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A s a precaution, since neither Constance nor Solomon knew anything about the Lloyd family—none of the gentlemen frequented Constance’s establishment nor shared business interests or charity board membership with Solomon—they first called upon Lady Grizelda Tizsa.

Griz was a duke’s daughter who had disgraced herself by marrying a poor doctor who also happened to be a revolutionary refugee.

As a couple, they were highly curious by nature and inveterate solvers of puzzles.

It was amid one such puzzle involving an old acquaintance of Constance’s that she had first met them and been introduced rather dramatically to Solomon.

But that was not the only reason she liked them.

They treated everyone the same way, with courtesy, friendliness, and sincerity.

They were also funny, eccentric, and charming, hanging on to the fringes of many societies.

Griz was delighted to receive them. They found her sitting on the floor of her drawing room, which looked more like a study, playing with her gurgling, kicking baby.

An untidy young woman with golden-fair hair and spectacles, she seemed either unaware or uncaring of her own subtle beauty.

She jumped up as soon as the maid announced them, and, smiling in welcome, swiped the child up with her.

“Come in and sit down! I’m so pleased to see you again. How are you both?”

“Well,” Solomon replied, “Constance has just agreed to marry me.”

“Goodness,” Griz said with awe but very little surprise in her smile, while she continued to bounce the happy baby up and down on her knees. “You will make a positively dazzling couple.”

“Like you and Mr. Tizsa?” Constance said, unreasonably irritated.

“Lord, no,” Griz said vaguely. “Congratulations. I know you’ll both be very happy together.”

“In among the challenges,” Constance said.

“But it’s the challenges that make it fun.” Griz might have sensed Constance’s discomfort, for she changed the subject. “Did you come about something in particular?”

To many, the engagement would have been something very particular. Solomon’s lips twitched with amusement, but he said, “We were wondering if you had ever come across a family called Lloyd? Here’s his card.”

Griz took it and adjusted her spectacles. “Lloyd… I don’t think so, not at that kind of address. But then, I never moved in Society a great deal. Azalea and Eric might know.”

They were her sister and her brother-in-law Lord Trench. Constance had once discreetly attended a charity ball at their home, but she balked at making an open morning call upon on Lady Azalea. Solomon, of course, had business dealings with Lord Trench.

“Come to think of it,” Griz added, “so might my brother Horrace, who should call this afternoon. Let’s have tea while we wait.”

Their conversation became more general while the maid brought tea and scones. The baby fell asleep in Grizelda’s arms and she took it upstairs to its cot.

“Would you like to have children?” Solomon asked idly.

Oh, dear God… “It’s not always up to us,” Constance managed, annoyed with herself for blushing.

Had she ever blushed before she met Solomon Grey?

What child would not be ashamed of a courtesan for a mother?

Thankfully, she knew more than most about preventing conception, but nothing was ever certain. “Do you?”

“Yes, one day…”

Fortunately, Griz re-entered the room with the guilty glee of many a parent on enjoying their hour of freedom, and before their tea was finished, the maid announced, “Lord Horrace, my lady.”

On the face of it, Lord Horrace Niven was nothing like his sister.

He was tall and distinguished and very precise in his dress and in his manners.

Griz introduced them quite casually, and his lordship bowed and shook hands with great affability.

His eyes, however, were cool, hard, and unreadable, as he accepted a cup of tea from Griz.

“Dragan is at the clinic,” Griz told him. “But he said just to leave the parcel here.”

“Then I will,” Lord Horrace replied.

“Also,” said Griz, dropping Lloyd’s card into his saucer, “are you acquainted with this fellow?”

“Barnabas Lloyd?” Lord Horrace said in surprise. “Yes, a little. Adventurous sort, always exploring unlikely places or finding treasure…”

“He found some on an island off the East African coast,” Solomon said. “It was stolen from his London home and he has asked our help to recover it. We are concerned that his family or close friends may be involved, so an unbiased view would be useful.”

Lord Horrace’s gaze was direct and perceptive. “I see.”

Griz said, “They are private inquiry agents, Horrace. A more professional version of Dragan and me. I can vouch for them.”

How much weight that endorsement carried with Lord Horrace was debatable, but he said, “I know nothing against any of them. Except all that adventuring has played ducks and drakes with the family fortune. He bought his own ship and finances his own expeditions. Not sure his findings ever justify it.”

