No Place for a Lady by Joan Smith Page A

going to weasel your way out of this one. You knew perfectly well the pearls were there! You planned to keep them, and try to convince me of your innocence by returning the less valuable pieces. How much does Sharkey pay you? Do you take your cut in chess sets and crystal decanters, or does Sharkey work for you?”
    His reply was a bark of annoyance: “Don’t be ridiculous!”
    “Don’t you take me for a fool.”
    “Sharkey did tell me the pearls were in the vase,” he admitted. “He dropped them there for safekeeping last night. Bow Street does occasionally visit his rooms. I had already gotten the ring from him, to return to Lady Pryor. I meant to return the pearls as well. I did not wish to further aggravate you by telling you they were in your flat.”
    “A likely story!”
    “No, a demmed unlikely one, but truth is oftentimes stranger than fiction. I could come up with a more convincing tale if I were trying to con you.”
    “Yes, you are good at inventing tales!”
    “I am trying to reform Sharkey.”
    “Where is the thief now?”
    “He is doing a little job for me.”
    “Then you are in charge! Stop the carriage this instant.”
    “A purely legal job,” he said, through gritted teeth .
    “Hah! He would not know the meaning of the word, and neither would you. What kind of job? Sharkey cannot know anything of politics.”
    “His errand has nothing to do with politics. It has to do with a horse I am thinking of buying. Sharkey knows horseflesh. He is trying the animal out for me. A hunter. I have been invited to hunt with Dolman’s pack.”
    I kept his reply in mind, not believing nor quite disbelieving, but just mulling it over. “You gave Sharkey the money to pay the rent?”
    “I lent it to him. He always repays me—not in stolen objects,” he added angrily. “Good God! You sound as though I were a common felon.”
    “People are judged by the company they keep, Mr. Alger.”
    “Then you had best be wary of seeing much of me, Miss Irving, n’est-ce pas?” he said satirically.
    “You may be very sure that has occurred to me, sir,” I replied.
    In truth, his little flare-up of temper did more to convince me he was innocent than any amount of smiling and flirting. He could have been looking for the necklace to return to Lady Pryor. He did not seem upset that I had returned it. We had been driving at a good clip toward the respectable part of town during our argument. Neither of us spoke for a few blocks. Then he turned to me and smiled a smile that told me I must be on my guard with him, for he had more charm than was good for a lady.
    “Let us not spoil our outing, Miss Irving. I have been looking forward to it all day. As you plan to leave soon, we shall not have many opportunities to know each other. Somerset House has an interesting history, and a good location, right on the Thames. It was begun by Somerset in the sixteen hundreds, but he was beheaded before it was finished. The queens of Charles the first and second lived there. It was only at the end of the last century that it was put to public use.” He continued on with other details of the house’s history and architecture.
    A gathering of carriages alerted me as we drew near the spot, and soon we had arrived. Alger found a linkboy to hold the rig for him while we took a look at the outside of the building. It was done in the Palladian style, with the long front facing the water. The Thames lapped gently at the shore. The cooling breeze was welcome on a warm day. Pleasure boats and some tugs were plying the waters.
    Inside, the paintings were hung densely on the walls, one above the other, cheek by jowl, right up to the ceiling. Truth to tell, there was not one among them that excited my deep admiration. It was a landscape exhibition that was on display. I find nature so beautiful, and so easily accessible to be admired, that pictures of it seem superfluous. I had been hoping for a portrait exhibition, to see pictures of famous