The Vanishing Thief(45)
He gave one explosive laugh and then turned serious again. “That wouldn’t happen. You’re a lady.”
“No, I’m not, Your Grace. I’m a shopkeeper. I have calluses from hard work. I don’t have a houseful of servants and an estate in the country and a private income. I lost my parents at a young age. I’ve had to learn to rely on myself. My work for the Archivist Society makes self-reliance even more imperative.”
He stared into his tea, considering my words for a moment. “Fair enough. But you are a woman. And until God sees fit to change the universe, you will always be the weaker sex. This man has military training and fought nomads in the desert.”
“He sounds more capable than the ruffians I usually encounter. I’d like to meet him.” I caught the duke’s eye and smiled. He held my gaze as the edges of his lips curved upward.
“I’ll send him to your shop when he goes on duty tonight.” He picked up his cup and took another sip of tea.
As long as I was pushing my luck, I decided to see how far I could stretch the duke’s hospitality. “You mentioned the Duke of Merville’s reaction to Nicholas Drake included the words ‘it’s been over ten years.’ Could something have happened to one of his children so long ago that the event would still be worthy of blackmail? Do they all join him for the season every year?”
He set down his tea. “Merville had nothing to do with Drake’s disappearance. Of that, I am certain.”
“Why are you certain?”
He rose and strode around the small room without brushing against any of the bric-a-brac. I was amazed at how silently and gracefully he moved among the lace and tiny framed photographs and seashells and polished stones that covered every table and shelf.
He’d circled the room three times before I said, “Your Grace?”
“Perhaps because the duke has used the police to pursue Drake since his daughter’s party when her jewelry was discovered missing. Why would he ask the police to arrest Drake on one hand and take him prisoner on the other?”
“The Duke of Merville wanted to make sure if Mr. Drake escaped his attempts to capture him, the police would take him into custody. And who would suspect a man to both press charges and kidnap at the same time?”
He glared at me. “You’re far too devious. Merville wouldn’t think like that.”
“But you would, Your Grace.”
Before I could say more, he held up his hand. “I never pressed charges against Drake because I was not certain what he stole and what was given to him.”
“You believe your sister won’t ask for her jewelry because she freely gave it to Mr. Drake for some reason?” It made sense. So why did I feel the presence of some unseen force in this business?
“Drake has a powerful effect on women. My sister might have given him jewelry for a variety of reasons, including helping him out of a difficulty. Or he might have been pawning it on her behalf.” He paused and looked at me. “And her jewelry is her own to do with as she wants.”
“Clearly that’s not what Mr. Drake blackmailed you over.”
“Have you enjoyed your tea, Miss Fenchurch?”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. “Very much, thank you. It’s too bad you won’t aid us in our search for Nicholas Drake.”
“Why do you say that?”
We both knew he wasn’t helping us, despite his civility. And because of his civility, or an unwarranted attachment I was developing for the man who cared about my safety, I was more truthful with my answer than I’d ordinarily be. I felt my face heat as I admitted, “You’re a capable man. There aren’t too many of those in the world, and it would be nice to work with you rather than have you try to block our efforts.”
A crooked smile spread slowly across his face. “If I were truly a capable man, you wouldn’t have noticed my attempts to redirect you.”
“Why did you say you don’t want anyone to rescue Nicholas Drake but yourself?”
“I thought I’d managed to slip that mistake by you. But it’s a fair question.”
“I’d like a fair answer.” I held his gaze and my breath.
“I’d rather purchase Drake’s stolen papers and his silence so I can be certain no prying eyes read them than have the Archivist Society sort through them with their love of musty documents.”
“We are very discreet.” A thought struck me. “Unless you plan to abduct him to force him into a sale.”
“No. Whatever his price, I can meet it without resorting to coercion or breaking the law. Miss Fenchurch, aren’t there things you’d rather nobody knew, even if those who knew were discretion itself?”