Valentine's Vow (Avenging Lords 3)
Ava clasped a hand to her heart. From his Bohemian upbringing, had Jonathan not witnessed the value of individuality? Had he not witnessed the power of true love and learnt that money and reputation were no replacement?
She stared at the brother she hardly knew.
“I want the names of those who purchased Father’s belongings,” Ava said, her raging emotions absent from her tone. She had a focus now. Something to keep her busy, to make her life appear fulfilling.
“A gentleman cannot sell his worldly goods privately,” Jonathan retorted. He cupped her elbow and drew her farther away from the gravel path. “What would people think?”
“That did not stop you selling Mother’s ring to Lady Durrant.”
“Portia understands me. She understands my dilemma.”
“Of course she does.”
No doubt Jonathan’s troubles provided endless hours of entertainment.
“I trust her.”
Good Lord, he was a hopeless cause.
“She is in love with Lord Valentine,” Ava said, and who could blame her? “Anyone can see that.”
Jonathan shrugged. “And when she realises he has no intention of offering for her, she will turn her attention to me.”
Talk of Lord Valentine sent Ava’s stomach pitching and rolling.
“You cannot be certain of anything,” Ava said. “Lord Valentine is a private man who guards his emotions.” He behaved with dignity and decorum—except when teasing her about his after-dark activities. “There is no telling what he may be thinking.”
“Valentine is bored in her company. Despite every attempt, Portia cannot make him jealous.”
Ava frowned. So Jonathan was willing to enter into a relationship with a woman who loved another? Did he not have an ounce of self-respect?
“And yet Lord Valentine escorted her back to the ballroom.” Indeed, while Ava was worried about Jonathan owing money to the worst kind of scoundrels—and her heart and head were abound with hopeless notions of romance—Lord Valentine was dancing. “No doubt they are waltzing about the floor without a care in the world.”
“He left with Portia because you told him to go,” Jonathan reminded her. “When she realises Valentine doesn’t want her, I shall be waiting in the wings.”
But Lord Valentine had to marry someone. A man of his integrity did not break a vow. Images of him courting a host of beauties played havoc with her mind. Oh, the least time spent thinking about Valentine the better.
“Then if you did not sell our father’s jewellery privately,” she snapped, returning to the reason they stood shivering in the garden, “whom did you sell it to?”
A sigh left her brother’s lips. It should have been the sound of shame, but it sang of frustration. “To various pawnbrokers.”
“Pawnbrokers!” Hell’s bells, she had no hope of recovering the items now. “Which ones?”
“I was in my cups and cannot remember.”
“You cannot remember?” In an effort to remain calm, she imagined the moment Jonathan kicked open the door of Mr Fairfax’s room, punched the deceitful rogue in the stomach and gathered Ava into his arms. “Then I shall have to search each one.”
A heavy silence loomed.
In the distance, the orchestra played a Baroque tune, Vivaldi perhaps. Laughter drifted out into the garden. Gaiety permeated the air.
“Take me home,” Ava said. An air of melancholy had settled in her chest. While she would traipse from one pawnbroker to the next searching for her family’s treasured possessions, she had no hope of persuading Lady Durrant to return her mother’s ring. “I trust you are staying with Lord Sterling for the time being.”
“You gave me little choice in the matter.”
“It is not my fault, Jonathan. You have given me every reason not to trust you.” Ava suddenly recalled the reason for visiting the Rockford ball. “You took the pink diamond ring from my box. No doubt you were too intoxicated to remember that, too. No doubt it graces another lady’s finger. A lucky find in some tatty old pawnbroker’s shop.”
Jonathan’s jaw slackened as his brows drew downward. “Ava, I swear I have not touched your things. I know what that ring means to you. It is probably caught up in a string of pearls.”