‘What ‘appened to the diamonds, eh? Who ‘as ‘im?’ Hawkins delivered a solid punch to the shopkeeper’s midsection, though the man had crumbled against the back wall of the shoe shop two strikes before. ‘Gulliver, search the rack over ‘ere.’ He jerked his head to the right and indicated the last corner of the store which remained intact. Otherwise every carton, crate and box had been opened, broken and discarded in their search for the missing stones, the shelves and display compartments left in a crippled shamble.
‘Got it.’
‘Last chance to speak up, ol’ man.’ Hawkins nudged Horne’s chest with the tip of his boot, but the old man remained silent, barely conscious and bleeding from a bruise on his temple. ‘Looks like we’re goin’ to ‘ave to do this the ‘ard way then.’
Wilhelmina entered Allington Diamonds ahead of her husband, anxious to look at the glittering jewellery displayed in each case, an array of sapphires, rubies, and the finest gemstones available for sale. She wished to choose the ideal gift for her sister now that she had the means to do so. With the assistance of Aunt Kate, they’d overcome hardship and adversity, coupled with Livie’s physical ailments, and now were once again secure and happy. Such a worthy accomplishment deserved a memorable gift to herald the occasion. She thought to add a charm to the recovered silver bracelet but discarded the idea as soon as it formed. Something new and entirely belonging to Livie seemed necessary and the finest jeweller’s in London was the location to discover the perfect gift.
Tossing a glance over her shoulder to where Dashwood conversed with a well-dressed elderly gentleman near the front of the establishment, she meandered through the showcases, awed by the sparkle and shine. Two young clerks milled about assisting other customers and polishing glass, but otherwise the shop was quiet. Light flooded the cases from the overhead windows and Whimsy smiled at the reflective beauty twinkling around her. Walking past a display of betrothal rings, she paused beside a small display case featuring clever bracelets and pins in every design imaginable. Dash joined her soon after.
‘Is the older gentleman you spoke with someone you know?’ She didn’t look up as she asked the question, her attention snagged by a lovely brooch composed of emeralds and brilliant oblong diamonds. The arrangement resembled a caterpillar with intricate gold scrollwork around the edges and head. How befitting a pin, considering Livie’s complete transformation. A spark of an idea took hold.
‘Yes. I will introduce you as soon as he has a free moment.’ Dash peeked over her shoulder to view the case which held her attention. ‘Do you see something you favour? I know I do.’
She felt his smile against her cheek. Good heavens, would she ever grow accustomed to his proximity? Butterflies fluttered to life in her belly no matter she’d begun to think of them as she stared at the case. ‘All the pieces are grand, but I hope to find something meaningful and significant. We’ve travelled a long road to reach this point.’
‘And in those travels I found you.’ He sounded amused.
‘Dash.’ She bowed her head, inordinately pleased by her husband’s heartfelt sincerity. ‘If I may correct the retelling, you were stubborn and hardheaded for most of our courtship, if one can even label our association in that manner. You proposed to me while I sat in the bath after I’d thrown you off the porch. Now do you recall?’ She offered him a smile, delighted with her husband’s uxorious doting, but, regardless, pulled the conversation back to the matter at hand. Time was limited and she wanted to accomplish the task and return to Kirby Park with Livie none the wiser. ‘We are lucky indeed. I truly hope Livie discovers a love like ours. Thank goodness she’s stopped mooning over those old letters. I had no idea she’d invested such sentiment and regard into their existence until I attempted to question her one day.’ She narrowed her eyes, still trying to work through the devout secrecy Livie practised concerning her correspondence. ‘She deserves a husband who will cherish every facet of her personality and treasure her above all else.’
Dash leaned in and dropped a secret peck to her cheek. ‘Indeed, I agree.’
They may have been married over a year, but his tender affection never failed to warm her from the inside out. He chuckled as he noticed her fluster.
‘Perhaps we should make quick work of this errand and return home with haste.’ His voice dropped low with the husky suggestion.
‘A proposition worthy of consideration.’ Offering a coy grin, she returned her attention to the jewellery, not missing his rakish wink. ‘Is there someone who can help us make a selection?’
Acting on her enquiry, Dash pivoted towards the gentleman he’d previously greeted at the door, and with a nod the elderly man approached.
‘Mr Allington, may I present my wife, a rare and precious gem in her own right.’
Wilhelmina flushed a shade darker as she greeted the owner of the establishment. ‘I’m pleased to meet such a talented goldsmith. Your reputation as the finest jeweller in London is showcased here in every piece. My sister is having her debut and I hope to find something very special.’
