His sigh seemed to hang in the night air for a long time. ‘Two months before, his wife had been journeying to her parents’ home in Surrey when her coach was attacked. She had been carrying several items of jewellery with her, including the famous diamond necklace Simon had bestowed upon her shortly after their marriage. The report in the newspapers stated that she had suffered a miscarriage shortly after the attack and had died as a result. This was not true. She was violated, Emily, and then strangled. The female companion travelling with her suffered a similar fate, and the coachman and groom were murdered also.
‘Poor Simon never recovered from the death of his wife and his unborn child. Had I known what he intended to do that night I would never have left him. But I vowed, when I saw him laid to rest beside his wife, that I would avenge their deaths, no matter how long it took me.’
For several minutes Emily didn’t trust herself to speak. She may have been gently nurtured, shielded from birth from the more unsavoury aspects of life, but she knew well enough what had happened to Lady Elizabeth Sutherland.
‘Dear God!’ she muttered at length. ‘How dreadful…And how totally unnecessary. Those responsible for the attack on Lady Sutherland didn’t need to resort to such lengths. Why didn’t they simply steal the jewels and go?’
‘Because they’re unspeakable fiends, that’s why,’ he spat between gritted teeth. ‘Lady Sutherland and her servants are by no means the only ones to have fallen foul of those devils over the years. When Lady Melcham’s diamond necklace was stolen from her home, her butler became a further casualty. Although the authorities have no idea as to the identities of the perpetrators of these horrendous crimes, it is generally believed that the brains behind them is someone of my own class, someone who moves freely in Society and discovers by various means the whereabouts of these highly prized items of jewellery at times when they are most easily purloined—when they are being carried about the country, for instance, or when they are left in a house while the master and mistress are away, with fewer servants to guard them.’
As Emily sat quietly digesting what she had learned, something occurred to her as rather odd. ‘You mentioned that all the pieces stolen are well known. That being the case, how on earth do the thieves dispose of them? Surely no one in this country wealthy enough to purchase such highly prized items would be foolish enough to do so, and risk prosecution?’
‘We believe they are being sold abroad. In fact we are reasonably certain that Lady Melcham’s necklace and the one which belonged to the Sutherland family are now in the hands of an Italian nobleman who possesses another in the set. They are being taken out of the country by the same means by which secret information is passed on.’
‘Smugglers?’
‘Yes, Emily. And unless I’m very much mistaken Anderson got wind of a shipment of goods being landed hereabouts. I expect too that he learned that a valuable pearl necklace, which was recently reported stolen, would be taken out of the country on the same vessel landing the contraband.’
‘Yes, that’s possible,’ she agreed. ‘We’re only a matter of three or four miles from the coast here.’
‘Which makes me wonder why the meeting, possibly for the exchange of the necklace, would take place here?’ Sebastian looked about him assessingly, much as he had done when they had driven out in the curricle. ‘It would have made more sense for it to have happened somewhere along the coast. Freetraders don’t hang around for long. They run the risk of being spotted by our patrolling vessels, or Preventive Officers scouting the coastline.’
‘So you think the handing over of this pearl necklace was the message Anderson was trying to get to you?’
‘Almost certainly. I’m not involved in the hunting down of spies. That is quite another gentleman’s department. And Anderson’s message was definitely for me—” The Kestrel”. However,’ he added, rising to his feet and helping Emily to do likewise, just as the Kempton church clock confirmed that a further hour had passed, ‘I think we must accept the fact that we’re not going to get our hands on the miscreants this time.’
Experiencing a mixture of disappointment because their vigil had proved fruitless, and relief that it was over at last and she could seek the warmth and comfort of her bed, Emily automatically followed Sebastian out of the wood. It didn’t occur to her that he was heading in an entirely different direction from the one by which she had arrived, until she discovered herself in a field where two horses were tethered to a fence and a very familiar, stocky individual stood guarding them.
‘What in the world are you doing here, Finn?’ she demanded to know, as they drew closer and she could see, even in the dim light, that his astonishment was no less marked than her own, though she managed to conceal hers rather better. Then she recalled the suspicion that had filtered through her mind the day before when Sebastian had addressed her groom by name. ‘Evidently you’re acquainted with his lordship, Finn. Just how well acquainted are you?’
He appeared unable to meet her gaze. ‘Well, I—er—I—’
‘Why don’t you go and collect your mistress’s horse, Finn,’ his lordship suggested before the groom’s tongue became too entangled in knots. He transferred his attention to Emily who was looking anything but pleased now. ‘I assume you did ride here and not walk?’
‘I left my mare over there.’ She gestured behind her. ‘In the next field.’
Finn needed no further prompting and swiftly mounted, leaving his lordship to soothe the ruffled feathers of a female who it had to be said was not always easily pacified.
‘You can stop glowering at me, you little termagant!’ his lordship ordered without preamble. Unfortunately the command lacked any real conviction owing to the fact that he was singularly unsuccessful in keeping his voice steady, and was quite unable to suppress a smile. ‘You didn’t honestly suppose that after watching you leave Hampshire in your grandfather’s carriage I would conveniently forget your very existence, not to mention break the promise I had made to your mother to take care of you?’
Emily turned away lest her expression betray the heartache this simple admission engendered. Even now, after almost five years, the pain never lessened whenever she began to dwell on the fact that the only reason he had been prepared to marry her was to fulfil the promise he had made to her mother. Oh, he was fond of her, right enough—anyone with a ha’p’orth of intelligence couldn’t fail to perceive that. But affection was no substitute for that most tender of emotions.
‘Be reasonable, Em,’ he coaxed, quite failing to appreciate that the tense set of slender shoulders might have stemmed from something other than pique. ‘I couldn’t just leave you in your grandfather’s care. He would never have maintained a proper guard over you.’
‘So you employed Finn to do the job, to spy on me!’ she snapped, sounding genuinely miffed, and to a certain extent she was. ‘Exactly whose servant is he—yours or my grandfather’s?’
‘He’s yours, Emily,’ Sebastian corrected. ‘And he’s devoted to you. You know that.’ Grasping her shoulders, he gave her no choice but to turn and face him squarely. ‘Yes, it was I who acquired his services initially, and sent him down here. But he has your best interests at heart, not mine. He merely agreed to help to keep a lookout in this section of woodland tonight.’
She might have been generous enough to acknowledge the truth of this if something else hadn’t suddenly occurred to her which added substantially to her annoyance and which enabled her to ignore the continued touch of those shapely hands on her upper arms. ‘And I suppose it is you I have to thank for putting that ridiculous notion into Grandpapa’s head about engaging the services of a duenna?”
He had the grace to look a little shamefaced. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I thought you might like some feminine companionship, although I did not press the issue when your grandfather wrote and told me you were set against the idea. I could understand that you’d not take too kindly to being chaperoned, after years of relative freedom. But as I’d made that