Page 9 of Stolen By the Rogue
He took a hurried step back when Harry and Alice suddenly appeared from the midst of the crowd. Alice held out her hand. “Hello, I am Lady Alice Steele, and this is my husband, Harry. It is a pleasure to hear a female speak with such authority on a subject. You seem to know an awful lot about the exhibition.”
The woman dipped into a deep curtesy at the mention of Alice’s title.
“Jane Scott, Lady Alice. I am the curator of his majesty’s collection,” she replied.
“You are J. Scott? When I read the advertisement, I assumed you were a man,” said George.
Jane screwed up her face. “Yes. I wasn’t sure that would come to see the items if I put my real name in the newspaper. Fortunately, it doesn’t appear to have stopped people from recommending the show once they have been here.”
“That was rather clever of you,” replied Harry.
She blinked slowly as her gaze took in the bright green floral shirt which Lord Harry Steele wore under his jacket. Marriage might have tamed some of Harry’s eccentric behavior, but he was still one for dressing outrageously. George was grateful that his friend had at least decided to leave the matching silk top hat at home.
“I have discovered that many London folk only take you at first blush. If they thought a woman was curating this important work, they might give it a miss. I apologize for the slight deception,” said Jane.
George and Harry exchanged a knowing look. Neither was going to condemn someone for practicing the very thing which they had built their careers upon.
When her gaze turned back to him, George felt an uncommon sense of discomfort. He wasn’t used to being awkward around women. But this Jane Scott was a female of a variety entirely new to his experience. A woman of beauty, intelligence, and something else.
“And you are?” she asked.
A dolt who cannot remember his manners when it comes to meeting women and actually making formal introductions.
He bowed his head. “The Honorable George Hawkins at your service, Miss Scott.”
Her pale grey-green eyes flashed with an unmistakable hint of interest. For all the times that he’d privately hated coming from a family of judges, right now George was more than happy to add the honorable moniker to his name. Anything to get Jane Scott’s attention and hold it.
Now if he could just get Alice and Harry to go away—he might stand a chance at chatting her up.
How can I get rid of them without causing offence?
Alice and her baby belly moved closer. “Tell me, Jane, how is it that you have come to be in London and working for the supreme ruler of the Ottoman Empire? I note a hint of a foreign accent in your speech.”
Jane nodded. “I was born here in London but spent most of my life living in Byblos in the Eyalet of Sidon. It is on the Mediterranean Sea, about fifty miles north west of Damascus. My father was an antiquities advisor to the sultan. The pieces of pottery are from the dig at Byblos castle.”
From the obviouswasin her last sentence, and the touch of sadness in Jane’s voice at the mention of her father, George would bet a penny that Mister Scott was no longer amongst the living.
And odd that she didn’t say anything about the rest of her family.
Who are you? I want to know more about you.
Jane gave a shy, awkward smile. “But enough about me; I am sure you are not here to listen to my ramblings. Would you like to see Baldwin’s magnificent gold and jeweled-encrusted crown?”
“Yes please,” replied Alice.
George followed Harry and Alice as Jane led them into a second room. For someone who had arrived only a short while ago, firmly intent on an evening of sly reconnaissance, he suddenly found himself unable to keep his focus solely on the idea of stealing the crown. His attention was stuck on the delightful form of Miss Jane Scott.
Now there is a prize worth capturing.
Chapter Four
Jane stepped into the second display room and held out her hand.
“My lord, lady, and honorable gentleman, may I present to you the crown of Baldwin the First,” she announced proudly.
She loved this moment. Witnessing people’s reactions to their first sight of the precious jewel always gave her a secret thrill.
Lord Harry and Lady Alice exchanged excited grins then rushed into the space and right up against the red rope, which kept visitors at a respectable distance from the crown. Wide-eyed, they craned their necks and gazed at Baldwin’s prize. Jane came and stood next to them. George walked into the room but oddly took up a spot at the rear.
