An Unexpected Countess. Laurie Benson
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His puffy face was scrunched up as he directed his gaze away from his cards and over to Hart. ‘Do not look smug.’
‘I hadn’t realised I was.’
‘You always do. You have not won this hand yet.’
‘You’re quickly running out of money to bet. I might win by forfeit.’
‘Unlikely.’ Prinny turned to his cards again.
Hart took a sip of brandy and checked his watch. It was close to four in the morning, but it felt much later. He would bow out after this hand and get some much-needed rest. ‘I don’t think the cards will change however long you stare at them.’
‘Don’t rush me, boy.’
Granted Hart was young enough to be the man’s son, however at thirty-two, he was far from a boy. ‘Very well, if I nod off, someone wake me when it’s my turn.’
Prinny finally selected his card and placed it on the table. Hart won the hand and the remainder of his friend’s money. Now he could escape to his bed and sleep for days.
‘One more round, Hart.’
Dammit! How was it possible he was not tired of losing? ‘You have nothing left to bet.’
Prinny turned towards his three companions behind him, ready to plead his case, when they quickly walked away. ‘Useless, the lot of you are useless,’ he called after them.
‘You see,’ Hart said through a yawn. ‘We cannot continue.’
‘One last round. How about we wager for a favour?’
It was always wise to store as many favours as one could. You never knew when you might need them. Considering the luck Prinny was having tonight, Hart was certain he would win. ‘Very well, but this is the last one.’
They went back and forth till finally it was down to one hand. Prinny placed his card down, a victorious smile on his lips. ‘I win.’
Hart had to rub his eyes twice to make certain he was truly awake. Dammit! Now he owed Prinny a favour. The Prince Regent guided him by the elbow to a quiet corner of the room. ‘I mean to collect, you know.’
‘I had no doubt. Something tells me you had a favour in mind all along.’
‘I might have.’
‘You could have simply asked.’
‘True, but now you’re bound by a debt to do this for me.’
‘And there is no one else you could have asked?’
‘No one that I trust to keep this quiet. You cannot tell a soul. Not even Winter.’ If he was not to tell the man responsible for overseeing Prinny’s secret guard, then Hart was truly interested.
‘And you cannot tell Lyonsdale either. I know how close you are.’
‘Very well, you have my word. I shall not tell a soul.’
Prinny lowered himself into a chair and eyed the seat next to him, indicating Hart should sit. Unfortunately, there was a good chance that once he sat down, Hart would not get up until sunrise.
‘Rumours have surfaced that indicate some of the missing French crown jewels are hidden here in London.’
Hart shifted closer to Prinny. ‘I haven’t heard this.’ He prided himself on knowing important details before they became public knowledge and shook off his annoyance.
‘Louis sent word to me through his ambassador. He asked for my help in locating them for France. He wants them back. There is specific mention of the Sancy, a pale yellow diamond that weighs approximately fifty-five carats. It once was part of the Mirror of Great Britain until James sold the stone to Cardinal Mazarin when he needed funds.’
‘What has this to do with me?’
‘I want you to find it.’
‘Why? This seems like a task for the Home Office.’
‘Castlereigh and I have met with them. We were reassured they would locate the jewels.’
‘I don’t understand. If they’re locating them, why would you want to involve me? I do not work with them.’
‘No, but you do work for Winter and I know how cunning you are. I want you to do this for me, without the knowledge of the Home Office.’
Either Hart was much too tired or Prinny was talking in circles, as he was known to do. ‘So you want me to find the French crown jewels that the Home Office is already trying to locate and return them to you?’
‘Just the Sancy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that diamond should be ours. Just imagine me reclaiming it. It’s too delicious a notion to pass up. I have no intention of returning it to France. I’ll never let Louis or Castlereigh know I possess it. France believes the thief, Guillot, broke apart the crown jewels. He hid clues to the Sancy’s whereabouts in a bracelet shortly after he arrived in England. This bracelet recently surfaced in Rundell & Bridge and was purchased by Everill for his wife. To find the Sancy, you need that bracelet.’
Hart tossed the lock of hair out of his eyes, getting a better look at the man sitting across from him. There was a chance Prinny had too much to drink.
‘Come now, Hart. Ever since you were a small boy, you were drawn to danger. You should be begging me to do this. Your uncle often said it would be a miracle if you reached the age of twenty with your penchant for reckless acts. It is a miracle you are still alive after tumbling down that cliff not long after your mother died.’
Hart shifted in his seat, not at all comfortable with recalling his mother or that day when he was a boy of seven—a boy who only wanted to stand in the last place his mother had stood before he lost her forever.
‘So you will find it for me?’ Prinny’s voice broke the painful memory and, for the first time, Hart was grateful to be interrupted by the man.
He rubbed his eyes. ‘Do you even know what this bracelet looks like? I imagine Lady Everill has quite a few.’
‘As a matter of fact I do know what it looks like,’ Prinny replied rather smugly. ‘I was told there are square gold links with paintings on porcelain. The links are also engraved in a Grecian style. The thief left a note for his accomplice that the bracelet would help him locate the Sancy. Find that bracelet and you find the key to where it is. You owe me this debt.’
Sarah stood at the closed door to the breakfast room of her home and tried to paste on a believable smile. It wasn’t working. She needed to disguise her frustration at failing to get Lady Everill’s bracelet last night before someone noticed her foul mood. There would be questions—and Sarah had no answers she cared to give.
On the other side of the door, her parents were blissfully unaware of how perilously close they were from being thrown back into a world of grief and depression, with Sarah as their only hope. She had lived through that anguish with them once. She prayed she could find the bracelet so she would not have to do it again.
She struggled again to smile. Closing her eyes, she recalled the thrill of racing her horse at full gallop along the shores of the Long Island Sound on her family’s estate. A small smile crossed her lips. It was the best she could do.
When she entered the room, she was met with the faint sound of forks clinking on plates as her mother read a letter and her father browsed his newspaper while they ate breakfast. If the silence continued, she could keep trying to think of another way to secure that bracelet.
As Sarah poured herself a cup of chocolate, her mother refolded the letter she was reading and smiled at her.
‘Good