How to Marry an Earl (A Cinderella Society 1)

“You were stealing coins.”

“A bit of a lark,” Darrington said, sweat beading his brow. He tried to smile. Nothing about Conall’s stance or expression invited a smile. Of any kind.

“I’m sure I don’t need to mention that should anything else go missing, anything at all, the magistrate’s irons will be nothing to what awaits you when I find you, Darrington.”

“See here, I’m an earl, same as you,” Darrington sputtered, bravado wavering.

“Yes, but you didn’t steal from me, did you? You stole from a duke.”

Darrington paled. “Meant nothing by it.”

“I am sure.”

“Are you…going to tell him?”

Conall paused, waited for more sweat to bead on the other man’s brow. “Of course, I am.”

“But…no harm done. You have the coins!”

“Being a poor thief does not absolve you from the theft in the first place.” He shoved the other man away, releasing his shirt. “Off you go.”

Darrington fair galloped from the room. Persephone expected he might try running all the way back to London.

Conall locked the doors carefully behind him. “You can come out now, Persephone.”

“Priya’s right, you do have a preternatural ability to see where we are,” she grumbled.

He smiled faintly. “And as I told her, when the fashions change to less frippery on the hemline, you will find hiding to be much easier.”

She glanced down at the lace wafting around the bottom of her dressing gown. “Noted.” She stepped out of the leaves. “Do you think Darrington is still running?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.” She hurried forward and plucked the coins from the floorboards. “What did he take? Did he harm them?”

“A handful of Roman coins,” Conall explained.

She beamed at him. “You knew they were Roman.”

“They were sitting next to the figurine of an armless Vestal Virgin. Hardly remarkable detective skills.”

“Still.” She examined them carefully. “He left a fingerprint.” She wiped it off gently. “And he calls himself an antiquarian.”

“Shameful,” Conall agreed.

She heard the teasing in his voice as she placed them carefully back where they belonged. “There.”

“All right with the world?”

She stepped back and surveyed her borrowed domain. “I think so. I am going to have to lock the rest of these cabinets myself and move the artifacts from the broken shelf. I assumed the duke had seen to it. A shameful oversight on my part. Not that it excuses Darrington in any way.”

Luckily, she had the keys in her pocket. She’d been carrying them with her since the crates had first been delivered. She went to each door, found the right key from the ring, fit it into the lock and turned it, then tested it. On and on she went. Conall watched her patiently, with a little smile.

“Better?” he asked, when she had finally finished.

“Yes.”

“All done?”