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I screamed and swung my umbrella. In a lucky stroke, I stabbed my attacker in the leg. With a roar, he struck with his fist, knocking me over. My ears rang and my hands stung from hitting the rough, filthy paving stones. He kicked me in the corset. I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Where’s Drake?”
I doubled up, gasping.
He grabbed me by the hair. “Where’s Drake?”
I tried to scream, but only whimpered.
“Hey! You!”
The grip on my hair loosened and I slumped to the ground as footsteps pounded down the alley.
“Miss. Are you all right?”
Hands lifted me up to a standing position and I found myself facing two young clerks. My hair was falling around my ears and my hat was trampled in the damp dirt of the alley, which also coated my clothes. The two men picked up my hat and the now-wrinkled books and handed them to me.
“Thank you.” I burst into tears, ruining what little dignity was left to me.
When the clerks helped me to the flat, Emma and Phyllida thanked them profusely and Phyllida gave them the apple pastry that she had made for our dessert. Despite my protests, I was undressed and ordered into a tub of hot water.
It didn’t take long for me to recover. My corset was tough enough to withstand any thug’s boot and he’d only struck glancing blows. Getting dressed again was another issue. Phyllida didn’t want us to go to Lady Westover’s, since my attacker was still out there.
Emma slipped her knife out. “Either we’ll be fine, or he won’t be. Besides, I want to try on those jewels.”
Phyllida threw her hands in the air and went to dish up di
After a hasty di
The wind from the day before had died down and now fog muffled every street, alley, and path in London. While we heard occasional hoofbeats, no hansom cabs passed us, so we were forced to walk. We found our way to Lady Westover’s in the dark by moving from one familiar landmark to another, one lamppost to the next. All the while, the footsteps I heard trailing us sent icy fingers skittering down my spine.
Emma slipped her knife out and showed it to me, but I still felt threatened. When we found an omnibus stop, we caught the next one and rode part of the way. As much as I wanted to, I hadn’t caught a glimpse of Sumner, the man the Duke of Blackford had hired to guard me if I went out at night. After we left the omnibus near Lady Westover’s home, I heard the footsteps again. Although I wanted to believe I heard Sumner following us, I was relieved to climb the steps to Westover House.
The butler opened the door and let us in along with a wisp of fog. As he took our wraps, he said, “Her ladyship is in the parlor. You’re to go right up.”
Lady Westover sat across from the Duke of Blackford, open jewel cases spread out on a table between them. Emma walked forward, staring at the sparkling riches for her to examine. My own stare was focused on a dim corner of the room where Sumner stood guard.
My heart thudded into my stomach. Sumner was here guarding the duke and the jewels. His couldn’t have been the footsteps I’d heard behind us. I’d had no protection during or after my encounter with the ruffian. “If you’re in here . . . ,” I began and clenched my hands together as I shut my eyes.
The duke sprang from the sofa before I opened them. “You were followed. Good God, Georgia, what happened to you?”
I pointed to my bruised cheekbone. “This happened when I left the shop tonight. I heard footsteps coming here, but I didn’t see anyone. Too foggy.”
The duke nodded to Sumner, who left the room. “Could it have been someone headed in the same direction?”
I remembered my last trip to Sir Broderick’s. “How long has it been since Sumner stopped guarding us in the evening?”
The duke scowled. “I had him stop almost immediately. You never went out at night, so I decided there was no reason for concern.”
I felt a cold breath on my neck at the thought of someone out there following us. And when I was alone, someone had struck. It made me wish I carried a weighted walking stick like the duke’s or a knife like Emma’s. “This is the second time it’s happened. We were followed from here to Sir Broderick’s three days ago.”
The duke muttered a foul curse, looked around in embarrassment, and picked up a tiara. With a false note of heartiness in his voice, he said, “Now, ladies, time to start becoming accustomed to wearing jewels and tiaras.”
I caught the duke’s gaze and held it. Whoever had set those two ruffians on me after Lady Westover’s di
The duke shook his head slightly as he returned my gaze and then handed Lady Westover a tiara. While Lady Westover adjusted Emma’s tiara, the duke set mine on my head with the solemnity of an archbishop crowning a queen.
While he stood there admiring his jewelry, I said, “Why are you going to all this trouble to help us, Your Grace?”
“I want Drake to hand over the letters he’s stolen. Surely the Archivist Society doesn’t mind assistance.”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Start walking,” he commanded.
Emma took to her diamond and sapphire tiara immediately, her bearing becoming more regal by the moment. I, on the other hand, held my head stiffly while keeping my eyes focused upward as if I could see the diamond and ruby confection resting atop my red-tinged locks.
Finally, the duke stepped in front of the path I was walking across the parlor while dodging ferns and flowers and said, “Georgia, look at me.”
I did as he ordered and found myself staring into fathomless dark eyes. “I fear I can’t guard your jewels properly, Your Grace.”
“Don’t worry about the jewels. They’re insured. And I don’t want you guarding them; I want you wearing them. Proudly. Like a duchess.”
“More like a tethered goat, don’t you mean?”
“There will be at least one hundred and fifty ladies there, all dressed in their finest jewels. Why would a jewel thief choose you? And why in a crowded room? No, you don’t have to worry about jewel thieves. You need to keep a lookout for Nicholas Drake.”
“You know he’s still alive?”
His only indication of surprise was a slight rise in his eyebrows. “I didn’t know he died.”
Blast. I hadn’t been going to tell him or anyone else outside the Archivist Society that I’d talked to Drake or that we’d thought he was dead. Until I knew why a duke was going to all this trouble for the Archivist Society, I didn’t feel I could trust him. “We can’t be sure until we see him.”
“Hopefully, you will at the ball. I’ve set a plan in motion that Drake won’t be able to resist. You’ll be there as both sentinel and bait.” He raised his head and his voice. “Lady Westover, will the dresses be such that no man will be able to resist them?”
“I certainly hope so, Duke. We have such good material to work with.”