Page 24 of Romancing the Scot
“We found a pouch sewn into the waistband.”
Grace had worked with the seamstress. She had overseen the design herself, chosen the fabric and the trim, ordered the accessories. There was nothing about this dress that she didn’t know.
Curious, she watched Jo take a black velvet pouch out of the reticule. She’d never seen this before.
Jo proceeded to take a large jewel out of the velvet bag.
“This is what we found.”
Grace stared in disbelief at a huge diamond that Jo placed in her palm.
Understanding brought a stab of anguish, and she fought back tears. She’d never seen this stone, but she could guess what it was. And now she knew why her father was killed. This was what those men were searching for.
They’d been carrying a piece of Bonaparte’s treasure. This diamond must have been from the vast treasure Joseph Bonaparte took with him to America. Her father had to be delivering it from Joseph to his wife, Julie, in Brussels.
With Napoleon locked away on the island of St. Helena, treasure hunters were searching for Bonaparte’s gold and jewels, even as the emperor’s loyal followers were organizing themselves to free him once again. One of those factions was responsible for Daniel Ware’s murder. Why hadn’t her father told her what they were secretly carrying? It made no sense that he would hide this from her when he trusted her with so much more.
Grace thought how differently she could have planned their journey if she had known. They would have been traveling with more men to protect this treasure. She’d have been far more cautious. And this dress. She’d just suggested that it be discarded for rags; the diamond would have been lost forever.
Cold sweat broke out on her back. Perhaps that would have been best. Considering everything she’d lost, she wished the jewel was never discovered.
Realizing she was being watched, Grace let out a frustrated breath. “I’ve never seen this before. I can’t tell you how amazed I am.”
“No memory of it at all?”
She stared at it and shook her head. “If it was in the dress, then I suppose it must be mine. But I don’t recollect having it.”
Grace put the diamond back into Jo’s hand.
“Can you keep it safe for me?”
The tight lines around Jo’s mouth softened. Her gaze gentled and her face showed her astonishment at the trust Grace was placing in her.
“We can lock it in my brother’s iron chest. That’s where it’s been since we found it.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Jo slipped the diamond into the velvet pouch and dropped it back into her reticule.
Grace stood and went to the open window. The viscount and his horse had disappeared, and she looked out at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.
Everything had changed. Before the discovery of this diamond, she had simply been the daughter of a so-called traitor. Now she was a conspirator. In carrying this jewel, she had become an agent serving Napoleon and his family, and there was no way she could ever convince these people otherwise.
Chapter 8
Hugh stood back and wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He was making progress in the carriage barn, but the afternoon sun was crossing the sky too quickly.
“So what do you think?” he asked the gray striped cat watching him from its perch atop a barrel by the door.
Taking a deep breath, Hugh threw himself back into his task. Truscott had promised to make Darby available to him two afternoons each week, and tomorrow was to be their first day together. Hugh wanted everything in order so they could get to work.
For all his effort, the barn was only half emptied. What was left was still a chaotic tangle of barrels, rope, netting, and pulleys. Some things he wouldn’t remove. The unworkable parachute apparatus hanging on the back wall. The old silk envelope suspended from the rafters. The long crate containing the new envelope, varnished and ready to inflate. The new gondola.
Hugh dragged a coil of rope from a corner, raising a cloud of dust and sending a handful of mice scurrying in every direction. He glanced over disdainfully at the cat, who was licking its paws and ignoring the situation.
After rolling up his shirt sleeves a little higher, Hugh brushed the dust from his trousers and hauled out a roll of netting. He was always happiest when he was engaged in physical labor. Truscott and Simons never failed to look at him askance when he refused their offers to send him a lad from the stables or the kitchens to help move things around. And it was more than just the physical exertion. Hugh did his best thinking when he was active.
To be sure, he had a number of things on his mind. Cases and judgments. He was currently in the middle of deciding a case regarding the legitimacy of two daughters and their right to succeed to the estate of a peer. Then there was the upcoming issue involving a deaf mother charged with drowning her own infant in the Clyde. The case had been languishing in the lower courts for nearly half a year. Hugh would hear arguments in his courtroom on it in the autumn session.