‘Then we shan’t be looking at ordinary emeralds and rubies.’ Allington snapped his fingers and an ambitious clerk appeared with expedience to execute his bidding. He issued instructions to the worker before requesting her attention. ‘If you would accompany Hoskins to the far corner of the store, he will show you my private collection. The designs are created from the finest gemstones and exist as one-of-a-kind pieces. No one will have the same bauble and I believe you will find each remarkable. With luck, you’ll discover the perfect gift for your sister.’
Wilhelmina looked towards Dash for subtle affirmation before he continued conversation with the jeweller. She began after the young clerk, her attention drawn to the front door as a dashing, well-dressed fellow entered to a friendly greeting from an assistant near the door. She heard Mr Allington make his excuses in her wake.
‘Pardon me, Dashwood, my future son-in-law has arrived and I’ve promised to discuss a special consignment for his wedding gift to my daughter. Nothing but the rarest find to celebrate their joyous union.’
Mr Allington brushed past Wilhelmina on his way to speak to the newly arrived gentleman and she thought little of the remark, confident a multitude of suitors and grooms frequented the storefront to purchase expensive presents for their sweethearts. But in her slowed steps as she considered the man of her heart, she turned to sneak another glance at her handsome husband left idle near the far wall. It was then his expression made her breath catch in alarm. Dashwood stared towards the threshold of the store and his face reflected enraged concern, something gone terribly wrong.
‘Esme, which shoes complement my gown best?’ Livie indicated two pair of slippers waiting on the foot of her bed. ‘The ivory silk matches the skirt colour exactly, but the seed pearl trim is hardly visible.’ She flicked her pointer finger towards the left. ‘The champagne pink mules are marvellous and the heels are higher, although I’m not sure I can dance well in them.’
‘Where ever did you ever these?’ Esme stood near the dressing table, the diamond shoe clips laid across her palm, her hand thrust forward. ‘They’re gorgeous. Are these real stones?’
‘Oh, those.’ Livie rushed towards Esme and recovered the clips as she frowned with indecision. ‘I need to return them to Mr Horne. They were included in the shoe carton I took home from Lott’s, but the entire package was a mistake. I haven’t convinced myself to give them back – the clips, I mean. I’ve already returned the boots.’ When her friend’s eyes flared in objection, Livie continued in fast defence, ‘Aren’t they pretty? Besides…’ She moved to the mattress where the ivory slippers waited. ‘Attached to the ivory slippers, they are beyond beautiful.’
‘You have to give them back.’ Esme shook her head for emphasis in much the way an adult reprimands a child.
‘I know. I’ve already kept them too long. Will you come along? If Whimsy catches me at Lott’s she’ll hang me by my ankles.’ Livie offered a pleading glance. ‘That way, if by chance we’re caught in the act you can simply say I accompanied you.’
‘I’d rather not tell an untruth. Your sister always knows when I’m hiding something.’ Esme picked up one of the shoes in question and turned it over in her hand.
‘Lud, I will be with you. It’s all in the interpretation.’ A weak smile turned her lips. ‘Just this once and then I won’t mention shoes for the rest of my life.’
Esme’s slender eyebrow arched in doubt as she replaced the mule on the counterpane.
‘All right,’ Livie admitted with reluctance, ‘that is an improbability, but I will owe you the greatest favour. Won’t that suffice?’
‘I suppose,’ Esme replied with reluctance, seemingly at war with her better sense.
‘Then let’s go now. Whimsy is still out with Dash and with any luck we can return to Kirby Park before anyone notices we’ve left.’ Livie hurried towards the door, not wanting to chance Esme having a change of heart.
But their smooth course of action did not actuate as planned. When the threesome arrived at Lott’s, for Dinah was inclined to accompany the ladies, the storefront stood dark, the door locked no matter it was half past one in the afternoon and optimum shopping hour.
‘Now I don’t know what to do. This is highly unusual for Mr Horne to be closed. I wonder if he is unwell. This is all rather odd.’ Livie leaned forward and peered into the large display window a second time, her hand levelled above her brows to shield from the sun. ‘Is that a cat on the counter? Am I seeing things? Mr Horne has several, I believe. I remember he once became caretaker to a cat who had its litter in the alley behind the shop. Not wishing to disturb the new family, he chose not to use the backdoor for weeks until the mother moved on.’
‘Honestly, you spend entirely too much time in this store if you know about the stray cats in the alley. Your relationship with Mr Horne is unusual.’ Esme blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Whatever the reason, we’ve come all this way for nothing. What a waste of time.’
‘That settles it. I have no choice but to keep the shoe clips safe until Mr Horne reopens the shop and I pay him a call.’ Livie stood with her hands on her hips, decision made. ‘It can’t possibly hurt to wear them tomorrow night for my debut.’
