Chapter Twenty-Six

R adiance read the note, turned it over, saw nothing else, turned it back, and read it again.

How dare he?

Edward was shutting her out of the Queen’s appointed task. Two things struck her — he still hadn’t acknowledged her words of admiration, nor had he shared the footman’s name.

The two were linked. He no longer wanted her to be part of the search for the thief because she had stupidly disclosed her feelings. Clearly, Edward didn’t return them in kind, and thus thought it best to slip away ... like a weasel!

He had forgotten the freedom and independence her parents afforded her. She could go to Edward’s home that instant and demand to remain part of the investigation.

Finding herself pacing her room, Radiance halted, staring at the two windows overlooking the back of her home. A familiar pattern of six large panes over six. Recently, she’d had an idea for a brooch which recreated the same, using table-cut golden topazes in place of flat glass and gold between the gems to mimic the muntins.

Her feet carried her toward one of the windows. Beyond was a small garden, a hedge, and the mews. Edward had stood in the moonlight and said he was impressed by her. Radiance had been sure she could float on clouds.

Curse the man for his perfect kisses and how he had made her feel.

She would make the brooch with beautiful blue spinels so as not to be reminded of his glorious eyes. And if he didn’t want to be near her, then she would happily keep her distance. After what she’d said in Purity’s library — she could only pray his memory wasn’t as good as her own. Horrified, she recalled telling him how she yearned and thought of him all the time. Like a moonstruck fool!

Sitting heavily upon her bed, Radiance let abject misery nearly overwhelm her. Knowing that Edward didn’t reciprocate her feelings settled like a bag of rocks in her stomach. The last thing she should do was force herself upon him. It would be torturous. Without doubt, her cheeks would heat every time they were near one another, and if she inadvertently gazed at him longingly ... the humiliation!

Allowing him to push her away was easier all around.

But what about the Queen’s task? She could not simply abandon it. Moreover, what had been bothering her about their discussion with Mr. Minton had finally come to her in the night. His blunder in saying the wrong Lord Chamberlain’s name was important. Just as Sir Biddulph indicated that some people thought his predecessor was still the Master of the Household, what if the thief mistook the wrong Lord Chamberlain?

Why else would Mr. Minton think Breadalbane still held the post, especially if a footman had actually come from Exeter’s office?

With that, she decided to pay Mr. Minton another visit, this time by herself. The following day, with Sarah at her side and one of her father’s footmen for protection, she entered Newgate, spoke with the warder, and was led into the same small room.

“Oh, it’s you,” Mr. Minton said when he was brought in.

“How are you faring?” she asked, not taking offense from his lukewarm welcome. Suddenly, she had an inspired idea. “Would you like me to visit your wife? Perhaps I can offer her some comfort.”

Radiance watched him carefully. If he were guilty, he would probably stave her off. He didn’t. He sniffed and nodded.

“How kind of you, my lady. Is that why you came?”

“No, sir. I recalled you said Lord Breadalbane was the Lord Chamberlain.”

“Isn’t he?”

“Lord Exeter took over the post recently.”

Mr. Minton shrugged. “Be that as it may, the footman who collected the brooch said he came from the Lord Chamberlain’s office, and he had a warrant with Breadalbane’s signature.”

Radiance puffed out her cheeks, then released them. “Very curious, wouldn’t you say?”

He seemed uninterested, staring past her to the wall. “I used to work for Rundell and Bridge, you know. They were never called the Crown Jeweler, as Mr. Garrard is, but they were named the Principal Royal Goldsmiths & Jewelers in 1804, which sounded very fine when I learned that as a youth. I knew I wanted to work for them.”

“Yes, sir, a fine jewelry company,” she agreed, “but about the footman —”

“It makes sense the Queen would make Mr. Garrard the first official Crown Jeweler since he made her engagement ring. But anyone you ask would say that Rundell and Bridge were also Crown Jewelers, including Mr. Rundell and Mr. Bridge themselves.” He stared at his gnarled hands.

Before she could ask the important question again, he added, “Before them, the Royal Jeweler was Philip Gilbert, although he wasn’t called it officially, and before him, it was William Jones of Jefferys and Jones. Which was also where Mr. Gilbert worked but by then it was Jefferys, Jones, and Gilbert.”

He nodded his head as he sorted it out to his own satisfaction, although Radiance was growing frustrated and confused. Then he added, “You know, the jewelers’ community in London is a small one.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. So, Mr. Garrard gave you the brooch to work on, and Lord Exeter’s footman collected it from you?”

“Don’t be daft, my lady. Lord Breadalbane’s footman, as I said.”

“That is impossible,” she said. “He is no longer the Lord Chamberlain of the Household.”

“Nevertheless,” Mr. Minton said, utterly unconcerned. He shrugged again. “Bridges and Rundell were a force when I started there. They once made twenty-two of the most exquisite little snuff-boxes, a thousand guineas a piece, for diplomats after the Congress of Vienna.”

“Did they?” she asked, deciding she would have to let him ramble on.

“That was my first year with them. But they are better known for creating the Irish Crown Jewels.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, having read about most of the royal jewels over the past year.

