The Debonair Duke (5 page)

“It is a glorious day, and I wish to ride in the park after I finish my chocolate. I shall want my blue habit today, please,” Pamela requested with her usual courtesy. She had observed that those who were rude to servants generally received very poor service. She did not approve of uncivil treatment of those who worked for another; her tender heart would not tolerate such when she was around.

“Yes, milady,” Rose softly replied, promptly going about her business, opening the blue-and-white chintz draperies, seeing to it that Pamela had all she needed before straightening the bedcovers and bringing forth the desired riding habit.

Pamela, ensconced on a plump-cushioned chair with a fat ottoman for her feet, thought it very much nicer than her bed and resolved to be up for chocolate from now on.

Once dressed, the image reflected in her mirror almost satisfied. The habit’s rich blue contrasted nicely with the crisp white of her habit shirt, the collar of which peeped over the top of her one-piece habit. The skirt completely concealed her pink drawers; she trusted it would remain so. She had escaped disgrace yesterday. Today she might not be so lucky. One did not wish to have one’s pink drawers exposed, no matter what! Not that she expected to have her habit reveal more than a glimpse of stocking above her half boots, but…accidents did happen.

The jaunty little beaver hat trimmed with a stiff little plume called an esprit sat neatly on her curls. She studied the effect while drawing on her York tan gloves. She would do. She would have to do, not that His Grace would pay much attention to her. It was the necklace that would attract his eyes, and she had better remember that!

She almost forgot to take the note from J.R. and hastily tucked it up inside of her cuff while Rose’s back was turned. She hoped the fit was sufficiently snug that the important note would not fall out. It appeared to be adequate and she would be careful.

When she picked up the paper-wrapped leather case, Rose gave her a questioning look. Pamela returned it with what she hoped was a confident nod, then left her room. Her half boots most thankfully made little sound on the stairs as she made her way to the front door. Grimes was elsewhere on his morning duties, and she was able to slip from the house with only Rose being the wiser.

Timson was in front with her pretty little mare
,
Star, alerted by a note sent down last evening that his mistress would ride out a trifle earlier this morning. Deciding it was useless to attempt to mount her horse while clutching both crop and box in hand, she gave the box to her groom, then mounted. After accepting the crop and the leather case, she rode off ahead of him. He fell in easily behind her.

Still undecided how best to order the groom to keep his distance, she mulled over the matter all the way to the park. A glance at the little watch pinned to her habit
—another point of departure from her norm—she noted that she was properly on schedule. She respected time. She also expected others to be punctual as well. She had a hunch that the duke would be there promptly—and be surprised that she joined him right on the dot of nine.

A delighted chuckle escaped when she saw the duke
—unmistakable, even at a distance—riding across the park in her direction. She’d been correct.

He was no less awesome this morning than the previous day. In riding garb, he possessed that casual magnificence so desired by gentlemen and so rarely obtained. His dark gray coat over a pale gray waistcoat of pure simplicity was above dark leather riding breeches and, by their shine, his Hessians indicated a devoted polishing. Indeed, she thought, the entire man was flawless as was his gray stallion.

The matter of Timson was neatly solved. Apparently, there was not a groom in London who did not know the duke’s identity. When the duke approached, Timson doffed his hat, then respectfully kept his distance when he saw the eminent gentleman intended to have a word with his mistress. By the smug expression on Timson’s face, Pamela guessed he would be desirous of sharing this delicious news with the staff
—something she must prevent at all costs.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Pamela said with her pleasant manners firmly in place.

“It is, isn’t it? You are quite on time, Lady Pamela. You are to be commended on your promptness. Would that my sisters might learn that lesson from you.”

He smiled at her in shared amusement, and Pamela thought his smile the sort that could positively melt your insides to a puddle.

“Your Grace,” Pamela said quietly. “I am pleased that you decided to accept my request for a meeting. How clever of you to think we might meet here with so little difficulty.”

