Page 94 of Ghost in the Garden
“They will be there?” she said uncertainly.
“I believe so.”
For a moment he thought she was actually considering it, maybe even that she would enjoy dancing with him…
“Angela Lambert asked me to go with her and keep her right in Polite Society.”
Unreasonably annoyed by the reintroduction of that name, he retorted, “And yetyouare not worthy to attend? Constance—”
She raised her arm, rapping sharply on the ceiling to instruct the jarvey to stop. “I need fresh air, Solomon. I’ll walk home from here. I’ll see you in the office on Monday when we move on to our next case.”
He knew better than to try to stop her. One of them always ran away at the end of a case, as if afraid of having nothing but mystery between them. Or afraid of admitting to anything else.
She was gone in a flash. He reinstructed the coachman to take him home and sat back on the hard bench. He couldn’t even see her through the window.
Bleakly, he forced himself to acknowledge the other possible reason for this particular bolt. She didn’t want any personal relationship with him, only their business partnership. Whatever the attraction between them—and it had always been there—it was not strong enough for her to pursue it. And she didn’t want him to. That was why she ran away. Or was it?
Maddening woman.Maddening, wretched, awkward,belovedwoman.
*
Their new case,the search for stolen jewels, began the following day, and Constance was glad of it. It kept her from thinking of Solomon and his offer to escort her to Lady Swan’s party. In fact, since they divided all the pawnshops and jeweler’s in London between then, it kept them physically apart too.
She returned to the office briefly at midday as she realized she had failed to make use of her mother’s valuable resources. She scribbled a note, asking Juliet the best places to look for stolen diamonds, inviting her to drop into the office with any ideas or to leave a message with Janey. She then went off to find a likely messenger, paid the boy, and went back to her own search.
Since she more than half expected Juliet to either ignore the message or forget to answer, she wasn’t entirely surprised to find no reply at the office at six o’clock that evening. Nor was there any sign of Solomon, so she and Janey closed up and left together. Janey introduced her to the omnibus, for which Constance was grateful after an unsuccessful day’s trudging up and down city streets and questioning both respectable jewelers and wary pawnshop proprietors.
At home, the main surprise awaited her in the receiving salon.
“A Mrs. Jules, ma’am,” the footman told her from his stance opposite the salon door.
“Really?” Her mother had never once set foot in any of her establishments before. It made Constance extremely suspicious as she peeled off her gloves, untied her hat, and left them over the banister in her haste.
Juliet had been made comfortable. An empty cup and saucer had been abandoned at her elbow, and a glass containing the indifferent sherry was clutched in her plump right hand.
“Wotcha, Con,” she said amiably. “Just admiring your fine room. Guaranteed to cool the ardor with relentless subtlety.”
“That’s the plan. I meet visitors here and decide whether or not to give them a chance.”
“Your haughty servants expect me to run away with the silver,” Juliet said. Loudly enough for Anthony, the footman in the hall, to hear.
“Only because they don’t know you’re my mother,” Constance said, gratified to see Juliet’s eyebrows fly up in astonishment. “I’m not ashamed of you, Ma. What are you doing here? I can’t imagine it’s idle curiosity.”
“Hardly,” her mother said. Opening her reticule, she emptied the contents into her lap, where they glittered like ice. She removed a handkerchief and a few coins from the pile and held up a shining diamond necklace. A matching bracelet, earrings, and a brooch remained in her lap. “These what you’re looking for?”
Constance closed her mouth and swallowed. And swallowed again before she risked trying to speak. “They could be. I hesitate to ask where you got them.”
“Good. ’Cause I won’t tell you. One of the last lots I bought to fence. Got it all for a song, for obvious reasons. It’s got to be recognizable to somebody. I could never have sold it without breaking it all up, and that seemed a shame. Besides, I’s already decided to go straight, so I never did anything with it.”
“That,” Constance said slowly, “has to be the most stupendous trick of fate, or luck, or whatever you call it, ever.”
“Maybe you’re due some luck.”
Constance gave a crooked smile and waved around her. “This is all luck.”
“No, it’s hard work and good sense.”
Constance blinked at this unprecedented praise.
