“So you invited her to your card party? How did you know she was in Town? And what’s this about her claiming Grandmother’s pearls belong to her family?”
“That’s part of the irony of this entire story,” Morgan said, speaking for Race once again. “Race didn’t invite her. He had never even heard of her until she arrived at his door and demanded to see him.”
“It wasn’t a demand,” Race countered.
“I distinctly remember you thought so at the time.”
“Morgan, that’s enough,” Race muttered.
“Oh, quite right,” he said sarcastically. “I keep forgetting it’s your story to tell. I’ll just end my part of it by saying I can’t believe she’s been hiding up in Blooming all these years, unless of course she had a very good reason to stay there.”
Race threw imaginary daggers at Morgan’s chest.
“So you took her to the park today,” Blake said. “My, my, things are moving fast, but tell me more about her claim. I knew you had some unsavory men asking about the pearls. By the way, I saw that fop Captain Spyglass last night. He was at the Great Hall, dancing with every young lady whose mother would let him near her daughter.”
Morgan grunted. “I can’t figure out why any of them would. It’s all over London that he obtained his wealth by pirating ships.”
“But not proven,” Race added.
“It must be the secrecy that surrounds him that intrigues the ladies,” Morgan said, picking up the claret decanter. “I suppose that’s why people invite him to their parties. For some damned reason, they think it adds an element of danger and mystery to their lives to be associated with a man who might very well be a real pirate.”
“And all it really adds is an unsavory character into their lives,” Blake inserted.
The cousins laughed.
“So tell me more about why the dowager thinks our grandmother’s pearls belong to her family.”
“She says they were stolen more than twenty-five years ago,” Morgan said.
“Morgan, do you mind if I tell this story?”
“No, please do,” he said innocently. “You tell it. I’ll pour myself another glass of wine.”
Race had said all he was going to say about Susannah or the pearls. “There’s nothing more to tell.”
“That means she is as secretive about her past as is Captain Spyglass,” Morgan said, “but Race decided he didn’t want to know about it from anyone but her. However, I would like to know anything you can tell me, Blake.”
Race started toward Morgan and then stopped. “Blast it, Morgan, would you just get your wine and be quiet.”
“Easy, Race,” Blake said, holding up his hand to stop Race. “I would tell either of you anything I knew. I simply don’t know anything about her, but that said, it wouldn’t take me long to find out.”
“No,” Race said firmly. “I’m quite capable of finding out anything about her I want to know. And just so you know, Morgan, Gibby met her this afternoon. He knew her husband well.”
“Hmm. So did you talk to him about her?”
“Prattle showed up before much was said.”
“I’m just going to say one last thing,” Morgan said as he recapped the wine decanter.
“Don’t,” Race and Blake said at the same time.
Morgan laughed and then said, “Race is going to have a quite good time getting to know this beautiful lady and getting to the bottom of why she thinks the pearls belong to her family.”
“Why didn’t you just ask her?” Blake asked, looking confused.
Morgan sat back down in his chair and sipped his wine. “That would be too easy. Once he knows that, the intrigue surrounding her will be gone, and he fancies the idea of not knowing.”
“Go to hell, Morgan.”
