Page 68 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
“Lord Holcroft.” The air felt tight, as if it was pressing in around her. And Allie realized she was holding her breath. “Yes, of course, Lord Holcroft.”
He looked like the man who’d come a few days before, and yet not exactly like that man. His voice sounded similar and yet not as familiar as the day Holcroft had first come to the shop. Not precisely like the man at Hawlston’s.
But perhaps her memory had faded over the passing days. Was he as tall as the man in the alley?
And his face—it was obscured by an elaborately fashioned mustache, his jaw blurred by a high fur collar on his coat, and his eyes shadowed by thick ruddy brows and gold-rimmed pince-nez that cut straight across his gaze.
The man chortled. “Late, am I not? You must forgive me for that, Miss Prince. The days get away from me, and I forever overestimate what I can accomplish in a week.”
He seemed so... amiable. There was a such a bon vivant sense about him. She couldn’t tell for sure, what with the fall of his long mustache, but he seemed to be smiling and had been almost since the moment he’d walked through the door.
“Is your man Gibson here?” He bent and held a gloved hand up to his pince-nez as if inspecting the space behind her.
Allie glanced up at their row of antique clocks. It was nearly the top of the hour and Mr. Gibson had been gone far too long for a mere fetching of coffee and crumpets.
“He is not here at the moment but should return soon, my lord.” Allie gestured toward the man. “If you have your gem, I can watch over it until he returns.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” The man patted his overcoat pocket. “It’s quite a precious little stone to me, and I’d like to make it clear to the man what I have in mind for its transformation.”
“I understand.” Allie studied the man, whohadn’t taken more than two steps into the shop. “Feel free to browse until his return, or tell me if there’s anything you’d like to see. I’m certain he won’t be long.”
The man cast an assessing gaze around the shop, and Allie tried to study him without being terribly obvious about it.
“He’s at Hawlston’s,” she told him, and scrutinized what she could see of his face for any reaction.
“Is he now?” Lord Holcroft approached the nearest display, all but blocking her view of him.
“Are you familiar with it? It’s the coffeehouse just next door.”
Holcroft lifted his head and cast a look over the rim of his glasses.
His were the darkest brown. “I’m a tea man through and through, my dear.”
Allie swallowed and found herself taking a step back, though the man was nearly the whole length of the shop from her.
He’d picked up the puzzle box she’d just set front and center in the shop this morning.
“Such clever little trinkets, aren’t they?” Laughter bubbled up out of him. “I do adore a puzzle.”
“That one is a particularly intricate design.”
“Indeed. Quite a fetching thing.” Holcroft shifted it in his hand, then tossed it in the air, and Allie rushed forward to take it from him. “But,” he said, stopping her midstride as he caught it and set it gently back on the shelf, “it’s not why I’ve come.”
He took a few steps toward the main counter, pulled a box from his pocket, and laid it atop the glass.
“There we are. The gem is inside, along with detailed instructions for how I’d like it cut. A gold setting, I think, and the chips along the side. It’s to be a gift for my daughter, you see.”
The more he talked, the less he sounded like the man she’d heard in the coffeehouse. Had she imagined the similarity the first time he’d come in?
He was tall and carried himself with the same air of confidence, though he lacked the menace.
“You’ll give it to him, will you not?”
“Of course, Lord Holcroft.”
“Very good. Then I should be on my way. So many appointments to attend to.” He spun away from her with the adroitness of a younger man, but then stopped, frozen in place, and turned back. “I almost forgot that you may have disposed of my card after my failure to turn up. Here’s another.”
A crimson gilded calling card appeared between his fingers as if by magic. She hadn’t seen him reach into his pocket, and yet the card was there.
