“I would not miss it,” he said, his brows dancing suggestively.
Catherine scoffed. “I’m sitting right here.”
“Oh, you’re invited, too,” Eliza said. “Although, I can’t help but wonder if you won’t be otherwise engaged.” She waggled her dark brows.
Her cheeks once again burning with embarrassment, Catherine finished off her tea. “Seeing as how I need a ride home, I, too, must take my leave of you,” she said to Eliza. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Eliza sighed happily. “You’re very welcome. Do have a good day.”
Catherine departed Buxton House on the arm of her father as a footman finished sweeping the snow from the pavement leading to their coach.
Chapter Twenty-Six
One Earl, One Father
Later that day, Kingston House
Anxiousness had Matthewarriving at Kingston House at least ten minutes earlier than the time he had proposed in his note to Cornelius Kingston.
After leaving Buxton House earlier that morning, he’d had his driver take him back to Wingfield House so he could change clothes and finish the breakfast he and Catherine had been enjoying before the topic ofLady Wingfieldhad been broached.
Knowing all the goldsmiths in St. James’s Street would be closed on a Sunday, he ventured into the mistress suite of Wingfield House in search of one of his late mother’s rings.
Although he expected the room to smell of disuse, he was surprised to discover the drapes had been opened and the scent of split wood hovering near the fireplace. No dust covered the surfaces of the dresser or the counterpane.
He peeked into the wardrobe, not surprised to find it empty but for a pair of dance slippers. They had been his mother’s and looked as if they had never been worn. One seemed to be missing a decorative clip, though. He was about to close the door when he noticed the bottom of the wardrobe seemed higher on the inside than it did on the outside. Bending down, he realized why. A drawer appeared to exist between the two wood panels, however there was no knob or pull on the front. There was a small hole, though, as if there had at one time been a knob there.
None of his fingers were small enough to fit into the round hole, nor could he grip the top edge of the drawer front with his fingertips. He glanced at the shoes again, noting the decorative clip covering the toe. Lifting the shoe, he discovered the decoration wasn’t attached at all when it fell onto the floor.
Studying it, he realized the backside included a protrusion, one that appeared to be the same size as the hole in the drawer. He tried inserting it and felt a jolt of excitement when it seemed to click into place.
Tugging it forward caused the drawer to slide open.
His mother’s jewel box was the only thing in the drawer, its elaborate chinoiserie design embedded in brass. Although there was a keyhole on the front, the box wasn’t locked. Fearing he would find it empty—his father might have nicked the jewels to use when gambling—he lifted the lid and was pleasantly surprised to discover it was full.
He used a forefinger to push aside the contents in the hopes he might discover a ring. Soon he was pulling out strands of gemstones and pearls and placing them in lines on the fake floor of the wardrobe. He matched the pieces to discover an entire parure of sapphires and diamonds and another of pearls, each set including a necklace, bracelet, brooch, earbobs, and a ring.
Left in the bottom of the box were three additional rings—all gold bands set with gemstones—a hair comb encrusted with a line of emeralds, and a number of ten-pound banknotes.
Chuckling softly, he pulled out the notes and counted out five of them. “Bless you, Mother,” he whispered. He returned the others to the box before he began examining the rings.
He recognized two of them—audacious baubles meant to be worn to balls andsoirées—while the third was far more delicate and understated. A single blue sapphire was set in gold with three smaller diamonds on either side, those mounted in gold onthe band. If there had ever been any engraving inside the gold band, it was long worn away.
“Bless you, Mother,” he repeated on a sigh of relief.
Carefully returning the jewels to the box, he paused and studied the comb.
He thought of how the emeralds would look amongst Catherine’s red curls. Perhaps she would wear it the day they exchanged their vows—ifhe could convince her to marry him. He had every intention of doing so after he met with her father later that afternoon.
He placed the comb back into the jewel box and set the box back into the drawer. After sliding it shut and straightening—he winced at the sounds his knees and back made as he did so—he noticed how the knob matched those on the outside of the wardrobe. Even with the decorative pull in place, the doors of the wardrobe were able to close all the way.
“Clever mother,” he said softly.
Tucking the ring into his waistcoat pocket, Matthew took a quick look through the drawers of the dresser, happy to discover they were empty and ready for a new Lady Wingfield.
HisLady Wingfield.
For only afew minutes, the sun peeked through the clouds and bathed Westminster in winter sunshine. Pulled from his brief reverie by the rare display, Matthew stepped down from the Wingfield town coach and made his way to the front door of Kingston House.
