The Devil's Thief (31 page)

“Now,
Ernest,” Alasdair said, his hands spread out in a gesture of good will, “that
simply isn’t true.” He held up a hand to stop
Ernest
as he was about to make a comment. “And if you feel that way, then I shall
strive to mend my ways.”

Ernest
folded his arms and sighed heavily. “Out with it. What have you done now?”

Alasdair
couldn’t even get angry at Ernest’s attitude. He deserved it, and more—which
he was sure to get just as soon as he told Ernest about the pearl. Thinking of
Julianna, he faced Ernest with determination. “I’ve lost the pearl.”

Ernest’s
mouth dropped open in horrified shock. “You’ve what?”

Alasdair
sighed and nodded. “You heard me correctly. The Stewart Pearl is gone. Stolen.”
He snapped his fingers. “Poof. Gone.” Though he tried to make light of it, his
heart was still heavy over the loss. Until the other night, a small part of him
had hoped that the pearl was still in Julianna’s possession. Trying to retrieve
it had turned into a difficult task and it was weighing on him. But he wasn’t
going to tell Ernest that, especially since he was determined to get it back.

Ernest’s
mouth opened and closed soundlessly for several seconds. Then he found his
voice. His face turned purple and he began yelling. This was new. Usually he
started out very rational, and only later resorted to yelling.

“You
drunken, inebriated profligate!” he roared. “How dare you lose Aunt Pitty’s
pearl! Have you no shame, no sense of responsibility? She entrusted it to you!
It was your mother’s pride and joy! And this is how you repay her trust?
Her devotion to you?
And you don’t even care! You sit there
completely at ease with your degeneracy and irresponsibility.”

“There
is more to the story,” Alasdair said through gritted teeth.

“More
to the story? Dare I assume that it involves debauchery of some kind? A woman
at the very least?” Ernest said tightly, clearly trying to rein in his temper.

Alasdair
took several deep breaths while they glared at each other. He kept telling
himself
 
he’d
vowed not to get angry. He had known that Ernest would be upset.
Although the fact that his anger seemed to stem from his esteem for
Alasdair’s mother was a complete surprise.

“Yes,
it involves a woman. But more than that I cannot say.” As much as he wanted to
exonerate himself, Alasdair couldn’t. After all, it was his fault. He’d kept
Julianna in his rooms that night because he had wanted her. And he’d taken her.
And he’d promised her the pearl. Those were his actions and no one else could
be blamed. Of course she’d taken it. It had been why she was there, after all.
She hadn’t really known him yet, not well enough to change her plans even after
they were intimate that night. At least that was the reason he’d settled on
last night in an attempt to explain her actions.

“You
cannot say? Who are you protecting, Alasdair?” Ernest held up a hand and
lowered his head. “No, don’t tell me. It’s better that I don’t know these
things when the constabulary calls.”

Alasdair
snorted. “Have you ever received a visit from the authorities concerning me? I
think not. I am smarter than that.”

Ernest
had himself under control now, his fisted hands the only sign of his anger.
“Tell me what happened.”

Alasdair
licked his lips and formed the explanation in his
head first
.
It left a lot to be desired, he had to admit, but it was the best he could do
without lying, which he was determined to avoid. His experience with Julianna
had taught him the value of honesty. “A thief broke in during the night. In the
morning the pearl was gone. I tracked the thief with Sir Hilary’s assistance,
but because of extenuating circumstances I was not able to retrieve the pearl,
yet. But I am working on it.”

Ernest
cocked his head and regarded Alasdair disbelievingly, a muscle twitching in his
jaw. “Let me get this straight. You know who took the pearl?” Alasdair nodded.
“But you won’t tell?” He nodded again. “You know where the pearl is?” At this
Alasdair was able to shake his head no. Julianna no longer possessed the pearl,
and he wasn’t sure whether Blackman had already sold it. “I see.” Ernest tapped
a finger on the desk for several seconds. “May I ask what these ‘extenuating
circumstances’ are?”

