Page 20 of Not His Usual Style (Diamonds of London #10)

Mountjoy House

Berkley Square

Mayfair, London

The longcase clock in the second-floor corridor had just struck two when the butler came into the drawing room.

“Your Grace, there are two men from Bow Street in the downstairs parlor. They wish to speak with you regarding an incident that took place two nights ago during Lord Dawson’s rout.”

And so it begins.

Grey folded his newspaper and then set it aside.

“Thank you, Sanders. I’ll be down directly.

” Once the butler left to presumably inform the Runners, he sighed.

It had been bad enough talking with Sarah last night and having her flee from him in tears because she couldn’t understand why he was holding to tradition and his father’s last wishes, but ever since that first time he was with Victoria, guilt had haunted him at the fringes of his existence.

However, coupled with that, for the first time in his adult life, he’d been given a glimpse at freedom, and he was nearly mad to continue that feeling.

Except he wasn’t free to pursue any of it.

It didn’t matter that his fiancée was doing just that; he had a responsibility to his title, and he would see it through for his father’s sake.

Yet that didn’t alleviate the guilt or the need to be in Victoria’s company.

As if she were a flame and he a moth, he wanted to keep flying into that light even though it would destroy him.

Eventually, he made his way to the downstairs parlor, and as soon as he came into the room, the two men sprang to their feet.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m Greystone. What can I do for you?”

The first man, who was nearly as wide as he was tall, cleared his throat. Though he had a head full of thick black hair, the fact it was shiny and greasy from pomade immediately turned Grey’s stomach. “I am Mr. Adams and this is Inspector Cordelle. We’re from Bow Street.”

“So I surmised,” Grey said in a droll voice as he flicked his gaze to the inspector and quite dismissing Mr. Adams, who wouldn’t matter in this investigation.

Unlike his counterpart, Cordelle was tall, lean, with slightly swarthy skin, piercing blue eyes, and thinning brown-gray hair. “Welcome, Inspector. How can I help?”

“Good afternoon, Your Lordship.” The other man nodded. “We are here to ask you a few questions about the rout at Lord Dawson’s home a couple of nights ago.”

“Of course.” Grey gestured to the grouping of furniture. “Please, make yourselves comfortable, but I’m afraid I don’t know all that much.”

“That matters not. We are only trying to put together a timeline of events,” Mr. Adams said as he settled his bulk into one of the chairs. “What time did you arrive at the rout?”

Grey feared for the delicate legs of that piece of furniture as well as the brocade cushion. “I believe it was around nine o’clock that night.”

“Yet the event began an hour before that,” Mr. Adams pressed.

Annoyance stabbed through his chest. “There is no set time when a couple should arrive at a society event. Besides, coming later avoids the crush of people at the entrance and the tangle of carriages on the street.” Who was this man to tell him how to live his life?

The inspector nodded. “Fair enough. While you were there, did you mingle with other guests?”

“As much as I could force myself,” he answered with truthfulness. “I wasn’t in the mood to socialize that evening.”

Mr. Adams frowned. “Were you aware that during the course of the evening, a valuable piece of jewelry went missing?”

“I would have no idea. I spent most of my time in the drawing room listening to pompous men brag about their lives.” Which wasn’t a full lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. It was rather fun to be evasive, and Mr. Adams was quite prickish. “What was it?”

“From what Lord Dawson has told us, it was a diamond necklace,” the inspector said as he cast a glance to Mr. Adams. “Quite valuable.”

“I see.” Grey didn’t much care, since he’d been the one to carry the item out of the house. He rested an ankle on a knee from where he sat in a chair that matched the one Mr. Adams rested in. “I could have sworn I heard someone say it was a tiara that went missing.”

Mr. Adams shook his wide head. “No, it was a necklace. Did you see it?”

“I did not. Did it have rubies in it or some such?” Damn, he didn’t know he could lie so easily.

“It does not,” the inspector said. “Just diamonds, mostly in oval shapes, set in silver.”

“Ah.” Grey nodded. “I’ll wager it was expensive which is why Dawson is twitterpated about losing it?”

“Quite,” the other man confirmed.

“Where was it taken from?”

“A decorative box in the study.”

Grey frowned. “If it was so valuable, why was it not locked away in a safe?”

“I would have no idea, Your Lordship,” the inspector said with a shrug. “But the fact remains the necklace is missing. And someone from the rout stole it.”

