Rakes Vow

"Hmm." Mi

"I think-" Vane halted; hands on hips, he looked up at the ceiling. "No-I know she initially confused me with her father. Expected me to behave as he had." He swung about and stalked back. "She first expected me to have no interest in marriage, and when I proved to think otherwise, she assumed I had no real interest in family. She thought I was offering for purely superficial reasons-because she might suit, in effect."

"A Cynster not caring about family!" Mi

"No, she can't. Which is precisely my point." Vane stopped beside the bed. "Even after the family's attitudes were paraded before her, she still wouldn't change her mind. Which means there's something more-something deeper. I felt there was from the first. Some fundamental reason she'd set her mind against marriage." He met Mi

Mi

Vane nodded. Mi

"Meaning?"

"Constance loved Reggie. By that, I do not mean the usual affection found in many marriages, nor yet some warmer degree of affection. I mean love-selfless, complete and unswerving. For Constance, the world revolved about Reggie. Oh, she loved her children, but they were Reggie's and so within her purlieu. To give Reggie his due, he tried to cope, but, of course, from his point of view, the discovery that his wife loved him to distraction was more an embarrassment than a joy." Mi

Mi

His frown deepening, Vane resumed his pacing. "What, for want of a better word, lesson, would Patience have drawn from that?"

Mi

"You say it's this deep reason that's keeping her from accepting your offer-I presume you're therefore certain she would otherwise agree to your suit?"

Vane shot her a glance. "Perfectly certain."

"Humph!" Mi

"Obvious?" Vane bit the word off as he rounded on the bed. "Would you care to share your insight with me?"

"Well"-Mi

Vane didn't blink. "So?"

"So she watched her mother endure a life of misery through marrying a man she loved but who didn't love her, a man who cared nothing for her love."

Vane frowned and looked down. He continued to pace.

Eyes widening, Mi

Vane scowled. "There's no reason she can't trust me with her love. I wouldn't behave like her father."

"I know that and you know that. But how does Patience know that?"

Vane's scowl turned black. He paced more aggressively.

After a moment, Mi

Vane shot her a far from complimentary glance; Mi

Vane glowered-mutinously.

Mi

He honestly didn't know.

While he struggled with the answer to Mi

"Well!" Lucifer looked impressed. He glanced at the mantelpiece clock. "To what do we owe this unlooked-for-nothing less than startling-visit?" He waggled his brows. "News of an impending fixture?"

"Contain your transports." With an acid glance, Vane dropped into a chair and reached for the coffeepot. "The answer to your question is Mi

Like shedding a skin, Lucifer dropped his inanity. "Mi

"There were." Vane met his arrested gaze. "They're all gone."

Lucifer blinked. "Gone-as in stolen?"

"So we believe."

"When? And how?"

Briefly, Vane explained. Lucifer listened intently. Each member of the Bar Cynster had some special area of interest; Lucifer's specialty was gems and jewelry. "I came to ask," Vane concluded, "if you could sound out the cog-nescenti. If the pearls have slipped through our net and been passed on, I assume they'll pass through London?"

Lucifer nodded. "I'd say so. Any fence worth his salt would try to interest the denizens of Hatton Garden."

"All of whom you know."

Lucifer smiled; the gesture was not humorous. "As you say. Leave it with me. I'll report back as soon as I hear anything to the point."

Vane drained his coffee mug, then pushed back his chair. "Let me know the instant you hear."

An hour later, Vane was back in Aldford Street. Collecting a still sleepy Patience, he installed her in his curricle and made straight for the park.

"Any developments?" he asked as he headed his greys down one of the quieter avenues.

Yawning, Patience shook her head. "The only change, if change it be, is that Alice has turned even more prudishly odd." She glanced at Vane. "Alice declined Honoria's invitation. When Mi

Vane's lips twitched. "Strange to tell, she isn't the first to have labeled us that."

Patience gri

"Praying for deliverance from devils, no doubt. Did Whitticombe attend the ball?"

"Indeed, yes. Whitticombe's not affected by any puritanical streak. While not jovial, he was at least willing to be entertained. According to Gerrard, Whitticombe spent most of his time chatting with various senior Cynsters. Gerrard thought he was sounding out possible patrons, although for what project remained unclear. Of course, Gerrard's not the most unbiased observer, not when it comes to Whitticombe."

"I wouldn't sell young Gerrard short. His artist's eye is remarkably keen." Vane slanted a glance at Patience, "And he still has the ears of a child."