The Genuine Article (26 page)

Charles whistled. "We'd best call the watch, then. He'll remember where they are once he's spent a night in Newgate."

Reginald frowned. "No, let him think we're fooled. He could have hidden those stones anywhere. He could have sold them already. We have no proof of anything. I still firmly believe he's working with Effingham. I want to catch him at it."

"I don't know how you plan to do that." Puzzled, Charles looked at the necklace for himself. He could see no difference between the glittering bits.

Feeling quite weary and more than out of sorts, Reginald gestured dismissively. "I don't know yet either, but I will find a way. Take the damned thing with you. I'll not give the scoundrel another chance at it."

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Wait. I'll have to take it back to Marian." He had cost her the advantageous marriage with Darley; he would not take away her only other alternative. He wondered if she would use the return of the necklace to call off their betrothal. His head ached too much to think about the pain that thought engendered.

Charles slid the necklace into his pocket. "I'll be around to get you tomorrow. We'll go to see the ladies together. If they are going to the ball, they will be back then. It always takes ladies days to prepare for an occasion like that."

Not Marian, Reginald knew, but he didn't say it aloud. He wanted to say that Marian was different. Marian didn't waste time primping and painting and adorning herself and deciding between this ribbon and that. Marian would be plotting to wring O'Toole's neck or to sell the Effingham library or to find her sister a husband.

Marian wasn't like any other lady he knew, but Charles wouldn't appreciate her finer qualities. Reginald kept them to himself.

He just nodded in agreement and watched his brother leave with the necklace in his pocket.

He didn't even have to yell for O'Toole before the ever-efficient valet arrived to help him remove his coat. At least the thieving bastard had the sense to hold his tongue.

* * *

When the butler entered the London parlor to inform Marian that Mr. Montague and Lord Witham were below, she almost panicked—not because she couldn't remember any Lord Witham, but because she feared Mr. Montague had come to beg out of their betrothal. Having had a day or two to reconsider, he might have realized what a bad arrangement he had made.

Surely he wouldn't do anything like that in front of another man. A Lord somebody-or-another wouldn't be a solicitor. Reginald had just brought a friend to lend him support since he and Darley were no longer speaking. She would have to find some way to repair that damage.

Since Jessica and Lady Grace were still recuperating from their journey, Marian called Lily to act as chaperone and waited nervously for the gentlemen. Her gaze traveled instantly to Mr. Montague when he entered.

He looked splendid in his chocolate-brown frock coat and fawn trousers with his Hessians polished to a high shine, but there was a smudge of color under his eyes and a crease upon his brow that spoke of an uneasy night. Her heart lurched when he bent over her hand.

"You do not look as if you slept well, sir," she murmured, for his ears alone, as he straightened.

A trace of a familiar wicked smile touched his lips. "I thought only of you while you were gone."

That was the Montague she knew. With a blush, Marian jerked her hand away and turned her interest to his guest. He was distinguished looking, and there was a trace of something familiar in his face. She tried not to stare too boldly.

"Lady Marian, may I introduce my brother, Charles? Charles, my betrothed."

Of course, she had forgotten. Mr. Montague was the son of an earl, but not the heir. It stood to reason that he had an older brother. She just hadn't considered his family, since he seldom spoke of them. She tried not to bite her lip as the viscount bowed over her hand. He really was quite formidably dignified. She felt like a schoolroom miss.

"My pleasure, sir," she said, wishing her mother were here to help. Darley was a viscount, but he hadn't made her nervous as this man did. For all that mattered, her cousin was a marquess, but he didn't have the kind of presence that demanded respect and dignity. Marian sent a helpless look to Mr. Montague.

Reginald took a seat beside her and propped his arm along the back of the sofa as if he belonged here and as if she belonged to him. Which she did, she admitted uneasily. She had given him every right to think of her as his.

He crossed one booted leg over the other and watched his brother settle into a chair across from them. Marian very much thought her betrothed was hiding a grin that probably deserved an elbow to the ribs, but she played the demure miss as well as she could.

"I'm glad to have this opportunity to meet some of Mr. Montague's family, sir. He speaks of you often." She kept her eyes modestly on the rug between them.

Charles lifted a doubting gaze in his brother's direction. "Why do I find that hard to believe? Reggie would prefer to behave as if we don't exist except when it pleases him."

Reginald caressed a curl at the back of Marian's neck and leaned familiarly toward her. "Hadn't you ought to call me by name now, my dear? We would not wish to give my brother the wrong impression."

He was laughing at her, she could tell. He knew she was putting on the same act for his brother as she had these past weeks for all society. She really ought to open her mouth and let out all those things she really wished to say, but she wouldn't jeopardize her chances another time. And he knew it, the dastardly toad.

She turned a sweetly admiring smile in his direction. "I didn't wish your brother to think me too familiar, Reginald. I am sure Lord Witham is much too proper to behave as you do."

Charles chuckled. "I think I am beginning to see the attraction, Reggie. All these years you've been cleverly ripping people to pieces in front of their faces without their ever knowing, and now you've found a female with as much wit as you. You needn't be polite for my sake. Lady Marian. The rogue needs to be taken down a peg or two, and that's a fact."

Marian turned a real smile to her guest. "Would you care for some tea, my lord? We could discuss your brother's faults over scones, if you'd like." With a nod, she sent Lily to fetch the tray.

Reginald growled at the insult and tugged on the curl in his possession, but when the maid was gone, his voice was pleasant. "We have a surprise for you, my dear. Charles, the necklace, if you will."

