Page 7 of Stolen By the Rogue
Stephen raised an eyebrow and gave him a wary look. “Just because you are the Honorable George Hawkins doesn’t make you a gentleman, but yes keepThe Times. Are you going to look in theWantPlacessection for a respectable role?”
George ignored the smart quip and tucked the paper firmly under his arm. He had no time left for sitting idly and chatting. “You never know what you might find in the newspaper.”
And with that he downed a mouthful of the tea, set his cup on the table, and headed for the door. He had a plan, and that plan involved finding out all he could about the Ottoman Empire before making the acquaintance of Mister J. Scott, antiquities expert.
And then I intend to get my hands on that golden crown.
Chapter Two
Jane read the advertisement inThe Timesonce more and grinned. In a matter of days, she would be overseeing her first real exhibition of archeological artifacts. And it was in London.
Excitement bubbled in her stomach.
J. Scott. Esq. Curator and Antiquities expert.
The words were only a partial lie. She wasn’t an esquire, but she certainly knew more about the Ottoman treasures than any of the scholars attached to the British Museum. They had turned their noses up when she’d offered to present an exhibition of articles from Constantinople and Lebanon. She was still fuming over the condescending way in which they had dealt with her. One had even laughed as she picked up her papers and, red-faced, hurried from the offices of the museum.
“Günaydin, Miss Scott.”
She turned as the Ottoman ambassador stepped into the room. “Good morning, your excellency.”
He pointed at the newspaper. “I see our little notice made the front page. Hopefully we will get some people to come and visit the exhibition. Pottery and stone tablets aren’t particularly exciting, but who knows? We might manage to get a spot of interest in the crown.”
Jane’s gaze shifted to the large glass box that sat in the center of the room, and she softly smiled. Resting on a piece of red silk cloth sat the jewel of the exhibition, her pride and joy. “If the crowds at the Tower of London queuing to see the crown jewels are anything to go by, we know that the English love their royal splendor. Rest assured, your excellency—they will want to see Baldwin’s crown.”
I hope they do. Otherwise, the exhibition will be a failure, as will I.
If the various pieces of ancient pottery in the other display cases had been all she had to offer, the ambassador would likely have been right in having reservations. The crusader, Baldwin, had been invested as ruler of Constantinople early in the thirteenth century. His gold crown was a major drawcard.
It had cost an extra shilling to put the notice on the front page ofThe Times;a calculated risk, which Jane was confident would pay off. The sultan wanted people in London to not only see items of cultural importance, but to know that he was a wealthy and powerful ruler. The crown was a clear statement of the magnificence of the Ottoman empire, something designed to impress.
Hopefully it will also gain me a better-paying position in London society once this exhibition is over.
England was a hard place for a young woman without proper connections or money to survive. The Sultan’s offer for her to help curate this display could not have come at a better time for Jane. She had been between paid employment and down to a few pennies when the opportunity had presented itself. Her last role as governess to a pair of overindulged and spoilt eleven-year-old girls had been enough for her to decide she had to find another way to make a living.
If only the British Museum would take on a female scholar.
She had prayed for that miracle more times than she cared to count, but every application she submitted always came back as a polite refusal. Women had no place in archeology.
Unless something new dropped into her lap, she was destined to end up working in a bookshop or as an unofficial, underpaid guide showing guests around the museum.
“Well, I had better get on with completing the rest of the information cards today, your excellency. People might find the pottery pieces a bit more interesting if they knew where they had come from and how people living in Byblos actually used them,” she said.
With the exhibition due to open in two days, her focus had to be on doing everything to ensure it was a popular sensation, one which would draw large crowds. If the first visitors could be suitably impressed, then word of mouth might serve to attract more patrons.
If I can make this a success, I might be able to get myself established back in England and finally meet the right people. People who can help with my quest.
The quest had begun with her late father, and Jane had vowed to complete it.
The rumors were true. The secret letter was real. She had even managed to find the cypher with which to unlock the letter’s coded message.
Jane had painstakingly put together all the clues and was anxious to move forward with the search. The only thing she lacked—money.
If she could just find one person with cash to spare whom she could trust, there would be nothing left between her and claiming a king’s long-lost treasure.
Chapter Three
George shivered as the breeze from the River Thames whipped through his shirt. It had been a particularly warm September day, and he had foolishly not thought to wear a coat this evening. He did his best to ignore Harry’s disapproving snort as he stepped down from the carriage. At least Harry’s wife, Alice, was kind enough to gift him a sympathetic smile as George hurriedly buttoned his jacket.
