“Hid them? But that’s impossible.” Eva considered the pretty topaz and cannetille necklace. “The heels are too shallow. The soles on some are too flimsy. And why would he do that when I might send them to the cobbler?”
“I agree. It makes no sense.”
Silence descended.
Mr Ashwood rubbed his sculpted jaw while lost in thought.
Kathleen’s snivelling continued.
Then another thought struck her. “You don’t think Howard hid the jewels in the pair I sent to the cobbler?” An icy shiver shot from her neck to her navel. “You don’t think he got into a fight when he tried to reclaim—”
“Don’t torment yourself with stories,” Mr Ashwood said. “From what I’ve heard of your brother, murder is the only sin of which he is ignorant.” Mr Ashwood pushed to his feet. “Excuse me a moment. I need to check something in your brother’s room.”
And with that, the gentleman left them.
The question that had been dancing on Eva’s lips for the last two minutes demanded an audience. “Are you with child? Is that why you risked everything to help him?”
Kathleen broke into a whimper. “I thought so, ma’am, but no.”
“And you’ve had relations here, under my roof?”
A solemn nod was the maid’s only reply.
Contempt for her brother surfaced.
Had it not been for Mr Becker’s promise to her mother, Eva would be working in service. Ensconced in his villa in Italy, her father hadn’t paid her allowance in years. Everything she owned was thanks to Mr Becker’s generosity. Writing had been the answer to her misfortune, a chance to earn an income, be independent. But in the end, she was no different from Kathleen. A man with a mind for seduction had sought to control her, to spoil her prospects, too.
Mr Ashwood returned, dragging Eva out of her melancholy. He carried an old pair of boots that were in fashion long before the turn of the century. Perhaps Howard liked to think of himself as a dashing Cavalier.
“Did you find those in Howard’s room?” Eva couldn’t imagine Howard owning something so terribly passé.
“They were hidden behind his polished Hessians.” Mr Ashwood reached into his own boot and withdrew a blade.
Kathleen gasped in fright.
Eva couldn’t admire the gentleman more if she tried.
“The heel is loose.” Mr Ashwood used the blade to wedge the heel from the sole. “The nails have been removed before.” Indeed, the boot came apart in his hands.
Something shiny and beautiful, something that sparkled beneath the soft glow of candlelight, fell to the floor.
Mr Ashwood discarded the boot and scooped up the rose-cut diamond earrings. He crossed the room, captured Eva’s hand and placed them gently into her palm.
“These belong to you,” he said in the slow hypnotic way that teased her senses. “With luck, we’ll find the other stolen items, too.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe.
Finding the earrings brought happiness beyond measure. And yet it was the way Mr Ashwood held her hand—as if she were as delicate and as precious as her mother’s diamond jewels—that made her eyes widen in wonder.
“You may leave, Kathleen,” Eva said, though it was Mr Ashwood who commanded her full attention. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her desire for the man had been simmering since their passionate kiss. Since his daring declaration.
The maid sobbed. “Leave the house, ma’am?”
“Return to your room tonight. We will discuss your employment tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank you, ma’am. I swear—”
“Good night, Kathleen.”