Page 72 of For the Duke's Eyes Only

Still, Raven found it difficult to believe Charles would help Le Triton steal the Rosetta Stone. What could he possibly gain from it? He may have taken a French mistress, and he was burning the candle at both ends, but to betray his country in such an ostentatious manner would end his career ignobly and open him to being tried for treason.

Though there was always the possibility he’d been blackmailed into helping orchestrate the theft.

“What brings you to Paris?” asked Sir Charles. “I know it’s not wedding shopping. I heard something about the Wish Diamond?”

“You heard correctly. I’m here to find a purchaser for the necklace. Lady India doesn’t want me to keep it. Though she’d rather I donated the priceless antiquity to a museum.” He shrugged. “Weddings are expensive. Especially the outrageous affair she’s planning.”

“Heard about that. Making you pay for your indiscretions, is she? You’re not really going to wear a pink doublet and silver spurs on your shoes?”

“Not a chance.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“She spoonfed the newspaperman humiliating details to bring me down a notch or two.”

“I know the feeling. Lady Sterling has become increasingly difficult of late. A fellow needs his diversions, am I right?”

Which must be a reference to Margot. Charles didn’t yet know that Raven was aware of the affair.

“You’re not wrong,” said Raven with a practiced grin. “I’m sure you’ll be able to help connect me with potential buyers for the Wish Diamond.”

“I have the perfect venue. I’m hosting a small diplomatic affair here at the residence the day after tomorrow.”

“Splendid. I’ll attend with Lady India.”

Raven had read about the plans for the diplomatic affair in the dossier. It was the perfect safe activity for him and Indy to attend together. A safe diplomatic event would keep her out of harm’s way. She’d be occupied with evaluating every attendee for possible culpability.

“I’ll have my valet help with your evening attire,” said Charles. “These formal occasions are so strict on protocol.”

“Thank you.”

He probably knew more about Sir Charles right now than his own wife did. He knew that he was up to his red-rimmed eyeballs in gambling debt, he knew that Margot Delacroix had him twisted in knots around her dainty finger, and that he hadn’t shared the marital bed with his wife in over a year.

“Lady India’s décolletage will be the perfect setting for the diamond, if I may be so bold as to say so,” said Sir Charles. “Everyone will be salivating over her... necklace. I’d consider buying it myself, as a gift for a lady friend, but I’m sure I won’t be able to afford your price.”

Raven didn’t move the smallest muscle, but the crude remark grated on his nerves. And yet Sir Charles was only mimicking the sorts of shameless things Raven used to say.

Did say. There was nothing different about him. He was the same cold-blooded agent with the same careless, hedonistic persona. He wasn’t changing or metamorphosing in any way.

“No doubt she’ll spark a bidding war,” said Raven. “Will Le Triton attend the affair?” He already knew that he hadn’t been invited, but he wanted to watch Sir Charles’s reaction.

Sir Charles obliged by turning one shade grayer and developing a slight tic at the corner of his left eye.

Interesting.

“He won’t attend the diplomatic event, but we can visit him at his gaming house, La Sirène. I have an engagement there tonight. Le Triton has been pouring funds into the Louvre’s new Egyptian exhibit. He’s made several large gifts of antiquities from his collection. I purchased several items of furniture from him for the residence.”

Even more interesting. A connection between Sir Charles, Le Triton, and the Louvre.

Raven remained silent. Sir Charles was agitated about something, and listening quietly sometimes caused people to divulge secrets.

“You wouldn’t believe the deals I’ve negotiated on exquisite French antiquities recently,” said Charles. “I have whole warehouses filled with sixteenth-century windows and medieval carved stonework that I purchased for a song. I’m planning to ship it all to England and rebuild my castle in Dorset in majestic style.”

If you live that long, thought Raven. Associating with Le Triton tended to shorten men’s lives. “I’d love to tour your warehouses while I’m here,” said Raven casually. “You know what a delight I take in such things.”

“Oh, ah...” Sir Charles cleared his throat. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

Raven would tour the warehouses secretly this very night. It would be a simple matter to find the warehouse records in the locked drawers of the handsome escritoire behind them.

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