Midnight Jewels (24 page)

"Of course not. I'm the one who's sorry." She nodded at Lance. "As you can see, there's no problem. Thanks for alerting me. You may go back to bed."

Lance accepted his dismissal without a word and vanished back into me bushes.

Isobel smiled at Croft, who was still standing in front of Mercy. Her dark gaze slid over his nude frame with what Mercy could only describe as professional interest.

"Don't let me interrupt your swim," Isobel said. "You are quite welcome to finish it. Lance and Dallas have rooms at the back of the house on the floor above. Lance happened to be up getting himself a drink of water or something and thought he heard a noise. We have to take strange noises seriously up here in the mountains. We're so isolated and Erasmus has so many valuable things here in the house. But now
that I know what the problem is, I won't disturb you further. Good night and enjoy your swim. I'll turn out the overhead lights on my way back up the stairs. Shall I leave on the path lamps? It's a little difficult to find your way down here when they're off."

"That would be great," Croft said. "Thanks. And sorry again about alarming everyone."

"No problem. See you at breakfast, unless you'd prefer to sleep in."

"We'll be at breakfast," Croft assured her.

Mercy exhaled in relief as Isobel disappeared down the garden path. "Good grief. How embarrassing."

"If you want to save yourself further embarrassment in the future, try not giving Lance an eyeful."

"Don't you dare blame me for this. Everything that's happened tonight is all your fault." Mercy scrambled out of the pool and grabbed her robe. "And I'm not the only who who got leered at tonight. I saw Isobel staring at you. That water doesn't conceal much, you know. It was obvious you didn't have on a swimsuit."

Croft planted both hands on the edge of the pool and hauled himself out in a single, smooth movement. Then he surprised Mercy with an unexpected grin. "You can stare all you want, honey. I won't mind."

"Thank you very much." Primly, she turned away and fastened the sash of her robe. "But I think I've seen all I want tonight."

Croft shrugged. He glanced regretfully toward the far end
of the room. "I haven't seen all I want, but I guess I've seen all I'm going to see tonight," he muttered quietly. "Now that the hired hands are awake and alert, I can't risk going back into the vault. Somebody might be paying attention this time. I'll have to try again later." He followed Mercy out of the garden room and back up the stairs.

When Mercy walked into her own room and closed the connecting door he didn't try to open it.

For a long while she sat on the edge of her bed staring out at the endless mountain sky. Tomorrow, she decided, she was going to have a serious talk with Croft. She would insist he take her for a hike to some place where she wouldn't have to keep her voice low and watch every word.

It occurred to Mercy that this business of having to worry about listening devices in the bedroom was very useful for Croft. It was an effective way to keep her from asking too many questions or making too many demands. The man definitely had a talent for getting his own way.

Croft wasn't thinking about his talent for getting his own way the next morning as he sat down to breakfast with Isobel, Gladstone and Mercy. He was giving grave consideration to the limitations on his time at Gladstone's mountain fortress. The party was scheduled for that night. The next day he and Mercy would be leaving. Last night had very nearly turned into a full-scale disaster; that left only tonight to try to accomplish something useful.

Breakfast was a delightful meal served in a glass walled room that had spectacular views on three sides. Dallas and Lance served the fresh fruit, heated silver racks of toast, Colombian coffee and goat cheese omelettes. Croft was served tea perfectly brewed in a pre-warmed ceramic pot. The tea was a very rind blend of Ceylon and Indian leaves, full-bodied with an excellent color and aroma.

The room was rilled with morning sunlight. It reflected
very nicely off the sterling and crystal. The peach colored nappery and a beautifully restrained arrangement of peach gladiolus provided just the right hint of color in the elegantly light room.

Croft knew that from a purely aesthetic point of view he should admire the flower arrangement. It was quite perfect, austere and subtle. Isobel was no doubt responsible for it. But the more he looked at it, the more he found himself wondering how Mercy would have handled the flowers. He suspected she would have chosen a more brilliant shade of flower to start. And then she would have given full scope to the flower's inherent lush qualities in her design. The final effect would have been a bright, brash, intriguing counterpoint in the elegant room. Croft knew he would have been charmed by the result even if he did feel compelled to criticize it.

