Page 67 of In Want of a Suspect
“Please pardon my insolence, but you see... we’ve had quite the rash of stolen jewelry showing up in the oddest of places,” he said. “Now, I don’t believe that this necklace is stolen at all! But given the circumstances, I feel duty bound to write to Mr. Hughes and tell him of your visit.”
“Well, I never!” Lizzie wanted to refuse, but if she did so, she suspected that the Runners would definitely be called. She reached into her reticule and extracted a card, thankful that she hadn’t given a false name. She slapped it down on the counter and stared the clerk down as his blue eyes dropped to the counter and took in her name.
“MissElizabethBennet? Why not E.B.?”
“I go by Lizzie,” she told him with a sniff.
She hoped—no, expected—for him to back off after that. Instead, he smiled wanly. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. I expect you’ll want the clasp repaired?”
“I—” Lizzie had been about to tell him no, because she wanted to get back to the Dashwoods and Darcy and tell them that Richard Hughes had given Leticia Cavendish a necklace with a romantic inscription in it. But if she were truly an embarrassed fiancée, she’d want the chain repaired.
“I’m not sure I have the time today,” she said lamely. “I have an appointment.”
“It should take no more than fifteen minutes, miss,” the clerk assured her. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea?”
Lizzie declined but resigned herself to waiting. She hated seeing the clerk whisk the necklace behind a door to the workshop.
After only several minutes, the clerk reemerged from the back room, wearing a solicitous expression that put Lizzie immediately on edge. “Miss Bennet,” he said, an apology in his voice.“I’m terribly sorry to tell you this, but... your fiancé commissioned this necklace nearly a year ago.”
“Oh?” Lizzie raised her eyebrows at the news, but she mentally filed away the knowledge. How long had Mr. Hughes been engaged to Josette? Had he been betraying her their entire engagement? “Well, that is surprising! I had no idea his affection went back that far.”
“Yes, and during that time, I’m afraid... well, this is rather indelicate. Please forgive me for bringing it up, but you see, he’sneglected to pay his bill.”
Lizzie had no trouble looking shocked, which was exactly what the fiancée of a supposedly rich man would be, should a clerk steep so low as to speak of money with her. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“I mean, Miss Bennet, that Mr. Hughes still owes us a significant amount of money for this necklace.”
That was when she realized he didn’t have the necklace in hand. Panic shot through her. Sheneededthat necklace back. It was her only evidence tying Leticia and Richard Hughes together. It pained her to think about what she had to do next, for it wasn’t this clerk’s fault that his shop and its owners were out the money that Hughes owed.
“I don’t see how that ismyproblem, and it is highly inappropriate that you should bring it up with me!”
“I am sorry, Miss Bennet. But nonetheless, I’m afraid that until Mr. Hughes has paid his outstanding bill—”
“Absolutely not! I demand you bring me my property this instant!”
She let her voice rise in volume—not quite yelling, but certainly louder than the clerk would wish, given that the shop contained more than a few customers. He looked around nervously but held his ground. “I cannot do that. I understand you are upset, but the best thing you can do is tell your fiancé—”
“Do I look like a common messenger?” Lizzie demanded. Inside, she was cringing at the haughty tone she’d adopted. She leaned toward the man and whispered, “If you do not return my necklace, I will cause a scene and your shop will be in all the society papers as the one who held an innocent young lady’s property ransom!”
Lizzie stared him down and narrowed her eyes. Let him try to outlast her.
Finally, he looked away. “Very well, miss,” he said shortly.
He disappeared into the back, and Lizzie tried to get her breathing under control. If that wretched Mr. Hughes had never paid his bill, then she had to wonder whether he was as successful as he would have his true fiancée believe.
What else was he hiding?
The clerk returned after a minute, all false smiles. “Here you are, Miss Bennet. I’m afraid we won’t be able to repair that clasp after all. But please do feel free to come back at a later date.”
“I shall,” she said, smiling. She felt a wave of relief wash over her when the necklace was back in her possession. Mimickingthe clerk, she pressed the pad of her forefinger into the filigree on the side of the necklace and felt the satisfying give of a hidden latch. The locket revealed its message inside. She snapped it shut and tucked it into her pocket. “Good day, sir. You’ve been most helpful.”
As she left the shop, her mind spun with what this new connection meant. Hughes and Leticia? Were they working together? But what about Josette?
Lizzie walked away quickly, almost afraid that the clerk would come running after her. But no one from the jeweler came out, and she turned down a side street, feeling the need to get away as quickly as possible. She’d gone three blocks when a pang in her stomach reminded her it was far past luncheon, which she’d missed. It was no use puzzling these things out on an empty stomach. She found a vendor selling buns and approached.
“One, please,” she said, and opened her reticule. But when she looked down, she caught a flash of movement to her right. “Actually, make it two.”
She accepted the buns and wound her way to the edge of the market until she found a spot between two stout barrels and a donkey hitched to a small cart. She bit into one of the buns, and waited until Henry appeared beside her, almost sheepishly.