Page 22 of Not His Usual Style (Diamonds of London #10)

Amherst Jewelers

Nightingale Lane

Mayfair, London

Later that evening

The soft chime of a carriage-style clock in the tiny common room above her father’s jeweler’s shop announced the arrival of the six o’clock hour.

Tori had arrived an hour ago, where she’d changed her clothes and then had quickly visited the modiste Grey had mentioned.

While it had been slightly embarrassing to ask, the moment she dropped the earl’s name, the modiste and her seamstresses fell all over themselves to have her measurements taken, sort through rejected gowns from clients, and then find one that would suit her coloring and the event.

To be fair, though her head was still spinning from the visit, the gown they’d selected for her was the most gorgeous garment she had ever put on.

In a gold color that shimmered with her every movement and breath, it would be guaranteed to draw all eyes to her at that ball.

She didn’t care, for the only man’s attention she wanted on her tomorrow was Grey’s.

Theirs was an impossible relationship, improbable really, and in two days he would wed another woman, just as he’d always been meant to.

The chances were slim that she would ever see him again after that, for she still wasn’t one to willfully put herself into society, and he would be on his wedding trip.

The thought of that sent a cold ache through her heart, but though she should be happy for him, the only emotion she could summon was sorrow, for he was her ideal in every way…

but she had met him too late. And honestly, she needed to let him go, because he wasn’t hers, never was, regardless of the looming scandal between them.

A grunt from her father brought her out of her tortured thoughts.

She glanced at him from where she’d perched on a hardbacked wooden chair near his very cluttered desk that doubled as a worktable.

Tools of the trade littered the top, along with invoices and other paperwork belonging to his clients, slim boxes containing jewelry that needed either cleaned or repaired, a few books, glass bottles of cleaning solvent, and all manner of dirty teacups and saucers.

“Do you believe it did, in fact, belong to Marie Antoinette?” The sound of her whisper was overly loud in the quiet of the space. They’d shaded the windows as well as the doors in the shop and this room, and the doors were both locked in the event that Bow Street would come calling.

“It did.” He glanced at her with a jeweler’s loupe propped against one eye that magnified the settings and the interiors of the stones.

“I removed the central, dangling stone from the setting, and on the inside of the metal, there is the name of King Louis XVI with the date of May 16, 1770, which was his wedding date to Marie Antoinette.”

“That is incredible,” she breathed as she watched her father fit the teardrop diamond back into the silver setting. “To think that this necklace is almost fifty years old, and it’s right here as a piece of history.”

“It is.” Her father nodded. “Even one of these stones, if sold or pawned, would fetch at least a few thousand pounds, depending.”

As he worked, Tori’s heartbeat accelerated. “I should make plans to go to France.”

“Whyever for?”

“To obtain an audience with the King of France, Louis XVIII.” It felt so foreign to say that on her tongue.

The king was restored to the throne after Napoleon’s final defeat at Waterloo, and no doubt everyone in that country breathed a sigh of relief after that time in history was over.

Dear heavens, was it only four years ago?

Time both flew but remained stagnant at times.

“Think, Tori girl. Why would they take you seriously if you show up at the front gates of Versailles?” Slowly, he shook his head.

“Perhaps we should send out a letter first telling them of our findings and ask if they want the piece back. If they do not, they might have details on what we should do with it.” With a shrug, he removed the loupe from his eye.

“They might wish to send a contingent for it themselves, since it is quite an impressive bit of France’s history. ”

Of course what he’d said was quite logical.

She blew out a breath. “We shouldn’t wait, though.

It’s too dangerous. Bow Street is closing in.

What if they arrest you or me?” The scandal would be horrific for her father’s business.

To say nothing of damaging her own reputation.

As of yet, gossip hadn’t touched her from the theft or her becoming the Earl of Greystone’s lover, but it was probably only a matter of time, for servants talked.

“Ah, poppet, try not to fret about that.” Her father leaned back in his chair. The springs in the old, worn leather chair protested the movement. “When the Bow Street fellows come calling, we’ll have a story in place to spin them, and rest assured, I’ll keep them away from you the best that I can.”