“Interesting,” Constance said. “So the treasure he’s just brought back is rather vital to him.”

“Then I hope it was insured,” Lord Horrace said.

*

Barnabas Lloyd and his family lived in a large townhouse with a gracious, porticoed front door.

It appeared to be well maintained both outside and in.

Solomon and Constance were admitted by a smart, unsmiling footman, who showed them to a small reception room near the front door where, only moments later, they were joined by the master of the house.

“Let me take you to the strong room,” Lloyd said as soon as polite greetings were over.

Obediently, they followed him to the staircase and along the passage to a door on the right. It looked like every other door in the house—white-painted, paneled wood—but clearly appearances were deceptive.

Reluctantly, it seemed, Lloyd took a ring of keys from his pocket. There were four of them, the largest of them very complicated in shape.

A maid bustled past with a shawl in her hands, pausing only to curtsey, her eyes down, before vanishing through the double doors on the left of the passage. Probably the drawing room, Solomon guessed.

“This is odd,” Lloyd said ruefully. “I have kept the secrets of this room for years. It seems wrong now to be showing it to so many people—the police inspector yesterday, you today.”

“Our discretion is total,” Constance said mildly.

Solomon watched very carefully as Lloyd inserted the large key into the lock and turned it clockwise. A heavy metallic clunk was the only clue that this was anything other than an ordinary door.

“There is steel behind the wood of the door,” Solomon guessed.

“And lining the walls.” Lloyd turned the key again then removed it.

To the right of the door handle, he lifted a panel that had been previously invisible, and revealed another, smaller keyhole.

Into this Lloyd inserted another key, which he turned anticlockwise.

He then put the large key back into the first hole—and this time it seemed to slide further in—and turned it clockwise.

Lloyd removed it and dropped the key ring into his pocket before depressing the handle, which clearly offered more resistance than an ordinary one, and pushed the heavy door open.

It was more of a cupboard than a room. A few deed boxes sat on a shelf on one side.

But it was the wooden chest on the floor that drew the eye.

About three feet in length with a curved lid, it almost filled the space.

Although it had clearly been cleaned up to some degree, the wood was old and thick and dark from ingrained dirt.

Its lock hung open, an iron flap hanging down from one loose hinge.

Lloyd stepped inside the strong room, bent, and lifted the lid to show the chest was empty save for one shining gold coin. Just as he had said. Beside it was a heap of what look like old gardening tools, a broom head, a rusting shovel, a hammer, a few rocks, and odds and ends of wood and metal.

“What is that junk?” Constance asked.

“What I found in the chest yesterday morning with the single doubloon. Whoever stole my treasure clearly thought it was funny.”

“So, when exactly was the chest locked up in here?” Solomon asked, while Constance squeezed past him and crouched down to look at the chest, lifting the flap at the broken hinge, inspecting the old gold coin within. “Did the chest travel from the ship directly to this house with you?”

“Yes, it did, and I supervised its removal from under the carriage seat and up to the drawing room. I think it must have been about five o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the house.”

“Were you showing the treasure to your family in the drawing room?” Constance asked.

“Yes, I was rather proud of it,” Lloyd said, sighing.

“Did they know about it before your arrival?”

“Not until my wife and my sister came on board to greet us.”

“Us?” Solomon repeated.

“My son, Sydney, accompanied me on the voyage. Did I not say so previously?”

“No.”

“Well, he did. I thought it was time he saw the world.”

“So, you had not written to your wife to expect you?” Constance asked, straightening.

It brought her pleasantly close to Solomon, her scent arousing his senses, her wide skirts catching around his leg. He had to restrain the urge to put his arm around her.

“She knew of the ship’s approach,” Lloyd said, “and I sent a messenger as soon as we docked. Of course, we had to wait for customs inspections and so on.”

“Did your wife and sister see the treasure when they came on board?”

“No, the chest was already tied up on deck and ready to go.”

Solomon nodded. “How long did it spend in the drawing room with you?”

“Oh, an hour or so.” A smile flickered on Lloyd’s lips. “After the long voyage, it was good to be home, surrounded by my family, teasing them…”

“Who was in the drawing with you?” Constance asked. “All your family?”

“Yes.”

“And servants?” she asked.