Mrs Merriweather shifted uncomfortably. ‘Should we not inform His Grace?’
Grace grimaced. The very thought of facing the Duke again made her stomach churn. ‘I will... soon.’
They arrived at the watchmaker’s shop—a modest, unassuming building that barely resembled a shop at all. A small, discreet sign on the door was the only indication of its purpose.
Had they not known to look for it, they might have walked past without ever noticing.
Grace knocked twice.
Silence.
She knocked again.
After a moment, a young man answered. He eyed them with suspicion. ‘Yes?’
Grace produced the gold watch from her reticule. ‘I wonder, sir, if you might recognise this piece?’
The young man’s eyes widened. He hesitated before taking it from her and examining the engravings.
His expression turned wary. ‘Where did you come by this, miss?’
Grace affected a mild tone, as though this were merely a social errand. ‘My friend and I found it while walking in Hyde Park. It looks like a keepsake—judging by the engravings, it must hold sentimental value. We have made it our mission to find the owner.’
She infused just the right amount of aristocratic entitlement into her voice, as if returning a lost trinket was the most pressing concern of her day.
It worked.
The young man relaxed slightly. ‘Apologies, miss, I meant no offence. It is just... an unusual request.’
‘I understand,’ Grace said smoothly. ‘Can you tell me if you’ve seen it before?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. This has the markings of my father’s work.’
A real lead at last! The rush of possibility sent her pulse into a gallop.
‘Oh! Then you must know who it belongs to—I should very much like to return it to him.’ She played up her girlish enthusiasm, tilting her head in what she hoped was an innocent, well-bred fashion.
The young man hesitated, then said, ‘I will fetch my father. He may remember better than I.’
He disappeared into the back room.
A long while later, an elderly man emerged, moving with slow, careful steps. His frail frame and hunched back made Grace anxious that he might collapse before reaching them.
He peered at her through watery eyes, his face wrinkled with years of experience. ‘Ah, Miss, it seems you are on a mission.’ He chuckled. ‘Honest folk are rare these days. Most would have sold this watch.’
Grace forced herself to remain patient. ‘It is important that we return it to its rightful owner.’
The watchmaker examined the piece for a long moment before nodding.
‘Yes, I remember making this, many years ago. It has a twin, you know.’
Grace’s brow furrowed. ‘A twin?’
The old man smiled. ‘Indeed. The gentleman who commissioned it wished to keep one for himself and gift the other to his brother. He came to me only a few weeks ago, very distressed, saying he had lost it.’
He gestured to the gold watch resting on the counter.
‘He asked if I could make a replica, but I had to disappoint him. My hands are not what they used to be.’ He lifted trembling fingers. ‘I have retired now, you see. I still tinker with repairs, but I no longer craft new pieces.’
