earl said.
“Yes, he was.” Aragon nodded. “An absolute wastrel.”
Lady Harriet glanced pointedly at Carenza. “Perhaps he needed wiser guidance at home.”
“No,” Aragon said simply. “He was a bad man.” He winked at Carenza. “That mare of mine you rode in the park the other day? I chose her specifically because she’s descended from the same line as the one you lost.”
“That was very kind of you, sir.” Carenza smiled at him.
“It was nothing.” Aragon looked embarrassed. “I just remember at the time thinking it wasn’t right that Hector took away something you loved.”
Lady Isobel cleared her throat. “Would the ladies like to join me in the drawing room and leave the gentlemen to their port?”
Carenza would much rather have stayed with the gentlemen, but she rose to her feet and dutifully followed the countess to the rather chilly drawing room. It was decorated in shades of the palest blue and cream, rather like a Wedgewood dish. Carenza wouldn’t mention that bit of whimsy to her hostess. Lady Isobel’s dislike of Carenza perhaps rivaled Lady Harriet’s.
Carenza walked over to the window that overlooked the square. It was already dark, and a splattering of rain hit the square windowpanes and rattled the glass. She was tired of pretending that everything was fine and wished she could go home.
“Are you all right?” Allegra came to her side.
“I will be. I wish we hadn’t come.”
“I’ve quite enjoyed getting the best of Lady Harriet, and both of the Laurents have been resolute in their defense of you.”
“Yes, they have.”
“I know you cannot come to care for Aragon, but he is being remarkably sweet.” Allegra lowered her voice. “Which hasn’t gone down well with his mama. Brace yourself, sister. I suspect Lady Isobel has a few things to make clear to you as well.”
Carenza squared her shoulders and went to join the other ladies, who were grouped around the fireplace.
Lady Isobel looked up as she approached. “Would you care for some tea, Lady Smythe-Harding?”