‘Really? What if you lose one? What if somehow the clip becomes damaged?’ Esme pivoted, set to walk to the corner where the carriage waited with Dinah inside.
‘What if a very handsome suitor sees them and realises I have impeccable taste to match my remarkable dancing and we live happily ever after?’ A ready image of Penwick’s dashing smile materialised in Livie’s mind’s eye.
They shared a lighthearted chuckle until Esme sent her a sidelong glance. ‘Are you going to flirt with Penwick tomorrow evening? Seduce him with smooth dancing and demure conversation?’
‘I can only wish.’ A dreamy smile played about her mouth and she set it free. ‘I can’t stop thinking about our kiss. Everything about the moment is etched in my memory with the finest detail. It was dark in that alcove, but I remember the heat of his touch, delicious smell of his cologne, and the incredible riot of emotion with perfect accuracy. And to think I’ll have the same opportunity tomorrow evening. I do hope all goes as intended. Whimsy has planned the necessary provisions, but for me, the success of the evening hinges on Penwick’s attendance.’ She paused as if to absorb the impact of her statement. ‘Then I need only ask him for escort out on the terrace.’
‘Imagine both Montgomery sisters wedded to earls in consecutive years. The most inexhaustible gossips in London will be forced to acknowledge how very well you’ve collectively managed the marriage mart.’ Esme sounded significantly impressed.
‘I haven’t managed anything yet.’ The reality of that statement was a bitter pill to swallow. ‘I hardly know Penwick aside from his kiss.’ She sighed and stopped short, the carriage a stone’s throw away. Someone behind her mumbled in complaint at her sudden halt in the middle of the sidewalk and bustled past grumbling loudly, but Livie paid no heed.
‘It seems to me a very good place to begin.’ Esme stopped and placed her hand on Livie’s arm in reassurance. ‘What’s the matter?’
Livie shook her head and dismissed the realisation that she had known Randolph so completely without ever having met him, yet one kiss with the Earl had her tied in knots, unsure of everything from footwear to the future. The world was certainly a difficult place to manage. ‘Never mind. We should return before I develop any more harebrained ideas.’
‘Strickler.’
‘Yes, milord.’ The servant stepped from the corner of the dressing room, a fresh pressed waistcoat on a hanger and various dressing articles in hand.
‘I will need a bag packed for two nights, at most.’ Penwick tugged at his shirt sleeves to straighten his lines.
‘Yes, milord. Will you need formal attire to accompany your daily wear?’ Strickler removed the garment from the hanger and offered it forward.
‘No, thank you. Nothing for evening is necessary, nor my fencing plastron and breeches, although I would like my epee and gloves included. One never knows when a sword will come in handy.’ He slid his pocket watch into his vest and attached the chain to the silk thread loop.
‘As you often say, milord.’ Strickler stepped away and returned with black Hessians. ‘Will I accompany you on this travel come morning?’
‘Again, that won’t be necessary.’ He paused, exhausted by the formality of it all, desiring a more congenial relationship and not adept at the transition. At a loss, he blurted out his quandary. ‘I am confounded by my impending nuptials and need a bit of time away.’
Strickler stood silent, as if caught unaware by the personal declaration, and he likely was, Penwick not forthcoming with matters of weighty consideration.
Strickler nodded his head as if he understood without further explanation. ‘It is a natural occurrence. Not all gentlemen transition into husbandry with the natural fluidity experienced by others.’
‘That was very well done of you, Strickler, but the truth prevails I’m concerned I’m making a mistake.’ Voicing the words aloud, at last, proved incredibly freeing. He took a deep breath, and then another, invigorated by the sheer act of confession. ‘Claire is a comely, biddable miss.’
‘How do you feel when you are with your betrothed?’ Strickler busied himself with periphery tasks.
‘I feel as I should – capable, decisive and strong.’ A flare of shame swept through him at his failure to say more, but listing Claire’s attributes neither resolved his unrest nor convinced him he’d made the right choice.
‘And how do you feel when you are with the lady who’s caught your interest?’
Penwick’s head shot up from where he’d worked the buttons at his cuff. He matched eyes with his valet. How did Strickler know? Lord, was his turmoil so apparent? He turned towards the cheval glass, choosing his words carefully. ‘I cannot think. I cannot reason. She overcomes my senses, and from it, I am weakened.’
‘Then indeed you have a decision to make, milord.’
The silence which followed imposed a heavy burden until at last Strickler broke the quiet.
‘I will make the necessary arrangements and see you have all necessities in your valise. Is there anything else, milord?’
Penwick might have chuckled from the irony. ‘No, thank you. You are dismissed.’