Page 122 of Ironvine

“Oh..I…I hadn’t thought of that, really…”

“You should. The Duke and I enjoy honouring talent and craft. I would be most pleased at being the one who first inspired you to paint such paintings.” She licked her bottom lip. “What a shocking influence I am on you, and we’ve only just become friends.”

Georgina let out a soft laugh. “You are most generous, Your Grace, and I appreciate your candour and our frank conversation.”

She smiled at her. “I do as well.”

“Instead of money, mightn’t I ask you for another form of payment?”

“What kind of payment do you mean?”

“There is something I would ask of you.”

“Ask me,” said the Duchess. “How could I be of help to you?”

Georgina’s throat burned. “The night of that ball in London, you wore the most astonishing necklace.”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get that necklace from?”

An eyebrow raised. “You would like the name of my jeweller?’

“That necklace came from no jeweller, but from private hands.” Georgina swallowed. “Hands that stole it.”

Her eyes blazed. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know that necklace, Your Grace. I know to whom it belongs—”

“It belongs to me.” She enunciated each word with a dagger-like sharpness.

Georgina had offended her, and she very well might storm right out of the house at any moment and all would be lost. But this would be Georgina’s only chance, and she had to take it. “You had the clasps hidden by your hair that night. Are the clasps not wolves with eyes of diamonds?”

The Duchess’s features tightened, and her face paled. “That necklace belongs to me. It was a gift from Hugh. The most beautiful gift he ever gave me. His final gift.”

“Hugh gave it to you? I know who sold it to him. He’d stolen it—”

“Why should I care? What the devil does it matter?”

“Because it was Mr. Treharne, the man who challenged him to a duel.”

“No!” Her voice was dragon fire obliterating everything in its path. “That necklace is mine, and it shall remain mine forever. Never speak of it again.”

ChapterFifty-Three

Georgina

Ice sweptthrough Georgina’s veins at the cold harshness of the Duchess’s voice. Everything had been going so well, and now she’d said too much and made her angry.

“Your Grace, I—”

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” came a servant’s voice behind her. “Mrs. Treharne is here to see you and says it’s quite urgent.”

The Duchess’s eye narrowed, and Georgina’s heart stopped.

Dear God, NO.

She had never lied to a guest before, but she was the mistress of this house and she could, and she most certainly would. “Please inform Mrs. Treharne that I am not available.”

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