The viscount stood and presented her with a velvet pouch. He seemed to be watching her curiously, but she forgot that as she opened the pouch and saw the glitter of her ruby. She gave a cry of delight and drew the necklace through her fingers. "My mother's necklace! You have found it. Where? Did you catch the thief?" She turned excitedly to Reginald.

He smiled at her excitement, admiring the way light in her eyes danced. He also liked the way she automatically assumed he was the one responsible for returning the jewel, even though it was his brother who had presented it to her. He could do worse than Lady Marian Lawrence, Reginald decided. If one had to have a wife, it ought to be one who believed in one's worth.

His smile disappeared as he answered. "O'Toole returned last night with some story about finding it in my coat pocket. You and I know that the necklace in my pocket was the copy, but I have no proof of his guilt." He hesitated, wondering if he ought to mention the missing diamonds. If the marquess was involved, it would disturb family relations. But if she discovered they were fakes, she might blame him for the theft. He glanced to Charles for advice.

Charles shook his head. "We have no way of knowing who was responsible for the theft. You'd best give the lady the whole truth. Since the necklace was in your hands at the time, I think we can safely offer to replace the missing pieces."

Marian glanced questioningly back and forth.

Reginald was the one to explain about the missing diamonds and O'Toole's wild explanations of his whereabouts. Marian looked at the necklace again but could see no difference in it, but then, she couldn't tell the fake from the original, either. She slid the jewel back into its pouch and closed it.

"Perhaps, if my cousin is responsible, we should say nothing to Mama. It does not hurt to share a little of what we have. He was not greedy. He gave us back the most valuable part."

She turned to the viscount. "I really don't think it's necessary to replace anything. The necklace was to be part of my dowry. It seems foolish for Reginald to have to replace what would have been his anyway."

Charles gave her an approving look. "The family is bound to do something in honor of your betrothal. You and Reginald may decide how you wish it settled. In the meantime, we will have a dinner and perhaps some dancing in your honor. When my wife arrives, I will have her call so the two of you may make the arrangements." He rose as if to depart.

"You have not had your tea, sir. Would you not care to stay to refresh yourself?"

Charles sent his brother a quick glance. "I have another engagement, but I suspect Reggie might stay for a scone or two. I trust your maid will be prompt if I leave now? I wouldn't wish to leave you alone with him for long, not the way he's looking at you right now."

Marian looked up at Reginald in surprise but didn't see anything there that hadn't been there before. Charles chuckled and walked out, leaving the two lovers to work it out between themselves.

"You are learning quickly, my dear. I might come to miss hearing your brutally honest truths, but I suppose the sugar-coated kind will go farther in keeping harmony among family." Reginald leaned over and touched his lips to hers.

Marian hadn't been prepared for that. She had little or no experience with men. She couldn't tell what they were thinking from one minute to the next. She particularly couldn't tell what this one was thinking because he kept everything hidden behind a facade that would give credit to a marble statue. But his mouth had no resemblance to marble at all. She sighed in contentment as his lips slowly administered to hers.

A tingle of excitement was just beginning to build when the rattle of a tray outside the door forced them back to a more respectable distance. Marian heard Mr. Montague—Reginald—give a frustrated moan as he sat back, and she stole a peek at his expression. He wasn't exactly looking cold.

Lady Grace followed the tray in. She appeared to have just arisen and had dressed only because they had guests instead of remaining in her usual dishabille. She hid a yawn behind a discreet hand, and smiled at Mr. Montague.

"You are early, sir. Eagerness in a suitor is recommended. I understand I have missed your brother?"

Reginald rose from the sofa to bow over the lady's hand and to escort her to a chair. He took his place beside Marian again but refrained from his more possessive pose of earlier. "There will be time for you to meet all my family shortly. My sister-in-law will be arriving soon, and no doubt my father will accompany her. I trust your journey was not too uncomfortable?"

"No, the weather was fine. The hours were long, however." She dismissed the maid and poured the tea.

Marian laid the velvet pouch upon the tray. "Mama, Mr. Montague has found our necklace. It was apparently only lost instead of stolen."

Reginald showed no emotion at this version of the story. He sipped his tea and watched Lady Grace exclaim over the return of her one piece of jewelry. It was more than obvious that the necklace's only value to the lady was in its memories.

He tilted a look at the demure miss beside him. They needed to talk. "Is it too early to ask you for a drive in the park? I thought we might stop by a jeweler and choose a betrothal gift, since I failed to have one available earlier."

Marian sent him a look of surprise, but she answered complacently. "The park would be lovely. Mama, would it be all right?"

Lady Grace dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

When they were within Reginald's curricle—without O'Toole as groom—Marian turned a questioning glance to her betrothed's suddenly grim expression.

"There is some other problem that you have failed to mention?" she asked, trying to ignore the unease roiling in her stomach. He had played the part of attentive suitor much too well. She feared now was the time he pulled the rug from under her feet.

"I placed the announcement of our betrothal in the papers before the necklace was returned. All of London knows of our plans to wed. Now that you have your necklace back and don't need me anymore, I would appreciate it if you waited a while to change your mind about our marriage. I have no wish to be a laughingstock."

Marian gaped at him in surprise. "Are you hoping that I will end our betrothal?"

Grimly, Montague smacked the whip over the horse's heads and turned them through the park gates. "That's plain speaking. I suppose I deserve that. This honesty business becomes a trifle difficult, doesn't it?"

Marian sat back against the squabs and stared out at the lovely green of the trees. "The necklace was ever only a temporary measure. I must marry so my mother need not worry about my support for years to come. If you are truly opposed to this marriage, then we must end the betrothal now and pray that no word of our... indiscretion... leaks out. We can only afford this one Season. I will need to find another suitor before it ends."