Gladstone was in an engaging mood, talking animatedly with Mercy about books. There was no doubt but
that the man was a devoted collector who knew his field. Mercy was once again hanging on his every word, participating eagerly in ate discussion while Croft and Isobel listened politely.

"You must tell me how you came across
Valley
," Gladstone said as he helped himself to dry toast. "No offense, my dear, but I would have expected it to turn up in one of the East coast or English auction houses rather than a secondhand bookshop out in Washington. It is a rather valuable item."

"That's the great thing about the book business, isn't it?" Mercy smiled happily. "You never know when you're going to unearth buried treasure. I got
Valley
in a trunkful of books I picked up at a flea market. I had no idea it was inside. I thought the whole trunk was full of used paperbacks and some assorted junk."

"You must have been very excited when you realized what you had."

Mercy nodded. "I wasn't sure at first, but I spent a few years as a librarian and I had enough training to know
Valley
might be valuable. I also had enough training to go about finding out if the book was really worth anything. As soon as I'd verified that it was an original and not just a clever reproduction, I put the ad in that catalog you happened to see."

"Did anyone else call about the ad?" Gladstone asked casually.

Croft saw Mercy blink, but she never missed a beat as she replied immediately. "No. No one else telephoned. I was delighted when I got your offer, believe me."

"You must have wondered about my, er, interests when you got my call. Did you think I was the prurient sort?"

"Of course not," Mercy said instantly. "It's obvious
Valley
is hardly an example of run-of-the-mill pornography. The copper plate illustrations are beautifully done and the writing is very literate. The original owner must have spent a fortune to have it bound in that beautifully tooled Moroccan leather. Many collectors who have a general collection would want such a fine example of, uh, curiosa on their shelves. That sort of thing is so rare."

"It is, indeed. I didn't take the time to show you the other night, but I have some even more valuable examples of what might be termed curiosa down in the vault. There are one or two particularly fine seventeenth century Japanese painted scrolls. Not true books, perhaps, but I was unable to resist them when they came on the market. The Japanese have done some exquisite erotic art, as have the Indians and the Chinese. That section of my collection is not my chief area of interest, but I want it be as excellent as possible. I believe in acquiring only the best."

Croft saw Mercy's gaze go briefly to Isobel, who didn't appear to notice. "You are fortunate to be able to indulge your interests. Not all of us can afford to do so."

Gladstone chuckled. "Inheriting money from several generations of shrewd ancestors is extremely helpful." Without any warning he turned to Croft. "Tell me, Croft, do you share any of Mercy's interest in the rare and the valuable?"

Croft looked at Mercy. "Occasionally I'm fascinated by rare and valuable things." Perhaps that explained his growing fascination with Mercy Pennington, Croft thought! She was so rare and so very valuable and she had absolutely no idea of her own uniqueness. She bloomed for him like one of the beautiful flowers in the mountain meadows, unselfconsciously delightful.

"I have always sought to surround myself with the beautiful and the rare and the valuable," Gladstone went on conversationally. "Some people say we are what we eat, but I believe we are just as influenced by our environment. Do you agree?"

Croft was watching Mercy eat a strawberry. She was thoroughly enjoying the fruit and it showed. He realized it gave him great pleasure to see her pleasured. Reluctantly he took his gaze from the sight of the plump red strawberry disappearing between her lips and looked at Gladstone.

"The ability to appreciate the rare or the exotic or the beautiful is largely a matter of education and the development of a certain kind of sensitivity. It has nothing to do with whether the viewer has any of the equivalent human virtues. Surrounding an evil man with works of fine art and great beauty would not alter his basic nature."

"In other words," Mercy said as she reached for another strawberry, "you can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear."

"Exactly," Croft murmured. But one might be able to disguise the ear for a long time so that few would recognize it for what it was, he added silently.

Mercy pursed her lips. "Speaking of valuable things, aren't you worried about having a house full of people to-night? What about security? Won't it worry you to have so many people in the house at the same time?"

