He was out of my league in every way but one. I had the quicker mind.
He smiled slightly. “You will wear jewels.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Your Grace.”
“Whoever is after Drake will recognize fakes by the lack of pride you show in them. Bring Emma to Lady Westover’s tonight when you close your shop. You need to become accustomed to wearing jewels, so we’ll practice.”
Lady Westover’s words You are not one of us rang in my head as the duke swooped around and strode to the door. “Aren’t you afraid someone will steal them?” I asked.
“We’re not dealing with a jewel thief. We’re dealing with a madman.”
His certainty alerted all my senses. “You know who it is?”
“No. But I suspect who it is.”
“Who?”
“It’s a suspicion based on only one thing. I need more evidence.”
“And we’re the bait.” I was becoming very sorry I’d agreed to attend this ball. “Who will you be dressed as?”
“A highwayman.”
How appropriate.
“And before you ask: my weapons will be real.”
I never doubted that for a moment.
Not two minutes after the duke left, the bell jingled over my door again. I looked up, hoping for a paying customer, but I was sadly disappointed. It was Viscountess Dalrymple, Lady Dutton-Cox’s living daughter, alone this time but for her footman. The carriage again waited outside my door. Remembering my regrettable confrontation with Lady Dutton-Cox, I expected another lecture from her daughter.
Instead, her tone was begging. “Leave my mother alone. Please.”
“I will if you’ll tell me what I want to know about your sister and Nicholas Drake.”
She went from pleading to angry in an instant. “There was nothing between them. You shouldn’t listen to malicious gossip.”
“I don’t. I have questions about both of them, but it was you he was blackmailing, wasn’t it?”
She looked around the shop in panic. Fortunately from her point of view, it was empty. “No.”
I’d rather be making a sale in my bookshop than listening to a silly young lady lie. “I know Drake was blackmailing you. I’ve had it confirmed.” I wasn’t about to tell her by her mother.
“You’ve found Drake?”
I suspected the key to keeping Drake safe was in not answering that question. “Drake isn’t the only one who knows about his blackmailing you.”
She pouted. Really? She was much too old for that sort of behavior. “Why should I tell you anything? I neither like you nor trust you.”
“You may not like me or trust me, but believe me, I will find out all the details. It will make life for you and your parents much easier if you tell me.” We were glaring at each other as we leaned over the counter, our noses nearly touching.
I took a deep breath and stepped back before I continued. “I have no desire to tell your husband anything or to blackmail you. I have other issues to investigate, but until I get this out of the way, I will haunt you.”
“You’re right. Drake was blackmailing me.” The viscountess sounded so miserable I was certain I’d hear the truth. The electric lights overhead showed her frown lines and bitten lower lip in stark relief.
“Why?”
Elizabeth Dalrymple walked in a small circle, waving her hands. “I wrote Drake stupid, childish, idiotic letters. It was silly, impulsive, but he held them over my head. If the viscount had known, he would never have married me. As it is, if he knew, he’d never trust me again.”
“Your father met Drake’s blackmail demands until after you were married?”
“Yes. We went to the continent for our honeymoon and no one heard from Drake until after we returned. Then Drake approached my father, who’d had enough. He told my blackmailer he couldn’t do any further damage and to go away.”
“Instead, he went to your husband.”
“Yes, but there Drake made his mistake. He asked the viscount for money to keep silent. Drake thought my father would have already told my husband about the blackmail. My husband, not knowing anything about the letters, demanded Drake give a full explanation of why he was asking for money.
“Drake was astounded. His business requires secrecy, and here the viscount was demanding he state his business in front of anyone walking through the lobby of his club. Drake kept asking for a private meeting, and the viscount refused. Perhaps my husband suspected I’d been indiscreet and didn’t want to learn about my failings. In the end, he had the doorman throw Drake out of his club.”
She faced me, both hands on the counter. “I nearly died when my husband told me the story that night. I wasn’t certain if he was warning me he’d eventually learn of my stupid, silly mistake. For weeks afterward, I was afraid Drake would appear and demand money from me, but he never did.”