Page 13 of When the Rogue Returns
Her temper flared at his blatant attempt to bait her. Did he think she would crumble into weeping and confess her real name just because he was tormenting her?
Of course he did. He’d always thought her easy to get over. “My late husband called meMausiwhen we were first married. I suppose he thought me so meek and helpless that I would endure any insult to keep his affection. But he soon learned I wasn’t a mouse afterall.”
His eyes burned into her. “Was your husband German? Because just as the English endearment ‘my lamb’ doesn’t really mean a bleating, four-legged creature,Mausias a German endearment doesn’t really mean ‘mouse.’” A haunted expression crossed his face. “It means something small and fragile and innocent. Precious, even. Perhaps that was how he meant it.”
The words made her ache for the way they had been, which was probably what he’d intended. “I doubt it, or he wouldn’t have—” She broke off, horrified that she’d nearly saidabandoned me.“My husband was Belgian, Mr. Cale. Or so I thought.” Her tone hardened. “I really didn’t know him very well. He didn’tletme know him very well.”
“My, my, Mrs. Franke,” Lady Lochlaw put in, “while this is a very intriguing conversation, it is hardly suitable.”
Isa pasted a smile to her face for the baroness. “I’m sorry. I forget that you’re a widow, too. No doubt talk of husbands pains you as much as it does me.”
It was clear from the woman’s arch smile that it wasn’t talk of husbands that pained her. It was the fact that Isa had diverted Victor’s attention fromher.
“So,” Lady Lochlaw said, “how is your little business doing, Mrs. Franke?”
Isa gritted her teeth. “It’s doing quite well, thank you. We’re about to unveil some new designs for our imitation work. You should come to the shop sometime, and I’ll show them to you before we offer them for sale.”
Lady Lochlaw looked horrified. “My dear, what need have I of jewelry made with imitation jewels? I can affordrealjewels.”
“We have those, too,” Isa said, undaunted, “but you might enjoy our imitation ones as well. They look so real that half the women in town are wearing them, and no one even knows. These are no Vauxhall glass, I assure you.”
“Is that what you do, Mrs. Franke, make paste jewelry to fool people?” Victor asked in that faintly accusatory tone that was beginning to get on her nerves.
She stared him down. “No. I make beautiful works of art for women who wish to dress well for dinner and the theater, but who would rather spend their funds on more important pursuits than adorning themselves.”
“So you actually sell your imitations?” He smiled thinly. “I would have thought the only people making imitation jewelry are those who do it for some criminal purpose.”
Rage boiled up in her. The blackguard had the audacity to hint at her involvement in the theft, afterhe’dtaken advantage of her skills? “Actually, I learned from my father, a respectable clockmaker. He liked to embellish his works with gems, but not everyone could afford clocks so elaborately decorated, so he sometimes resorted to imitation diamonds made of a higher-quality glass called strass. He always delineated which was which, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed with faint sarcasm.
She glared at him. “He taught me the rudiments of crafting them, but I soon learned there were ways to improve them. Which I did. And I, too, always delineate which is which in my shop.”
“So they’re clearly not intended for a criminal purpose,” he said with a joking air, though his eyes weren’t joking in the least.
“No,” she shot back. “That would be wrong, sir.”
“Certainly, no one here is accusing anyone of wrongdoing, are we, Mr. Cale?” her ladyship put in, clearly bewildered.
Isa feared she couldn’t contain her temper much longer. Setting down her empty cup, she rose. “I don’t wish to be rude, my lady, but if I am to attend the theater tonight, I must return home. My gown required some alterations, which my maid is working on, and she may need to make additional ones after I try it on. It’s not every day I go out with such fine companions.”
“I understand completely,” Lady Lochlaw said. “And I do look forward to our little expedition. Mr. Cale is joining us as well. We’ll make a merry party.”
“I’m sure we will,” she lied. If she could keep from throwing him off a balcony.
“How are you getting home?” Victor surprised her by asking.
“I’ll take a hackney.” Mr. Gordon had been kind enough to bring her here, but she didn’t want to impose upon him for the return trip since he had things to do.
“You can’t take a hackney around the city alone,” he said. “You must allow me to accompany you. I have my phaeton waiting right outside.”
That washisphaeton she’d seen? Lord, he really was living high. She was surprised he still had any stolen funds left.
Or perhaps he’d found a more lucrative way to add to his income—like insinuating himself into the life of a rich and lascivious widow like Lady Lochlaw.
Hope filled Isa. What if hehadn’tcome for her? What if this was just a chance meeting born of some other scheme?
Well, she would find out. And she’d start by letting him drive her around a bit. She didnotwant him to know where she lived—not with Amalie still home.