"Dallas and Lance handle that end of things for us," Isobel explained. "But there is really very little need to concern ourselves with the possibility of theft. The artists in the colony are all quite grateful to Erasmus for his patronage. It's unlikely any of them would abuse his generosity."

"I see." Mercy started in on her goat cheese omelette.

"What would you two like to do today?" Gladstone asked genially. "We want you to enjoy yourselves."

"I'd like to take a walk this morning," Mercy said, glancing determinedly at Croft. "I haven't really had a chance to enjoy the scenery firsthand."

"An excellent idea," Gladstone approved. "We have several examples of Alpine meadows within walking distance and the views are superb. I would suggest you take a topographical map and a compass, however, or else stay within sight of the house. It's far too easy to get lost out there. One must never forget this is true wilderness, some of the last left in the States."

"We'll leave right after breakfast," Mercy said enthusiastically. Then she smiled benignly at Croft. "I'll bet Croft knows how to follow a topographical map and read a compass, don't you, Croft?"

He saw the mischief in her wide-eyed, innocent green gaze and realized just how much he was learning to enjoy that element in her nature. She didn't fool him for a minute, though. The sweet, sexy little witch was determined to get him out of the house where she could lecture him to her heart's content. Croft surrendered to the inevitable. It occurred to him that he usually did around Mercy.

"We won't get lost," he said equably and went back to his omelette.

An hour later they walked away from the house, following Dallas' directions toward a meadow that he assured them was in full bloom. Mercy was wearing her jeans and a pair of white Nikes along with a flower patterned camp shirt. She had her hair in a short ponytail and Croft thought she looked very fresh and enticing. It was a fine morning to be setting out on a hike with this woman.

"Of course we're not going to get lost," Mercy murmured provokingly as she strode along beside him. "I knew right away you'd be an expert at hiking in the wilderness, just like you are at everything else."

"I'm not an expert at everything and we're not going very far." He didn't like the taunting note in her voice. She was looking for a way to bait him again. He just knew it. "Don't," he advised.

"Don't what?"

"Don't spend the whole morning trying to provoke me. I know you think it's your only form of retaliation at the moment, but I'm not in the mood for it."

"Retaliation?" She looked more innocent than ever. "Why would I want to retaliate against you? Just because my whole future is hanging in the balance and I'm scared to death you're going to do something that will cut the thread that's holding it, why should I feel like retaliating?"

"Don't exaggerate. Your whole future is not hanging in the balance."

"Oh yes it is. You'd better exercise a great deal of caution while you're investigating Gladstone, or I'm the one who will pay the price. I don't want any more embarrassing scenes like last night."

"It wouldn't have even occurred if you'd stayed upstairs where you belong." He slanted her a quelling glance but she didn't seem to notice.

"I won't take the blame for what happened. It was all your fault. I suppose you're going to make another foray tonight while the party's going on?"

He cocked an eyebrow, mildly surprised by her shrewd guess. "I don't have much choice. We leave tomorrow. If I'm ever going to get the proof I need, it will have to be tonight."

"I take it you never got inside the vault last night?"

"I didn't have a chance. I heard you clumping through the garden just as I was starting to crack the lock."

"You're a cat burgler, too? You pick locks? My, what a talented man."

He decided to ignore the sarcasm. "I am not a cat burglar, but I've had to learn a few things about locks in the past."

"Ah, yes. Your past," Mercy said with grim determination. "That's something I've been wanting to discuss with you. I think now is the time to do it."

He felt suddenly uneasy. "Forget it, Mercy. My past isn't something I spend much time discussing with anyone." .

"You'll discuss it with me. Now."

"Is that right? Why should I?"

"Because," she announced with gleeful satisfaction, "I'm going to blackmail you into it."

Croft halted on the rocky trail. "You want to run that by me again?"

"You heard me. I'm going to blackmail you for some answers to my questions. Either you talk or I'll blow the lid off your investigation. Gladstone will kick you out of the house so fast you'll never know what hit you."