Eleanor was taken aback at the bluntness of the question—one he had no proper right to ask. It’s not as though he’d made any declarations. They’d always just been casual acquaintances. They didn’t know each other well enough to be friends and the man had certainly never done anything to make her consider him a suitor.
But in that moment, she saw a hard glint of possessiveness in Ackerly’s eyes before he looked back to the dance floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly and quickly lowered his chin. The swift switch from slightly accusatory to remorseful was unsettling. “It’s not my place to say anything. It’s just…” He sighed and seemed to force himself to continue. “Lord Waring has a reputation for being insolent and disingenuous. I’d hate for you to get hurt by a man with such a selfish and wicked character.”
Still stunned by the direction of their conversation, but suddenly feeling rather annoyed that a man she barely knew felt he had a right to make any such assumption or advice to her, Eleanor tensed and turned her gaze forward, as well.
“While I appreciate your…intention,” she replied, “your opinion of those I choose to interact with is none of my concern.”
Another length of silence followed her words. Then Ackerly clicked his heels, gave a short bow, and strode away.
For a sharp second, she wondered if she’d been too harsh.
His manner suggested he was offended by her response, though by all rights, she was the one who should take offense at his forwardness. Then she recalled the strange way he’d looked at her and a shiver coursed through her. Lord Ackerly had never made her feeluncomfortable before—the opposite, in fact. But she wondered if perhaps she’d do well to avoid future interactions with him.
*
They will captureme. It’s inevitable. Do not give in to their demands.
The second message from Barnaby was just as inauspiciously received as the first. Instead of mud smeared over the parchment, however, the dark substance appeared suspiciously similar to blood.
Phin read through the note several times. Concern and confusion mingling in haphazard fashion. His instinct was to take action—move toward some goal or course. But he had no idea which direction to go or what response to make.
The letter had come from overseas but wasn’t dated or even signed. Nothing in the short missive pointed to where his friend might currently be located nor who was intent on capturing him. It was likely that Barnaby hadn’t the time to give any more information than he did, but that left Phin with no concept of how old the warning might be. And no way to know if his friend was in imminent danger.
Or if it was already too late.
Foolish, reckless dolt.
Phin took the note to his study and sat at his desk. Opening a small drawer, he removed the original note which had accompanied the necklace. Comparing the two, he noted how the parchment used for the second message was very different from the paper used for the first. The ink was also very different. In the second, Barnaby’s handwriting was more slanted and messier, suggesting distress or haste, at the very least. The first was more carefully written, the warning more subtle than this latest missive.
The situation was obviously escalating.
And yet, the words Barnaby had chosen—in this note and the first—strongly suggested the man hadn’t intended for his warnings toinspire Phin to save him. His friend’s only concern appeared to being keeping the necklace safe.
Damn.
Tucking the notes back into the drawer together, Phin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
What did he know as truth at this time?
Not a whole hell of a lot.
In the last few days, he’d been sorely tempted to send inquiries to anyone he could think of who might have a bit of information regarding such an unusual item. His travels had certainly introduced to him to a wide array of people with knowledge in many and curious areas. But always, Mr. Mishra’s reaction to his drawing and the man’s insistence that Phin tell no one else about it stopped him from reaching out to others.
As a result, the information in his possession remained extremely limited. He knew the necklace had come from Barnaby Weathers. He also knew it was real—real gold, real jewels,reallyold.
He knew Barnaby’s request had been to protect the necklace as he would his most prized possession.
In the first letter, Barnaby had implied he would come back for the necklace. He’d also said someone else would want it.
And whoeverthatwas had clearly discovered that Barnaby had sent the necklace to Phineas in London. Or at least, they’d suspected it. The security measures Iago had implemented around the townhouse had been effective as there had been no further break in attempts. He could only hope that after they found nothing in their initial search, the would-be burglars had been convinced Phineas didn’t have the necklace after all.
The second note strongly implied that whoever wanted the necklace had somehow found Barnaby. His friend had believed himself to be at an imminent risk of capture.
But to what end?
It was possible they would use Barnaby as a bargaining tool to get Phineas to turn over the necklace. If that was the case, they would not want to harm their captive or he’d lose his usefulness in any negotiation.
