“We’ve never had a conversation that didn’t involve at least half a dozen other people, and you know it. You were often one of them.”
She said it breezily, as though she’d asked a gentleman to walk across a ballroom and fetch her a glass of lemonade. He admired she’d mastered the art of detachment without sounding frigid.
Ian leaned forward and braced his arms over his knees. “Tell me what you’ve heard.”
While he was only a few inches closer to her than before, the incremental invasion of her space made her lean as far back as the plush leather seat would allow. It stoked his confidence.
“It was part of a pirate’s treasure,” she ventured.
“Possibly.” He’d spread that rumor himself, to raise the perceived value of the gems. “Couldn’t say if it’s true or not.”
“Then the bit about the curse is also factitious.”
“Probably.”
“Did your father stake half of his business so he could give it to your mother as a wedding gift?”
A creative interpretation of the truth. His mother had possessed the necklace years before his father returned to Italy and discovered that he’d fathered a child with his mother. “That is a great exaggeration of what happened.”
“The one I’m most curious about is that the necklace can never be bought or sold, it must be won.”
When he didn’t reply, her lips curved. “I didn’t realize your father was such a talented card sharp.”
Another false assumption. His father had possessed little talent for cards. But his mother’s prowess had bordered on genius.
Jared was the heir to everything their father had built, but the emeralds were Ian’s legacy. His father had won them in a competition so furtive andtreacherous, the few who knew about it rarely dared to breathe its name. No one in London understood the danger of Ian’s inheritance. And Diana couldn’t comprehend what he was prepared to do to possess it.
“Is the other thing true?” she asked.
The forced lightness in her tone made him immediately suspicious. “Are we still talking about the necklace?”
“India. You’re not really moving to Bombay.”
“Did you honestly think I’d stay after the wedding?”
Her breath caught in an audible rasp.
The sound made his chest burn. He was behaving spitefully, but he couldn’t help himself. He was desperate for some sign that his absence would affect her half as much as hers impacted him.
The carriage came to a halt, and Diana impatiently moved toward the door. She’d fled the house with no gloves, only a dark cloak and the shawl Miss Hunter had left for her in the coach. Both would do little to conceal her wedding costume.
Ian blocked her exit by gripping the door handle.
“You don’t have to act like a mastiff.” She sighed. “I know where we are.”
This did not alleviate his unease. “It would be wiser for you to remain in the carriage. They may not respond candidly to questions with you there.”
She gave a low laugh and shoved aside his arm.
“Wait.”
He clasped her shoulders with enough force to stop her momentum.
The scorching glare she threw him would have shredded another man’s dignity, but Ian couldn’t let her out onto the streets of Soho so exposed. He pulled the dark cloak roughly over her shoulders and fastened the clasp. Her low grumble made him apply more caution as he wound the lace shawl around her throat until it obscured the necklace.
When he tied it closed, his gloves brushed her neck.
She trembled faintly, before she caught herself.