“Most logical, I believe,” he replied. “Now, tell me about your mystery
.
”

“Of course,” She held up the parcel, wrapped much as it had been when delivered. “This package was delivered to me the day before yesterday. It was morning, just after my parents had left for the day.” She moved Star closer to where the duke sat on his impressive gray and handed the case to him, then continued, “That is precisely how it was wrapped. As you can see, there is no writing on it. The man who delivered it said it was for Lady Pamela. When I opened it, I saw what you will see now.”

He pulled the case from the wrapping and flipped open the leather case after undoing the catch. She could hear his indrawn breath in spite of their distance, the creaking of leather, and the distant sounds of the city.

“Good heavens!”

“Scarcely the thing for a young unmarried lady, is it?”

“Undoubtedly, intended for a not-so-young lady who is less than proper, more likely,” he said quietly, studying the jewels. Casting a glance at Timson and seeing that he was watching some dogs playing tag, the duke lifted the necklace from its bed of velvet and held it up to the morning sun. Squinting, he commented, “Outstanding quality, from what I can tell. The setting is exquisite.”

“The problem is that I can’t imagine why they were sent to me. Note there is no direction on the wrapping, which you must admit is rather curious. They
must
have been misdelivered, although my name is indeed Pamela. But I do not know anyone whose initials are J.R.”

“J.R.? What is this?” he said in confusion.

“I forgot, there was a note as well.” She pulled the note from where she had tucked it up her sleeve and handed it across to him.

He read it aloud. When he reached the final words, he glanced up at her and repeated them. “My dearest? That implies intimacy with the gentleman.”

Pamela could feel the heat burn in her cheeks and knew she must be blushing. “That is quite impossible for me, as you might guess.”

“Undoubtedly.” Robert watched the proper young woman who so bravely sought this clandestine meeting with a stranger. She blushed a delicate wild rose. The extra bloom in her cheeks made her rather pretty
—perhaps more than pretty, he decided. As observed yesterday, she had lovely manners yet was not afraid to step from the accepted mold, witness her thrusting her parasol out to assist him and Algie to shore. His youngest sister would have screamed and fainted. And now this—her calm assessment of a mysterious package containing a small fortune in jewels.

He looked at the jewels resting on the cream velvet and briefly wondered what the sapphires would look like against her pale skin. Then he turned his attention to the matter at hand.

“What is it you wish me to do for you? I fancy I know any number of men whose initials are J.R. What about the name Pamela?” He watched her struggle with her memory.

“I have thought and thought, and confess that I do not know quite how to solve that, even if I found her
—and I suspect there are many. As well, I cannot go to Bow Street by myself to see if a necklace such as this has been reported stolen. I suppose it is possible that the necklace was commissioned from a jewelers. Yet I am loath to probe into that, not wishing to inquire at numerous jewelers regarding a sapphire necklace. Can you imagine if word of such a thing reached the patronesses?”

“You fear being cut from Almack’s?” That was a ridiculous question; admission to that holy of holies of society was something for which every young woman making her come-out prayed. It said much for Lady Pamela that she had attained such lofty status and intended not to jeopardize it.

“I do not mind so much,” she replied, surprising the duke exceedingly. “But Mama would be utterly wretched were something of that sort to happen. She sets great store by propriety, and means for me to make a proper marriage. One can scarcely accomplish that without admission to Almack’s.”

“You are not promised, I take it? No tacit understanding or anything of that sort?” Had she a serious beau, she ought to have consulted him, unless she found him either a nodcock or trusted Robert more. He found the latter thought far more pleasing.

She blushed again. “No. I am not betrothed, nor is there an understanding of any kind.” She dropped her gaze to the reins in her hand, then added, “I fear I have not taken, precisely. Mama scolds, but that changes nothing,” she concluded in a rush and looked as though she regretted her hasty words immediately. He had observed more than once that people tended to confide things in him that they might not in another. He’d never been able to account for it, and now it had happened once again.

“Just wondered. I’d not like to accept your commission, then find some chap is about to run me through in a total misunderstanding of the matter.” He raised his brows with a rueful grimace, exchanging looks with her clear blue eyes. She seemed a most self-possessed young woman.

