Page 11 of The House Saphir
Turning her back on him, she stomped on the hidden switch again. As soon as the flames had died down, she felt around the side of the hearth and wriggled out the loose stone. Brushing the dirt from her hand, she pulled out a small wooden box.
“What are you doing?”
Irritation growing, she did not bother to look back at Count Armand. “You can leave now. The tour is over.”
She opened the box’s lid, revealing a small cache of coins and a glittering sapphire ring.
“Is that…?” Armand started.
Mallory started scooping the coins into her purse.
“The ring in the cellar. That was a fake.”
She shot him an upticked eyebrow. “Wouldyoukeep a priceless artifact on full display in a glass jar?”
She reached for the ring, but another hand beat her to it.
“Hey!” She stood and wheeled around.
Armand was inspecting Triphine’s wedding ring, while the ghost stood by, watching the exchange and massaging her own fingerless hand. “Still as beautiful as the day my good-for-nothing husband gave it to me.”
Unlike the replica in the cellar, this ring was crafted of a white-gold band with a square-cut sapphire, heavy as a bad secret.
“Give it to me,” said Mallory, holding out her palm. “I need to get home to my sister, as evidently we’re going to be leaving first thing tomorrow—”
“Why?”
The words snagged on the end of her tongue. “Why?”
“Why will you be leaving tomorrow?”
“Were you not… Didn’t you hear them? My sister and I are on the verge of being carted off to prison, and I don’t know about the lifestyle of a count, but personally, I’m not suited to sharing a cold stone floor with an infestation of lice and vermin.”
“You will only be arrested if they were right,” he said, frustratingly calm. “If you’ve been conducting fake séances and…” He eyed the ring. “Selling fake jewelry.”
She opened her mouth. Hesitated. Then straightened her spine. “You’re right. I have nothing to worry about. Now give that back.”
“If this is the duchess’s ring, it rightfully belongs to me and my estate.”
Mallory gawped at him. “Your ancestor murdered her! Then chopped off her finger! That ring would have been lost to time if I hadn’t found it.”
“Shewas my ancestor as much as he was. And you found it inside the home that belongs to me.”
“Do I get a say in the matter?” asked Triphine. “It ismyring, after all.”
“No,” snapped Mallory. “You can’t wear it and you can’t sell it, so what do you care?”
Triphine huffed, but Armand’s expression became curious again. “You’re talking to the ghost again, aren’t you?”
“You know what, I don’t have time for this.” Mallory finished shoveling the coins into her purse, knowing that the moment he let his guard down, she’d be able to swipe the ring from him. An elbow to the throat or heel to the knee, and she could snatch the ring away and be gone before he knew what had happened.
“Miss Fontaine, I can see you’re upset about what happened with those investigators, but there’s something I need to discuss with—”
The house shook suddenly with a crash, the shattering of glass, a heavy, reverberating thud.
Mallory peered up the stairwell, into the shadows of the upper floor. Gooseflesh shot down her arms.
Triphine let out a wavering cry and ducked behind the curtains, hiding her ephemeral body in their dusty folds.