Mr. Adams took up the narrative. “We were told that you’d left the drawing room at some point. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is. I was bored and didn’t wish to drink the watered-down punch, and since I wanted quiet over the din in the drawing room, I sought solace in the library.”

The inspector nodded. “And that was where you met Miss Amherst, Baron Irvington’s daughter?”

“It was.” He nodded and tried not to show his alarm at bringing her into the conversation. “She was, uh, feeling poorly and had laid down on one of the sofas in the dimly lit room. Immediately, I returned to the drawing room to inform her father of the situation.”

From the way Mr. Adams smirked, it was clear he didn’t believe the story. “Did you speak with Miss Amherst while in the library?”

“Yes, of course. I asked after her health.” The health they’d fabricated after coming in from the garden where he’d first kissed her. “And when I discovered her name, I left to find her father.”

“Did she talk about the missing piece of jewelry?”

“Of course not. Why would she? She was in and out of a faint.” This line of questioning needed to end, not only for Victoria’s safety and reputation, but also because it was rapidly stirring Grey’s anger. “Do you think she’s a suspect?”

“It is a distinct possibility.”

“On what grounds?”

Mr. Adams shrugged. “She is a jeweler’s daughter. Her father likes the gaming tables. His pockets are nearly to let. Selling such a piece would go a long way into keeping their lifestyle intact.”

What an arse. Needing to distract them from Victoria’s trail, Grey shot to his feet. “As I said before, I’m not certain I can help you with this issue, but I hope you chaps find the necklace. Where did Dawson acquire it, by the way?”

The inspector cleared his throat as he stood. “That is a bit unsure, but I don’t believe he bought it through legal means.”

“Ah.” Which was what he and Victoria had surmised. “Well, we can’t have that sort of thing out on the street, for it would cause in-fighting among thievery groups.” As he spoke, he led them both to the door. “My butler will see you out of the house. Thank you for calling.”

Mr. Adams frowned, and the gesture didn’t help his looks. “But we aren’t finished with our questioning, Your Lordship.”

This man grated across his nerves. “I can assure you that we are. I’m not involved in this theft, and I would appreciate it if you would keep my name out of it. I’m sure you understand.” God, it was also fun pulling rank on these two!

The inspector’s face paled a trifle. “Of course, Your Lordship, but we need to ask one last thing.”

“What is that?”

“Do you know the whereabouts of Miss Amherst? She is on our list to interview today.”

“I do not.” His frown deepened. “Why would you think I did?”

“Well, you drove her home from the rout, did you not?” One of his eyebrows rose in challenge.

“I did, and since you are determined to pry, I called on her the next day to inquire about her health, but that doesn’t mean there is anything between us.” And these two buffoons didn’t need to know anything else. “Do you not know where she is?”

Mr. Adams huffed. “We do not. She’s managed to elude us.”

“Or perhaps she is merely living her life, unconcerned because she is innocent.” He narrowed his gaze. Quite frankly, he hoped she stayed hidden.

“There is that, of course,” the inspector said with a nod. “If you do see her again, please contact us.” He handed Grey a calling card. “A thief is a thief, regardless of their standing in society or the reasons therein.”

“Of course. Enjoy the remainder of your day, gentlemen.” Grey crushed the card in his fist as soon as the Bow Street men left the room.

Damn it all to hell!

Back in the drawing room, he checked out the window to make sure they went back into a hired hack, and as soon as they were well away, he strode to a small secretary in one corner of the room, where he penned a quick missive, sealed it in an envelope, then impressed upon a footman the urgency of delivering it to the baron’s home and to put into Miss Amherst’s hand posthaste.

I have to warn her.

Hyde Park

Grey removed the watch from his waistcoat pocket—again—to check the time—again. Where was she? He’d asked her to meet him here at four o’clock, near the bench at the Serpentine where they’d talked before.

Had she already been collected by Bow Street?

When he returned the watch to his pocket, a young man passed him on the way to the bank of the river.

“Pardon me, Your Lordship.”

He nodded and didn’t think much about it, but the way the other man referred to his title—and how would he know?

—put him in mind of Victoria, and without regard to how it might look to bystanders, Grey followed the shorter man in the slouch-style cap and scuffed boots that seemed to be a size or two too large.

“Victoria?”

The young man turned his head, and as soon as their gazes met, and he fell into those blue-gray depths, he realized it was her but in disguise. “Hullo, Greystone.”