“You and Greystone are so protective of me. It’s rather flattering.” And made her feel loved, almost cherished.

One of his bushy eyebrows rose as he donned his half-moon spectacles. “Have you seen the earl since the rout?”

How to answer that? “A couple of times. He was worried about my health and mindset after the rout, and he also wanted an update to the provenance of the necklace.” The longer her father rested his gaze on her, the more heat built in her cheeks.

“Is that the truth of it?” There was no judgment or censure in his expression, only curiosity and concern.

“No,” she managed to gasp out. With a frown, she transferred her gaze to her hands that were clasped in her lap.

“I, uh…” A sigh escaped her. “It is difficult to explain, I suppose.” And if she were honest with herself, she was frightened about what was budding between her and Grey, especially since nothing could ever come of it.

“You have known him for only a few days. Why is there such complication?”

Why indeed. Tears stung the backs of her eyelids, but she blinked until the urge to cry faded. “Because sometimes in life, you connect on such a deep level to someone else that it steals your breath and you can’t believe that you didn’t know of their presence in the world before.”

“Well, I have noticed something different about you since that rout, and since I know you don’t enjoy being out in society, I thought it might have to do with someone you met that night.” For long moments, he rested his gaze on her. “I suspect that person was the earl.”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Yet I thought I heard a rumor he’s due to be married in a couple of days.”

“He is. It’s true, and I’ve met his fiancée. She is a lovely woman.” Whether or not she was loyal to the earl, she couldn’t say for certain, but even if neither of them shared love for each other, that engagement still held and those vows they spoke would be sacred.

“Yet if what you say is true and there is indeed something soul-deep happening between you and Greystone, why are you running from it? Are you afraid you’ll be heartbroken again like you were when you lost your fiancé?”

“I think so, because I will truly lose the earl. There is no way around that.” And no matter what was between them would just…

end. “Greystone is not free. I should never have let him kiss me that first time, but it was when I’d first found the necklace and was trying to escape the house…

” She swallowed hard as she shook her head.

“Then things happened, we talked, he was the one who got me out of that house with the diamonds. It doesn’t matter, does it? ” She really needed his advice.

“Nonsense.” Her father huffed. “The earl is free until those vows are spoken.”

“Oh, Papa, hush. That isn’t how it works, and you know it.

” Tori briefly rolled her eyes to the ceiling while the guttering candle flame sent abstract shadows over the walls.

“I’m not the type of woman to steal another woman’s man.

” No matter that said woman had her own lover, according to Grey.

“Even if I wanted to,” she added, for how often did a person stumble upon someone as perfect for them as the earl was for her?

And she hardly knew him at all! But there was something in her soul that said he was who she’d been searching for over the years.

“Fair enough but I suspect you have been with him in an intimate way, and—”

“Stop, Papa.” She held up a hand to prevent further words. “I don’t want to hear it. The last thing we need is to anger two prominent ton families. Your work might suffer because of it.”

“My girl, have you learned nothing over the years since losing your fiancé?” When he shook his head, he gave her a mischievous grin.

“There are more important things in life… including the happiness of my daughter. I care not if I lose clients. It has been years since I’ve seen such animation in your eyes or seen you smile like you do when you talk about the earl. ”

Oh, dear.

“Is it that obvious?” The heat in her cheeks continued to rage.

“To me? Yes, and I’m happy for you. To others? Perhaps not, unless they know you or him well.” He stood up from his chair, came around the desk, and then when he stood beside her, he leaned down and bussed her cheek. “Don’t give up just yet. Miracles do happen.”

She snorted. “I think I’d need even more than that.” With nothing else to do, she struggled to her feet. “But thank you for the talk. I need time to think, especially since I’m to attend a ball tomorrow night…”

“To meet the earl?” One of her father’s eyebrows rose in question.

“Yes.” Would she burn to a pile of ash right here? “It will be the last time I see him, and after that, I will need to be strong and watch him walk out of my life.”

“Ah.” He rested a speculative gaze on her. “I shall see you for dinner. Do you wait for me to finish up here?”