Chapter Thirty-Four

"Good morning, Mr. King ," Tess teased drily as Harry sauntered into the King & Co. offices the next morning, looking as handsome as ever, and bringing a waft of cedar-scented air with him. "Would you like some tea?"

He sent her a charming smile. "That would be lovely, thank you."

Ellie rolled her eyes as Tess poured him a cup and added milk. Had she forgotten he was a scoundrel? And possibly a shameless liar, as well?

He could still be lying about being the lost earl. She felt a little stab of remorse for continuing to doubt him, but her job was to doubt things until sufficient evidence had been provided to ascertain the truth.

"Tess and I just returned the Book of Hours to Mr. Bullock," she said, sliding behind her desk.

Harry leaned against the edge of it, and took a sip of tea. "Was he annoyed by the damage?"

"He didn't react half as badly as I thought he might," Ellie conceded. "I'd removed the shot, and pressed the gold back into shape a little from the inside. None of the jewels had been broken, and when I explained how it had been dented, he became almost giddy."

"He actually laughed ," Tess said. "He said he was never one to let the facts get in the way of a good story, and that he liked the book even better now. He's going to put it back on display exactly as it is, and tell everyone the shot that made the hole was fired at Napoleon himself!"

Harry shook his head. "See how the truth can get distorted? You can't believe everything you hear."

He glanced over at Daisy, who was using a cotton cloth to apply a thin layer of oil to the blade she'd received at Hyde Park, and whistled in admiration.

"That is an impressive weapon. I'm quite jealous."

Daisy grinned. "Isn't it? I've been doing a little research, and this type of blade is more common in Italy than here. They call it a cinquedea , which means ‘five fingers,' because that's the width of the blade here at the base, next to the guard." She pointed to the fattest part of the lethal-looking blade.

Harry nodded. "I've encountered a couple of those myself, on my travels. It's basically a long dagger. See how the leather scabbard has a loop on it? That's for attaching to your belt, at the back, horizontally. That way, you can easily draw it with your right hand. It's designed for close combat and self-defense."

Daisy looked delighted. "I've persuaded a friend of Devlin's to give me some extra lessons with it. I'm not bad with a rapier, but I need to practice my knife skills."

Harry made a face. "As if you weren't terrifying enough."

Daisy chuckled at the compliment.

Harry turned back to Ellie. "Have you shown them our spoils from last night?"

"Not yet." She slid open the drawer in her desk and held the blue stone up to the light.

It was impossible not to appreciate the beauty of it. The angled facets made it sparkle, and the pale blue color reminded her of the sky in springtime.

"Pretty," Tess murmured. "Let's hope it's real, and the one Rundell's been looking for. I'll invite him to come and inspect it for himself."

Harry took another sip of tea. "So, now that I've paid your fee, how do you mean to prove my identity?"

"We need more information," Ellie said. "We'd like to talk to Hugo, since he's known you the longest. He might be able to tell us something that will help the investigation. How is he feeling?"

"I had Dr. Wilson come and look at him. He really did damage a couple of ribs wrestling with Sofia in the park. He's been told to rest and not do anything strenuous, but he's certainly up to receiving visitors. He's driving me mad, he's so bored."

Ellie started to rise. "In that case—"

"I need to get something, first," Harry said.

He glanced at the basil plant she'd relegated to the corner of the room. "I'm glad to see you've been taking care of my gift. Do you remember I told you it's supposed to bring good luck and ward off poverty?"

"It's brought us Bullock's five hundred pounds." Tess smiled. "And that aquamarine. So maybe there's something to that superstition."

Harry put down his teacup and rounded the desk. "I meant it in a more literal sense."

He picked up the plant pot and placed it directly in front of Ellie. "I apologize in advance for the mess."

He grasped the basil at the bottom of its stalks, and pulled the entire plant out of the pot, raining soil and roots all over her green leather desktop.

"What are you doing, you madman?" Ellie shrieked.

He laid the plant gently down on the surface, careful not to crush the leaves, and reached into the bottom of the pot, rummaging through the remaining soil with his fingers. A moment later, he withdrew a glittering gold object.

Ellie glared at him. "What's that?"

He held it out for her to inspect. It was a man's signet ring, the flat top engraved with a crest she'd seen a dozen times on the door of his carriage. Three lions rampant on a shield with a chevron.

"The Cobham family seal. It belonged to my father."

Ellie almost sent him a commiserating look, but stopped short. She was almost certain that he wasn't acting—that he truly was the Earl of Cobham—but the investigator in her still wanted proof. He could still have stolen it from the real earl, or had a plain ring inscribed by a jeweler.

"You hid your family ring here , in our office?"

He sent her a cheeky grin, amused at her irritation. "The safest places are those where nobody would think to look."

"That was incredibly risky. What if I'd killed the plant? What if I'd thrown it on the compost heap, pot and all?"

His eyes twinkled. "I suppose I would have had to go digging around in the tea leaves and the potato peelings. But I had faith in your ability to keep it alive. You're extremely conscientious."

He slipped the ring into his pocket, then made a terrible job of trying to sweep the mess back into the pot and replanting the poor, abused basil into the soil.

Ellie pushed his hands away. "Leave it. I'll clean it up later. Let's go and speak to Hugo."