Page 14 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
“Perhaps the small size made it appealing to the thief? Easy to hide in their clothes,” Ellie suggested. “Maybe they plan to remove all the jewels from the cover and sell them?”
“Perhaps,” Harry said, but he still sounded skeptical. “Certainly, something so rare would be difficult to sell on the black market, because it’s so recognizable.”
“It could have been stolen to order, for some avid rare-book collector who wants it in their own collection,” Ellie countered. “How did it come to be in your possession, Mr. Bullock?”
“I looked back at my purchase notes this morning to check that very thing,” Bullock said, “and it turns out it once also belonged to Napoleon Bonaparte himself. I bought it from a military man, who said he’d got it in Russia. His regiment captured the emperor’s personal baggage train when he retreated in such haste from Moscow, and the book was found inside.”
“Ah,” Harry murmured. “Now we could be getting somewhere. What else did the soldier say, about it, Mr. Bullock? Can you recall?”
Bullock’s bushy brows knitted as he considered thequestion, then he gave a laughing snort. “Ha! He actually said the damn thing was lucky! Fat lot of liesthatturned out to be.”
“Lucky in what way?”
“He said the book was Bonaparte’s lucky charm, that he never went anywhere without it. And you know, perhaps it was true, because everything started to go wrong for Old Boney almost as soon as it left his possession, didn’t it? His attempt to conquer Russia was a disaster, and he ended up losing everything to Wellington at Waterloo.”
Bullock shrugged. “Don’t see what that has to do with it being stolen, though. My guess is it was just someone who saw something shiny and expensive-looking and took it.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He slid his fingers into the breast pocket of his coat and withdrew a silver quizzing glass, then raised it to his eye and leaned in, toward Bullock’s cravat.
“Speaking of shiny and expensive, that is a very fine tiepin, sir.”
Bullock puffed out his chest at the compliment. “Why, thank you. The diamond belonged to Napoleon too. A stash of ’em were hidden in a tea caddy in his carriage when it was seized at Waterloo. The carriage itself is on display right now in the other room, along with all manner of other items, but I bought this diamond from Mr. Mawe, the diamond merchant in the Strand. He got it from a Prussian, Baron Von Keller. I had him fashion this pin for me.”
“A lovely piece,” Harry murmured, and as he tucked his quizzing glass away, Ellie shot him a sideways glare that clearly saidDon’t you even think about stealing it.
His dimpled smile was hardly reassuring.
Ellie turned back to Bullock. “Oh, that reminds me. I have your pocket watch, sir.”
“You do? How? I thought some devil had pickpocketed me at Lady Chessington’s last night.”
She reached back into her reticule and handed it to him. He turned it over, opening it to make sure it was, indeed, his.
“You dropped it as you walked away from me last night, but by the time I’d picked it up, I’d lost you in the crowd.” She sent him a sheepish look and gestured at the spectacles she still wore. “I’m afraid I’m as blind as a bat without these, but I don’t like wearing them in public. They make me look too much of a bluestocking.”
Bullock accepted this shameful fabrication with genial condescension, as if foolish female vanity was entirely expected of her.
“Thank you, Miss Law. You are a credit to your employer.” He sent a jovial smile to Harry. “Not that I needed proof that an employee of King and Company would be anything other than trustworthy.”
Ellie almost rolled her eyes at the irony and managed a sweet smile. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Bullock.” She turned to Harry. “Shall we go, sir?”
Harry offered his arm. “Indeed.”
With one last glance to make sure Bullock’s diamond tiepin was still there—it was—she allowed Harry to lead her from the room.
Chapter Eight
As soon as they were out of sight of Bullock, Ellie removed her hand from Harry’s distractingly muscular forearm and turned to him.
“All right, tell me your thoughts.”
“About life, love, and the universe in general?” he teased. “Very well. All in all, I’m in favor of—”
“About thecase,” she said testily. “Why do you think it was a targeted attack?”
He turned and pretended to admire a large stuffed ostrich, so their backs were to the room. “I think that particular book was stolen because it was rumored to be lucky.”
“That’s ridiculous.”