He fought the urge to laugh at her. That would settle nothing. He’d been in mummies’ tombs and pirates’ caves, all of which came with warnings of curses, and he’d come out unscathed. No, he did not believe in curses. But clearly Miss Worthington did. As did the men of Solomon’s. They were all a bunch of superstitious fools.
“And what does all of this have to do with your house?”
“I have books on the matter, and journal articles. Ones I haven’t even read because, as I mentioned, I thought this particular hypothesis imprudent.” Esme took a cleansing breath. “Perhaps I should contact my scholar friends, see what they make of the situation.” Then she shook her head as if arguing with herself. “No, that will never do; no reason to alert them to my foolishness.”
His head was beginning to fog from trying to follow her circuitous logic. “Can we start at the beginning? Tell me about the theory of the bracelets,” he said.
“Well, I can tell you all I know, but I admit it isn’t much.”
“Tell me what you can.”
She nodded. “There are those who believe that when the gods made the box and sent it with Pandora they cursed it, thus cursing her and any who opened it. Inside the box, they put disease, greed, hope and lust.” Legend says that when Pandora opened the box she released all of the curses. Then she panicked and slammed the lid down, sealing hope inside. It was a cruel jest at the hands of the gods.”
Mr. Nichols had mentioned believing the curses were contained in material items. “You mentioned something about an inscription,” he said.
She held her hand out to him. “Here,” she said, pointing to the tiny engraved text.
“What language is this?”
“Some derivation of ancient Greek. I admit, it’s not my best language; I am much better with Latin. But I know enough to know that’s ‘lust.’ ” She tilted her head. “I don’t suppose you know Greek?”
“I can speak a few words, but that is all.” He looked back down at the band. “So each bracelet represents one of those elements? Theoretically speaking,” he said.
“Yes, I believe so.”
He nodded. “Which means there’s at least one remaining in the box.”
Esme opened her mouth, then frowned. “One more band?”
“The men who kidnapped you opened the box, and they both received similar bracelets for their trouble.”
She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, this is positively dreadful.” Her voice was muffled. “I’m quite certain the bracelets that have been unleashed will wreak havoc on the wearers.”
He looked from the bracelet to the woman wearing it. Wreak havoc on the wearers, indeed. Esme seemed to have a knack for wreaking havoc, with or without a bracelet.
Fielding swore, which garnered a look from his carriage companion. He’d wanted to deliver Esme Worthington back to her aunt, hand this bloody box over to Solomon’s, then collect his fee and be done with it. Now he could do none of those things. The men who hired him had warned him about the evils within the box, and while Fielding certainly didn’t believe any of that nonsense, chances were they meant those bracelets. Which meant they belonged inside the box, and until they were all returned, his job wasn’t complete.
He might not be the most honest man in London, but he’d never cheated anyone who’d paid him.
“Then I suppose there’s only one thing for us to do,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“We have to go after the bracelets.”
“What do you mean, we have to go after the bracelets?” Esme asked, certain she’d misunderstood him. “Aren’t we currently running from the men who wear two of them?”
He inclined his head. “We are. But without all the bands in the box, I cannot complete the job I’ve been hired to do. Which means until we remove that bracelet from your wrist, you’re my responsibility.”
“So honorable,” she said, her eyes skimming his strong form. His broad shoulders and strong, shapely thighs were evident in his new clothes, and she wondered why he didn’t dress in such tailored finery more often. Oh, no, it was happening. The curse was taking effect. She brought her hand to her throat. “I must be truthful, Mr. Grey.” His eyes were a warm brown when she settled on them. “I find myself utterly drawn to you. The fine chisel of your jaw line and the intensity in your gaze. You are quite the specimen.” Esme sat taller in her seat. “So I do ask that you be a gentleman lest we end up in an unfortunate position.”
His brows arched. “I am a gentleman by title and birth, Miss Worthington, but I’ve never been that good at behaving as one. You’d best not trust your virtue with me.”
She was unable to turn away from his molten gaze.
Had that been a promise or a threat?
“Instead of tallying my merits,” he said, “perhaps you should focus on something more pressing.” A seductive smile slid into place. “Unless you have a better use of our time. We still have more than four hours to go before we arrive in London.”