“No doubt to add to his vast collection. I’m told he’s been acquiring pearls from all over the world and garnering quite the collection, from what I understand.”
“Why is he buying pearls?”
Race bent his head closer to hers, and once again, she didn’t flinch. He had to admit that most everything about her impressed him. She was too intelligent, too sensual, and too confident for her own good.
He eyed her skeptically as he whispered, “Are you sure you don’t know, Duchess?”
“I can tell you only the truth. I have never met nor have I ever had dealings with Captain Spyglass or any of these men you speak of. These documents prove the Talbot pearls belonged to my grandmother. They were stolen from her more than twenty-five years ago.”
He refused the papers yet again. He didn’t know if he should believe her about any of the men in question. Though in truth it hardly mattered. He didn’t know what kind of madcap scheme she had mulling in that pretty head of hers or why she had brought it to his door, but he wasn’t interested.
“I see no significance to your having documents. They can be easily forged to look old or authentic. But know this, Your Grace, there is no way I’m selling the pearls to a one-armed antiquities dealer, a pirate, or the Crown. And I’m sure as hell not going to be bluffed out of them by a beautiful duchess.”
Two
My Dearest Grandson Alexander,
What do you think about these wise words from Lord Chesterfield? “Take care never to seem dark and mysterious; which is not only a very un-amiable character, but a very suspicious one, too; if you seem mysterious with others, they will be really so with you, and you will know nothing.”
Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder
Susannah Brookefield, the Dowager Duchess of Blooming, had met her match, and he was standing before her, his nose to hers, in all his handsomeness. He was no ordinary man. Everything about him spoke of power, privilege, and wealth. The Marquis of Raceworth was just as she had imagined him: tall, self-confident, pleasing to look at, and terribly spoiled.
Not that she could really hold any of those things against him. Titled men were used to getting their way, but then she had to admit that so were most titled women, herself included, though she didn’t used to be so headstrong. Sometimes fate caught you unaware and startled you, as happened to her almost a dozen years ago.
Her gaze slowly rose past his clean-shaven chin to lips that were so masculine and so very close to her own that her heartbeat fluttered. She held her breath for a moment before looking into the most intriguing brownish-green eyes she had ever seen.
Susannah had long ago come to terms with her blemished reputation, and she hardly thought about it anymore. It was easy to forget the past when living in the quiet countryside, but here in London, where it happened, those old feelings of weakness and ridicule threatened to descend on her again. She would not let that occur. She would do what she must for her mother, but she would not fall victim to another charming, magnificent-looking man who set her heart to fluttering.
From somewhere deep inside herself, she found the strength to step away from Lord Raceworth and put a little distance between them before she asked, “Do you really think I would be here and subject myself to your scurrilous scrutiny if I was not certain the necklace belongs to my family?”
He gave her an indolent appraisal with his questioning gaze. She stood perfectly still, not saying a word as he studied her once again. She felt no guilt or shame when his gaze lingered for a few seconds on the swell of her breasts before returning to meet her stern stare once more.
“I don’t know, Your Grace, because I don’t know you. I have no idea what you are, or what you are not, capable of.”
Susannah hoped neither of them would have to ever find out. But so much for thinking this man would quietly read the documents, understand that he had stolen property, and calmly return it to her with no fuss or controversy. She could see now that she had been too innocent and had expected too much from this powerful man who looked at her with such intense feeling in his eyes. She hadn’t anticipated his strong attitude, though in retrospect she should have, considering his title. He obviously wasn’t used to anyone taking him to task.
By the tightness around his mouth, she sensed he was growing weary of their conversation, but how could she give up so easily?
She took a deep breath and asked, “Do you mind telling me how your grandmother came to be in possession of the pearls?”
He took an unfriendly step toward her, once again closing the distance she had put between them. A quickening feeling she didn’t quite understand started low in her abdomen and moved quickly to her breasts. She had to deny his strong appeal and remember the reason she was at his house. Her only interest in him was the pearls.
Not even the furrow on his brow could mar the attractiveness of his high cheekbones, well-defined lips, and his narrow, high-bridged nose. He stood straight, commanding, and powerful-looking. Thick light-brown hair was cropped short over his ears but fell longer and straight at his nape. And even with his elaborately-tied neckcloth and impeccably tailored coat, he somehow managed to look casually sophisticated.
“I don’t feel it’s necessary to assert my claim on them, and since I have no such inclination, I’ll refrain and simply say once again I do not intend to give up ownership of the necklace.”
His condescension knew no bounds, but she wouldn’t let him intimidate her with his strength. She must fortify herself with thoughts of her mother’s wan face and dull eyes, asking her to go to London, find the collar of pearls, and return them to the family.
Susannah gripped her hands together behind her back, hoping the marquis wouldn’t notice the tension inside her. Coming to London and approaching him about the pearls was not something she had wanted to do. For years, she had fiercely detested London Society with its rigid rules and endless penchant for gossip. The city held nothing for her but heart-wrenching memories she had buried long ago. She had hoped never to return and resurrect them.
“It’s come to mind,” the marquis said, “that maybe you are mixing the Talbot pearls with the Countess of Shrewsbury’s. Both were extremely rare necklaces, and I believe the countess had possession of both of them at one time.”
She glared at him and then gave him a humorless smile. “I’m sure you don’t really think that I don’t know the difference between the two necklaces.”
He lifted one eyebrow again. “There was reason for hope.”