Alasdair
rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It involves the honor of a woman, and my future
happiness.”

Ernest
blinked rapidly several times. “I see. Can you tell me what this has to do with
your future happiness?”

“No.”

Ernest
closed his eyes as if in pain. “Have you been drinking?”

Well,
that was a tricky question. “Yes, but only because Hil and Roger insisted on
celebrating my betrothal. Which is actually a secret. I’m not supposed to know
her well enough to propose marriage yet. And, of course, she hasn’t actually
agreed.”

His
explanation did nothing to lighten Ernest’s pained expression. “Does your not-quite
fiancée know that the pearl has been stolen? And that you are protecting this
criminal?”

Alasdair
had to smile at that. “Oh, yes, she knows,” he said emphatically.

He’d
shocked Ernest once again. “And she isn’t bothered by this?”

Alasdair
shook his head. “No, she’s quite happy about it.”

“So
you really are getting married. Not to one of your fancy pieces, I hope?”

Alasdair
bristled. “I do not have fancy pieces. I have lovers. I had lovers, rather. Now
I have one lover. My future wife.”

Ernest
put his forehead in the palm of his hand. “That is perhaps more information
than I think your fiancée would wish for me to know. Particularly since she is
not, apparently, your fiancée yet.”

“Yes,
I think you are correct,” Alasdair said with a grimace. “This honesty business
is harder than it looks. It certainly gets away from you, doesn’t it?”

Ernest
picked up a sheet of paper and a pen. “We shall have to contact the
authorities. You do not have to reveal what you know, but if the pearl can be
retrieved, then we must make every attempt to do so.”

Alasdair
stood rapidly and grabbed the end of Ernest’s pen. “No! No, we will not. I am
the owner, and I do not wish to report it.”

“Don’t
you want it back, Alasdair?” Ernest asked in confusion. “It was your mother’s,
and her father’s before her, and so on. It has been in your family for generations.
It is the Hamilton family legacy, and the source of their pride.
And part of the Sharp family legacy now.
How can you just
let it go?”

That
was when Alasdair realized that Ernest was trying to protect him. In his
stuffy, overbearing way it was what Ernest had always tried to do, but Alasdair
had been too arrogant and self-righteous to see it. He sighed and smiled
affectionately at the earl as he let go of his pen and sat back down, which
seemed to confound the other man even more. “I know all those things. And they
are important to me.
More important than I ever realized,
actually.
But I have found something more important. I have found love.
And to report the pearl’s disappearance may put that love at risk, which I will
not do.”

Ernest
slowly set his pen down. “Your fiancée had something to do with the pearl’s
disappearance?”

Alasdair
stepped out on a limb and trusted Ernest. “Yes. And I cannot betray her and
jeopardize her safety.”

“Are
you sure she’s not using you?” Ernest asked cynically. “Is she relying on your
love to keep you silent?”

Even
before he was done, Alasdair was shaking his head. “No. Because the sad truth
is that my actions alone lost the pearl. The truth is I gave it to her.”

“Why?”
Ernest seemed genuinely perplexed. Alasdair supposed that his cousin couldn’t
conceive of giving away the most valuable thing you possessed to have a woman.

“Because
I wanted her.” His bald statement had Ernest shaking his head in bewilderment.

“I
will never understand you,” Ernest said regretfully.

Alasdair
smiled. “I hope one day you do,” he told him sincerely. “And you mustn’t worry.
I’ve already put a plan in motion to retrieve the pearl. I shall have it back
in no time.” He crossed his fingers behind his back and kept the smile on his
face while he said it.

Ernest
picked up the letter he’d been reading when Alasdair arrived, the one he’d
brandished so angrily. “I was going to see if you wished to attach yourself to
a charitable project that needs patrons. I thought it might be a good
investment in your character. But with the loss of the pearl and your upcoming
marriage I doubt you’ll have the time.”

“My
soon-to-be fiancée is interested in charitable works,” Alasdair said, relieved
that they seemed to have moved beyond the pearl.