“Can you believe the English let nearly four hundred gemstones be taken to make the new Irish Crown Jewels, right from Old King George and Queen Charlotte’s own pieces. Now that Keeper of the Jewels, as he was called back then, ought to have been beheaded.”

Radiance wouldn’t ask, but undoubtedly, Mr. Minton knew that individual, as well.

Regardless, he shook his head emphatically. “I can tell you a story —”

“Please, sir,” Radiance interrupted, fearing if she didn’t, she would soon be discussing who made the first coronation scepter or some obscure crown belonging to Queen Elizabeth I. “Do you think the warrant from the Lord Chamberlain still exists?”

“Unlikely. Just a scrap of paper that was probably cleared off my worktable.” His tone was bitter, and who could blame him?

Then she recalled her gifts. From her right skirt pocket, she withdrew a small paper sack, set it on the table, then added another from her left. Pushing them toward Mr. Minton, Radiance hoped to cheer him, although clearly, he felt betrayed by an industry he had served and loved.

Cautiously, he peered into the first bag, and then a smile broke over his face. He looked a decade younger.

“You remembered,” he said, his eyes dancing as he popped a small black licorice Pontefract cake into his mouth. “Then the other must be lokum.”

Sure enough, Radiance had stopped at the shop dedicated to Turkish Delight as many were now calling it.

“One last question, sir. When the brooch was in your possession, are you certain the stones were all authentic?”

He was still chewing when he looked at her with clear eyes and nodded. “Absolutely certain, my lady. As sure as I’m sitting here with you.”

“Then if the gem was switched, as the Crown Jeweler stated a month later, perhaps the individual who collected it was the thief.”

Radiance rose to her feet. More than ever, she wanted the chance to speak with the footman.

“Will you come again?” He shoved a piece of sweet, chewy lokum into his mouth.

She thought there was every chance Mr. Minton would be released, but she hated to give him false hope. Thus, Radiance made the only promise she could.

“I shall return if the warder will let me.”

For half a week, she still hoped Edward would contact her. For the remainder of the week, Radiance knew if he did, she would not respond. Regardless, direct correspondence with Sir Biddulph yielded the information that he’d already given Edward.

The footman who collected the coronet from the House of Neble was a man named Bob Draper. A long-time member of Buckingham Palace’s staff as was his father before him, no one suspected him of anything. Even Radiance. And she thought she had as good a sense for guilt as she had for innocence.

However, to her amazement, there was no second footman! Neither Mr. Draper nor anyone else had been sent to Garrard’s shop since it was assumed the Crown Jeweler would return the brooch to the Queen.

Radiance was granted access to the Duchess of Atholl, Her Majesty’s Mistress of the Robes, who had accepted the brooch from a Palace footman. He, in turn, had received it at the west portico from a messenger who said he was sent by Mr. Garrard.

She had milked the pigeon, as her father would say — absolutely failing to learn anything of usefulness. Moreover, she knew Edward had been no more successful.

The blasted geologist — as she now thought of him — could take a leap off London Bridge for all she cared.

“Have you chosen your gown?” her mother asked when Radiance wandered into the drawing room for a cup of tea.

“Whatever for?”

“The charity ball at Syon House for the Shipwrecked Fishermen and Mariners' Royal Benevolent Society.”

What a name! What a nuisance! Radiance sat down in a huff.

“Tonight? It had slipped my mind.”

“They need more lifeboats,” her mother reminded her, “at Lytham, Newhaven, Hornsea, and many other places that, sadly, I have forgotten.” Lady Diamond sipped her tea. “Luckily, the Society hasn’t forgotten, and tonight’s charitable event will do them very nicely indeed.”

Thus, Radiance was attending her first social event since spilling her secret sentiments to Edward. She was determined to enjoy herself regardless. Moreover, she would try not to watch for him, nor miss him when he didn’t show up. After all, it wasn’t his world. Geologists didn’t regularly go to opulent balls, and he’d said he had no events to attend all year.

Once at Syon House, on the banks of the Thames, however, she was hard pressed to keep her head from swiveling side to side. At least for the first quarter of an hour. Then, as she walked across the marble floor beside her mother, Radiance spied Lord Castille. The viscount nodded in acknowledgment, and she began to think about which of the many gentlemen she would honor with a dance.

“Isn’t that your geologist friend?” her mother asked.

Radiance nearly tripped over her own slippers. “Where? No, I doubt it.” Her heartbeat sped up immediately, but she refused to even glance in the direction her mother was looking.

To cover her discomfort, Radiance walked boldly toward Lord Castille when she ought to have let him come to her. Her mother hurried to catch up.

“Good evening,” he greeted, first to the Countess Diamond and then to Radiance.

After pleasant but brief prattle, she had secured his name on her dance card, and then as was the custom, he moved on to another young lady. But Radiance didn’t want to stand still, feeling exposed and dreading her first contact with Edward — if her mother had been correct.

Thus, she approached another man whom she knew and granted him a dance. Lady Diamond had scarcely reached them when Radiance was about to hasten forth again.