She smiled at his words, accepting the absurdity of them. Her blush subsided, and Robert wondered what he might say to bring that delightful bloom back to her cheeks again.

“Let’s see,” he said by way of winding things up. Her groom could be expected to linger in the distance just so much longer. “Why do you not retain possession of the necklace, at least for the present? Where have you been keeping it thus far?”

“On my bookshelf, for that box resembles a thin book. I do not know where else to put it unless it could go in the bottom of a hatbox. ‘Tis a fearful responsibility. I’d feel better were they in Papa’s new safe.”

“I expect so. However, we cannot talk any longer here. Others may come soon. I’ve been trying to think where we might meet again. We need to plan our strategy, and that is best done together
.
”

She blushed again, and Robert congratulated himself on obtaining what he wished. She really was a pretty little thing. He liked the way those soft brown curls feathered around her hat. He also approved of her excellent seat on her mare. She’d been well taught. That habit flattered her figure nicely, too, particularly that generous bosom she was blessed with. Nice, indeed.

“You met Lady Anne Radcliffe yesterday, I believe. I think we could borrow their library when necessary. We would have to allow them in on the secret?” He searched her face for a clue to her inner feelings regarding the Radcliffes.

“I feel certain that if
you
trust them, it would be most acceptable. I quite liked Lady Anne when we chatted, and I should enjoy meeting her again.” Lady Pamela smiled, a genuine smile of delight, if he was any judge.

“Perhaps you could take your maid for a walk this afternoon at the time when all the world and his wife descend upon the park? I could endeavor to meet you, let you know if our plan is acceptable. That would eliminate the need for another note.”

Her blush deepened, and she said with a mere hint of an excuse in her voice, “I had no other way of reaching you, Your Grace. It is most difficult for a proper young lady in a case like this.”

“Do not worry,” he assured her, “you have not put your propriety in peril. I shall see you this afternoon, my lady.” He tipped his hat and rode off toward the park gate.

Pamela’s satisfied gaze followed his retreating figure. Jumping slightly when Timson rode up to join her, she glanced at the groom, then said, “Mind you, not a word of this to anyone. I’ll not be the object of gossip. His Grace and I met yesterday, and I wished to consult him about something. There is nothing more to it.” More’s the pity, she added silently.

The groom looked knowing, but simply nodded his head and then discreetly followed his mistress at a proper distance for the remainder of her uneventful ride.

* * * *

Knowing that the Radcliffes would not be receiving anyone at this hour, Robert set off toward Bow Street. Lady Pamela had made an excellent point regarding the Bow Street Runners. She could scarcely venture into their domain on her own to inquire about jewelry that might be missing.

Inside the building all was chaos. The magistrate court was in session, and people of every description came and went. He took care to mind his purse, for thieves were as common as grass in these parts. He finally waylaid a clerk. “I wish to know if a particular piece of jewelry has been reported stolen.”

“Well, Your Grace, we do have a list,” the gentleman said with all possible deference once Robert had identified himself, “but there be upwards of three thousand receivers of stolen goods in the city alone. There are countless more in other towns where items can be sold. I can show you our list if you like, but there is little chance of recovering a piece of jewelry once it’s gone. If you wish, I can give you a list of likely fences where you might find the piece.”

Led to a small, quiet chamber, Robert scanned the several-page list of stolen items the clerk offered him to read. There was an incredible collection of jewels missing he had not heard about in the papers or elsewhere. Curious. However, nowhere could he find a description of the sapphire-and-diamond necklace now tucked between a couple of books in Lady Pamela’s bedroom.

“Thank you, what I seek is not on the list. Perhaps I shall have better luck elsewhere.”

The clerk gave him a puzzled look, indicating that he doubted if anyone could retrieve a piece of stolen jewelry unless he hired a man to search out the particular item. That usually involved hiring an ex-thief
—who might still be one when he felt like it—who was willing to locate the stolen item for a fee. It was suspected that in many cases, the thief turned in an item that he, himself, had first stolen in order to receive a reward more generous than he could fetch from a fence.