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“Those are our only alternatives? A town or a city—there are too many places they could hide in either, and too much trouble for them to get into, don’t you think? A village or a farm seems a much wiser choice. And there are a plethora of both in just the surrounding five miles.”
“None of them may be the best place for the children, though. We can’t settle simply because it means we can stop by for tea on a whim.” Even if that idea was damned tempting.
“But we need to be thorough, because somewhere close by we might find the perfect place.” Her gaze lifted, her fingers jumping. “Dash it all, it’s Mary Hendersen’s barouche. And she’s with that horrible Prudence.”
Will chuckled. “Prudence wasn’t so much horrible as she was perfect and mild,” he returned, but guided Emmeline toward the jeweler’s shop. “Back here,” he said, nudging her into the narrow alley and following.
“I should apologize to her, I know,” Emmeline whispered, peering around his shoulder back toward the street. “But then she’ll suggest tea and cricket with our niece and nephew, and Rose and George are simply not ready for polite company. I will not have my ship sunk by Mary Hendersen.”
The barouche rolled past them up the street. “Wait here a moment, just to be certain they aren’t doubling back to purchase earbobs,” he murmured, leaning down to smell Emmeline’s hair as she pressed against him. Lavender. God, she was arousing.
Thank God they’d figured out what George was up to with his slanderous comments, even if he hadn’t quite satisfied himself with the purpose for it. He had twenty-eight days to figure it out, after which time they would be at the Duke of Welshire’s estate, head home, and then send the children off to… wherever he and Emmeline could find a place for them.
After that, he would have to spend at least a week in London catching himself up on any new business in the trade ministry. Emmeline would busy herself with planning one of their dinners for the local gentry and her correspondence with the spouses of whomever he needed to rally to whichever cause was next assigned him.
Separate lives again, coordinated and peaceable and efficient—and damned unsatisfying. It seemed the height of selfishness to complain about perfection, but there it was. He wanted… more. From her, from himself, for their lives.
“I think they’ve gone on,” she said, looking up at him from the circle of his arms.
Now he wanted to kiss her again. Evidently it had taken eight years for him to figure it out, but he was still in love with his wife. “More than likely,” he agreed, unmoving.
“What?” she asked, grinning.
“Just gazing at my wife,” he said, and took a reluctant step backward. He’d been on this road before, after all, and then she’d informed him that there was no reason for them to share a bed any longer. Preparing the children to meet the Duke of Welshire wasn’t the only thing it took both of them to manage. And he refused to be in love alone.
“Who should we try next?” Emmeline asked.
“This would be easier if you’d included Father John. He knows far more about the local families than we do.”
“I just… He might keep our confidences, but this is too important for ‘might.’ And he was very quick to mention orphanages and money after he told me all about the unfortunate demise of one of Lady Graham’s relations. I didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him, Will. Nor do I trust that his idea of a good family for the little ones would equal our—”
“Then I shall trust your judgment. We need to find someone we can trust, though, because we are…” Abruptly he realized he was speaking to the air, because Emmeline had stopped several feet behind him. He turned around. “What is it?”
Her gaze remained on the front window of the jeweler’s. “I—It can’t be.”
Frowning, he rejoined her. As usual, Mr. Rippen the jeweler had several items on display in the window. Today, a pretty glass diamond brooch, pearl earbobs with a matching pearl necklace, a jadestone bracelet, and an onyx cravat pin enticed shoppers to come inside and see more treasures. “Do you fancy something? Because I find myself very much in the mood to purchase you whatever you—”
“I misplaced my pearl earbobs, and then my matching necklace went missing day before yesterday,” she murmured. “You know, the one with the gold roses forming the hasp?”
Nothing specific came to mind, but he could clearly see the gold rose hasp on the necklace in the window. “Are you absolutely certain?” he muttered back.
“I always knew which way to put it on, because the left hasp has a bent petal. I knew the children were making off with items, but this is not a carved bird or a silver fork.”
“I’m at least as concerned over how they managed to sneak into Birdlip without us knowing,” Will stated. “And how they convinced Mr. Rippen that the pearls belonged to them.”
“If it was them.” Rolling her shoulders, she pulled open the jeweler’s door and walked inside.
Will followed her, already seeking the proper phrase to discourage George and Rose’s thievery without breaking their spirits. Did that make him a fool? A gullible idiot? Even deeper down he wondered if that made him a father, but that was a question that would never find itself in the light of day. It had more than likely been James—and if it had, that could be the moment they’d been waiting for.
“Mr. Rippen,” Emmeline was saying, her most appealing smile on full display. “Good morning.”
“Mrs. Pershing,” the diminutive jeweler exclaimed, rising from his work stool at the back of the shop. “An unexpected delight! How may I serve you? And you, Mr. Pershing. Yes, of course. Both of you, in my shop!”
“May I ask where you acquired the pearls in your window?” Emmeline asked, gesturing with one hand.
“They’re exquisite, aren’t they?” The shopkeeper sprang past them to lift the necklace and earbobs from their velvet display. “It was just the luckiest thing, really. A lad came in and said he’d found them in a clutter of luggage that had fallen into a stream. Very muddy, they were, but I could see the quality.”
“Before you bring them any closer,” Will said, “may I ask if the left-hand hasp has a bent petal?”