“You are eager to arrange your partners tonight,” her mother remarked.

“Yes,” Radiance muttered, keeping her head down. Another man approached to request the honor of a dance, and she graciously accepted.

As they continued their tour of the room, her mother glanced sideways at her. “I am surprised by that last partner.”

“Really,” Radiance asked, finally looking up and almost at once seeing Edward a mere ten feet away. Her skin grew clammy under the silk of her dress and her cotton shift. “Why?”

“You once said you disliked that man greatly, not only for how he stared down your décolletage but also trod upon your feet through an entire polka.”

Radiance gasped and looked down at the card dangling from her wrist. Lord Weighland!

“Mother! Why did you let me?”

“What on earth can you mean? I would no more get in the way of whom you wish to dance with than I would fly about the room with a candle clenched between my teeth. You are behaving strangely tonight. Never mind, here comes Mr. Lockwood.”

Radiance froze, catching her breath momentarily and not releasing it as her gaze fell to the floor. She wasn’t ready for this, for seeing him again now that her heart was shattered. Blast!

Managing to stop herself from smoothing the front of her vibrant green gown with nervousness, fearful she’d leave stains from her damp palms, she took a deep breath to refill her starving lungs. After making certain her expression was serene, with a passable placid smile, she raised her head and looked directly at him.

He was ... the same. Not an ogre as she’d started to imagine, almost wishing he was. It might have been easier.

Instead, he looked impeccable, as finely dressed as any peer of the realm in a black tailcoat, charcoal trousers and waistcoat, and a dove-gray necktie. His gaze flickered over her from head to toe, making her skin prickle.

“Good evening,” they said at the same time.

“My apologies for speaking over you,” he said.

Radiance was caught in his golden-brown gaze and had no words beyond sadness or anger.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Lady Diamond intervened into the awkward silence.

“Indeed,” Radiance snapped, knowing this marked the end of her equanimity for the evening. “What an unanticipated place to encounter you , Mr. Lockwood. Of all people.”

Her mother gave her a look that Purity had inherited, perfectly expressing her dislike of her daughter’s tone and words.

Radiance didn’t wish to embarrass her and relented.

“That is, I know a ball is not your usual activity. And tonight shall prove to be a long one.” Even longer now that she had to dance with Lord Weighland while keeping her emotions in check over her indifferent geologist.

“You are correct,” he said politely. “Usually, you wouldn’t find me at such a gala, but I am escorting my sister who has had a taste of society recently and finds it to her liking.”

“Whereas you do not?” the countess asked.

“I would prefer to be in my workroom.”

“There is a time to study gems and a time to dance,” Lady Diamond said. “For what is the point of working if you cannot also enjoy the more amusing parts of life?”

They lapsed into silence. Edward might not be the most polished gentleman, but even he knew he ought to ask Radiance for the honor of a dance.

Lady Diamond tried to encourage him. “I believe my daughter has a few spaces left on her dance card.”

His hesitation was devastating. What’s more, it was mortifying, not to mention invoking her mother’s blatant curiosity. Radiance had no choice but to hand him her card and pencil, glad for their gloves as the slimmest of barriers when their fingers brushed.

As soon as Edward had written in his name, tipped his hat, and walked away, her mother rounded on her.

“What is going on between you and that young man?”

Radiance rolled her eyes. “Obviously nothing. He doesn’t even wish to dance with me. I cannot believe you all but bullied him into it.”

“I thought he was merely being shy.”

“A horse’s arse, more like,” Radiance muttered.

The countess gave a little shrug. “I do not understand you. Do you like Mr. Lockwood?”

“Mother!”

Lady Diamond rolled her eyes exactly as Radiance had done. “If you want him, then speak plainly.”

“I did. To him! And this,” she gestured toward his retreating back, “is the result.”

“Oh!” Her mother frowned, then looked where the tall geologist had rejoined his sister who was laughing in a group of other guests.

“How strange! It cannot be true that he doesn’t reciprocate your admiration. I mean, look at you.” Since she and her mother were as alike as two peas in a pod, Radiance couldn’t help but offer a genuine smile. Everyone thought the Countess Diamond beautiful, after all.

“But then beyond your looks,” her mother continued, “you have a brain, a sense of humor, clever thoughts. And you’re simply good fun. What’s wrong with the man?”

Radiance sighed. “That’s what I have been wondering.”

“Dance with him,” her mother said.

“I have to,” she reminded her. “I accepted his name upon my card.”

“Yes, dance with him and be your usual radiant self but be aloof. Not cold, nor strange. Be yourself but without any welcome. You will soon see if he’s interested. Maybe he simply likes fox hunting.”

“I don’t understand,” Radiance said. What had his sporting interests to do with dancing?

The countess nodded to a passing friend, then spoke again. “Dearest daughter, some men are put off by women who fall too easily. They want to feel as if they’ve earned your affection. They wish to give chase and catch you, like a tricky fox hunt, rather than have you land in their lap.”

“Like a ... ?” Radiance prompted.

Her mother halted and considered. “Like a luscious dove or a purring cat.”

“Very clever,” Radiance said. “I see what you mean.”