“And you’d be right. I do hate to disappoint a lovely lady, so I will honor your request. If Mr. Winston is at Lord Kendrickson’s party tomorrow evening, I’ll make sure to present him to you.”
“Thank you. And if you don’t mind, I have one more question.”
“Why stop now? Go ahead.”
“Do you know how I could go about finding Mr. Smith?”
Sir Randolph rubbed his enlarged hands together and thought for a moment. “His antiques shop is on Watford Lane. But, Duchess, I don’t think he is the kind of man you should be pursuing, no matter how good your reasons.”
“I understand your concerns, Sir Randolph.”
“You have me very curious, Duchess. I know Race well. I can’t believe that he would want you making plans to see these men.”
The heaviness returned to Susannah’s chest. “Believe me, Race does not care what I do or whom I see. I don’t think he would tell me the time of day if I asked him.” She rose. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Sir Randolph stood up, too. “There’s one other thing you should know before you go.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“I will tell Race about your visit and what I’m doing for you.”
She nodded. “I’m perfectly all right with that. He cannot think worse of me than he already does.”
Sir Randolph’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “What happened between you two?”
Susannah struggled to renew her inner strength. “I will let the marquis tell you.”
Sir Randolph hesitated but finally said, “Fair enough. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, but I’m grateful you have been so kind and helpful.”
“I just hope I don’t end up regretting this.”
“I’ll do my best to see you don’t.”
“Then I’ll see you at Lord Kendrickson’s tomorrow evening?”
She smiled. “Yes. Thank you, Sir Randolph. You have helped me greatly.”
“I don’t know that I have, Duchess. Only time will tell.”
She looked at him curiously as he walked with her to the door.
* * *
Half an hour later, a bell jangled as Mrs. Princeton opened the door of Smith’s Antiquities Shop at 139 Watford Street. Susannah stepped inside, and the first thing she noticed was the overpowering yet pleasant smell of citrus incense. The room was crowded with furniture but well lighted. At a quick glance, she counted four lamps burning brightly.
Obviously, Mr. Smith didn’t want anyone to have trouble seeing his wares, and by the fleeting glimpse she gave the place, she’d say most of his collection was more bizarre than traditional. The stuffed head of what looked like a wild boar stared directly at her from the front wall, two matching stone gargoyles with bright red eyes watched her from her right, and a life-size brass suit of armor stood on her left.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” a short, slim-built man said, appearing from behind a Japanese silk screen painted with gray swallows, colorful blossoms, and white cranes.
Susannah knew at once he had to be Mr. Albert Smith because Race had said that the man had only one arm. The empty sleeve of his black wool coat had been neatly folded and pinned at his shoulder. He wore an affable expression on his face, along with a pair of spectacles that rode low on the bridge of his nose. From behind the screen, another man stepped into her view. He was younger, taller, and more robust.
“Sir, I am the Dowager Duchess of Blooming.”
His light blue eyes widened with eager surprise. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he said and immediately bowed. “Thank you for coming into my humble shop. I am Mr. Smith, and this is my associate Mr. Helms. How may I assist you?”
Susannah didn’t want to appear anxious, and she hoped her own nervousness didn’t show. “I would like to browse through your shop, if you don’t mind. I see you have many extraordinary pieces that have already caught my eye.”