“Hmm,”
Ernest said, “so she doesn’t spend all her time stealing valuable family
heirlooms?”

“I
never said she stole it,” Alasdair growled.

Ernest
waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, you gave it to her and it disappeared.
I completely see the difference.” Alasdair did not appreciate his sarcasm.
“Perhaps I should turn this over to her, then. Apparently I am an ogre for
trying to turn a profit on a foolish and ill-advised venture. I’ve purchased a
good-sized house in Ludgate only to discover it came with debts and a lien. Apparently
the past owner was letting some foundling home operate there without paying
rent. And now I have a letter from the young lady who runs the home, begging me
for more time to come up with the back rent she owes. I have already given her
more time. The rent was due days ago, and by rights I should have tossed them
all out in the street.” He sighed. “But Wainwright is correct. I can hardly put
women and children out on the street. She has asked if I know of anyone who
might be interested in becoming a patron of the home. I suppose I shall have to
pay the debts myself. What a shoddy piece of business that was on my part.”

Something
was niggling in the back of Alasdair’s brain. Hadn’t Julianna claimed to need
the pearl for rent?
Rent that was due.
And the
pastries that day, they were for the foundling home, not a cat, and not for the
ruffians on Tottenham Court, either. With a sense of foreboding he heard
himself ask, “What is the young lady’s name? The one who runs the home?”

Ernest
picked up the letter. “Harte. Miss Julianna Harte. Why, she lives near you,
Alasdair. Do you know her?”

She
hadn’t lied about the rent, then. Why hadn’t he made the connection? Alasdair
began to laugh. “So it was all in the family, was it? ”

Ernest
looked at him in confusion. “What?”

Alasdair
pointed at the letter. “Ernest, let me introduce you to my almost fiancée.”

Ernest
looked at the letter incredulously. “Miss Harte?” Understanding dawned. “She
took the pearl to pay the rent.” He put his head in his hands again and laughed
wearily. “So ultimately I am responsible for the pearl’s loss?”

Alasdair
sat forward in his chair. “No, Ernest. I am. It’s this honesty business again.
I lied and here we sit. I’ve really got to work on that. So does she,
apparently. But I think I’m ready to admit my lie may have been the catalyst
for my current predicament.”

“And
will it get the pearl back if you master honesty?” Ernest asked.

Alasdair
shook his head. “I doubt it. But I think it will help my marriage a great
deal.”

Ernest
stood and walked over to the sideboard where he kept his liquor. “Let’s have a
drink to honesty, then, shall we? And you can tell me more about this fiancée
and exactly how you plan to get the pearl back.”

Chapter Nineteen

“You can come out of the bushes, Wiley.”

Julianna sat on a bench in the garden at the foundling home,
a toddler in her lap while several other children played nearby. This was her
favorite thing to do when she was here, sit and play with the children. She
didn’t often have the opportunity to do it; there was always so much work to be
done. Right now she ought to be inside helping with chores.

She was relatively sure Wiley had been following her all
afternoon, ever since they’d parted ways in Hyde Park. She’d come to tell Mrs.
Eden about the upcoming move and the changes that were going to take place. It
could have waited, but Julianna’s decision to come here had been deliberate.
She had led Wiley exactly where she wanted him to go.

“Wiley,” she said, exasperated. “I know you’ve been
following me all day. Come out of the bushes and tell me why. For heaven’s
sake, you’ve spent enough time today hiding in shrubbery.”

A muttered curse came from the large holly bush.

“Watch your language,” Julianna admonished. “There are
children present.” She smothered a laugh as Wiley yelped in the bush.
“Honestly, the honeysuckle in the other corner of the garden would have been a
better choice. The holly is quite sharp.”

Wiley emerged from the bush, yanking
his jacket free from several sharply pointed leaves that had attached
themselves to it.
He did not look happy. “’Course I
followed you. Can’t trust you not to go running back to Blackman’s, now can I?”