The Art of Taming a Rake (Legendary Lovers 4)

“You know I can’t resist a challenge like that,” Quinn pointed out.

“I am counting on it,” Venetia retorted before raising her sweet mouth to his.

As luck would have it, the investigation advanced a step the following afternoon when Quinn received a message from George Bellamy’s landlord, saying the gamester had arrived in town.

Taking the same precautions as before, Quinn went armed for the interview, while Venetia waited for him impatiently at home. Upon his return, they repaired to Quinn’s study, where he shared what he’d learned.

“Bellamy claims to have won the pendant last winter at a Paris gaming hell. He recalled the name of the club but not the French gentleman who possessed the pendant, only that he was elderly and had the manner of an aristocrat.”

“Do you believe Bellamy?” Venetia asked.

“Yes. He seemed entirely forthcoming, and I could see no reason for him to lie to me. He also appears innocent of any designs on my life.”

“I suppose we should be relieved.”

Quinn gave a sigh of frustration. “This new lead may prove fruitless. There must be hundreds of elderly French nobles who gamble in Paris. And the pendant’s prior owner may have nothing to do with my would-be assassin. In fact, I’m almost convinced the two events are unrelated. It stands to reason a French nobleman could have salvaged the sunken treasure,

since the shipwreck occurred off the southern coast of France, but why would there even be a connection to my shooter if not through Lisle?”

“Didn’t you tell me that your mother’s distant cousin is a French nobleman?”

“Yes. Phillipe Rieux, Compte de Montreux.”

“Perhaps he can assist in discovering who gambled away the pendant to Bellamy at the Paris hell, or who might have tried to recover the valuables from the ship.”

“Perhaps. When I wrote to him two months ago, he promptly replied that he knew of no attempts to locate the treasure.”

Venetia pursed her lips. “If the compte is related to your family, is it possible he possesses pieces from the collection that weren’t lost with the rest of the jewels?”

“It’s possible, but he made no mention of it in his letter. And if he did own any of the jewels, why would he hide the fact, particularly when he knows I am searching for ties?” Quinn looked thoughtful. “I will have to write to him again.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Not well. I haven’t seen him in years, but I remember him visiting Tallis Court when I was a boy. For a short while he and my mother were engaged to marry. But that was before my father visited Paris and swept her off her feet.”

“So your father stole her away from the compte?” Venetia asked curiously.

“It was not a love match, merely an arrangement to unite their fortunes and bloodlines. My mother, Angelique, was an heiress, the only daughter of the Duc and Duchesse de Chagny. Although…I suppose Montreux could have been in love with her. She was a stunning beauty who reportedly had all of Paris at her feet.”

“Love match or not, he could not have been happy to lose her and her fortune.”

“Apparently they made up their differences. During the Revolution, he fled France to escape the savagery of Robespierre and his cohorts. Montreux spent several years in exile here in England and only returned home when the French royals were reinstated.”

“So jealousy was not a factor,” Venetia mused. “He must not have been too heartbroken by your mother’s jilting if he remained close enough to be welcomed into her home by her rival suitor.”

“And she was highly sympathetic to his plight, since her own parents were guillotined.”

Just then Quinn’s butler appeared in the doorway, holding a silver salver. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but you asked to be informed at once when any correspondence arrived from Mr. Macky.”

“Yes, Wilkins. I have been expecting it.”

Quinn accepted the letter and dismissed the servant, then settled back in his armchair and stared at the seal for a long moment. Venetia only understood his hesitation upon remembering it could contain information about his late mother’s death.

Finally Quinn broke the wax seal and opened the missive, which looked to be two pages long.

The silence that followed left Venetia on edge. With increasing concern, she watched the play of emotions cross Quinn’s face…foreboding, sadness, puzzlement, and resolve.

“What does Macky say?” she asked anxiously. “Did he learn the identity of the shipwreck survivor?”