glass and she dropped to the flats of her boots. Her heart slammed erratically against her rib cage. Perhaps she’d had too much sunshine. Perhaps she should leave and they could continue on their way home. Yes, it would be best, yet her feet wouldn’t seem to turn.
“I believe that’s her carriage,” Patience whispered.
Grace glanced over her shoulder. A fine carriage waited on the street. Two tall, broad shouldered men stood silently by watching them curiously. Obviously guards, but guarding what?
Grace took her lower lip between her teeth. She’d never met the infamous Lady Lavender. Had never even seen the woman. What did she look like? What hold did she have over these men?
Before she had time to regret her decision, Grace latched onto Patience’s hand and pulled her toward that rounded, wooden door.
“Where are we going?”
“I…I want to see if I can sell my brooch.” True enough, she needed to start selling the jewelry. It was the least sentimental of her pieces, given to her by a wealthy friend long ago. A friend she’d lost contact with. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the weight of the pin.
“Why?”
Grace sighed, annoyed. Why must Patience question everything? “Because…because we’ll need the money if we want to go treasure hunting and we certainly can’t ask John for coins, knowing how he’ll scoff at our ideas.” She wrapped her hand around the large iron bar and pulled open the door. A bell jingled their arrival, but no one swept forward to meet them. The front of the shop was wonderfully empty of people, if not objects. Shelves were lined with oddities, which, usually would have had her panting, but now, were barely given a glance.
“But you said Mr. Baskov never gave a fair price on objects,” Patience whispered.
Blast, her sister would have to remember. “Yes,” she muttered, ducking behind a shelf of Chinese vases, “but everyone deserves a second chance.” Grace gently pushed two vases apart. A man with dark hair blocked her view. From the fine suit and lovely build, he must have been one of Lady Lavender’s men.
“Grace?” Patience whispered next to her, stirring her loose strands of hair into her face and tickling her nose.
Grace sniffled. “Shhh!”
Patience sighed and wandered toward the clocks.
Irritation and impatience shot through Grace in a blur. Move! She wanted to demand of the man who was blocking her view just beyond those shelves.
“Lovely, Mr. Baskov,” a woman murmured. “You do know what I like, don’t you?”
The man shifted, finally, and a woman came into view. Grace drew back, stunned by her beauty. This was the person who was keeping Alex virtually imprisoned? She shoved the two vases together with a clank, wishing to see no more. Lady Lavender was not in the least what she’d expected. Petite with a heart-shaped face of pure perfection. The sort of woman men wanted and women envied.
Grace’s heart gave a painful squeeze of what could only be jealousy. But no, she couldn’t be jealous. Being jealous would mean she cared and she didn’t care. She only cared about Rodrick. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if that could stop the ache that had burrowed deep within her soul. Perhaps Alex was at Lady Lavender’s because he wanted to be there.
“Can I help you?”
Grace spun around. Mr. Dauksza, Mr. Baskov’s apprentice, stood before her looking as intimidating and dour as ever. He was a tall ogre of a man with broad shoulders and the constant look of pure annoyance in his black eyes.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she reached under her fitted jacket for the cameo. “I’ve been meaning to sell this. Don’t wear it anymore, you see.” Her hands shook so badly she could barely get the piece unlatched. “I know Baskov,” she lowered her voice, “is discreet.”
If word got out that she was selling jewelry, their friends would certainly uncover the truth about their dire situation and word would get back to John.
“I believe that’s her carriage,” Patience whispered.
Grace glanced over her shoulder. A fine carriage waited on the street. Two tall, broad shouldered men stood silently by watching them curiously. Obviously guards, but guarding what?
Grace took her lower lip between her teeth. She’d never met the infamous Lady Lavender. Had never even seen the woman. What did she look like? What hold did she have over these men?
Before she had time to regret her decision, Grace latched onto Patience’s hand and pulled her toward that rounded, wooden door.
“Where are we going?”
“I…I want to see if I can sell my brooch.” True enough, she needed to start selling the jewelry. It was the least sentimental of her pieces, given to her by a wealthy friend long ago. A friend she’d lost contact with. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the weight of the pin.
“Why?”
Grace sighed, annoyed. Why must Patience question everything? “Because…because we’ll need the money if we want to go treasure hunting and we certainly can’t ask John for coins, knowing how he’ll scoff at our ideas.” She wrapped her hand around the large iron bar and pulled open the door. A bell jingled their arrival, but no one swept forward to meet them. The front of the shop was wonderfully empty of people, if not objects. Shelves were lined with oddities, which, usually would have had her panting, but now, were barely given a glance.
“But you said Mr. Baskov never gave a fair price on objects,” Patience whispered.
Blast, her sister would have to remember. “Yes,” she muttered, ducking behind a shelf of Chinese vases, “but everyone deserves a second chance.” Grace gently pushed two vases apart. A man with dark hair blocked her view. From the fine suit and lovely build, he must have been one of Lady Lavender’s men.
“Grace?” Patience whispered next to her, stirring her loose strands of hair into her face and tickling her nose.
Grace sniffled. “Shhh!”
Patience sighed and wandered toward the clocks.
Irritation and impatience shot through Grace in a blur. Move! She wanted to demand of the man who was blocking her view just beyond those shelves.
“Lovely, Mr. Baskov,” a woman murmured. “You do know what I like, don’t you?”
The man shifted, finally, and a woman came into view. Grace drew back, stunned by her beauty. This was the person who was keeping Alex virtually imprisoned? She shoved the two vases together with a clank, wishing to see no more. Lady Lavender was not in the least what she’d expected. Petite with a heart-shaped face of pure perfection. The sort of woman men wanted and women envied.
Grace’s heart gave a painful squeeze of what could only be jealousy. But no, she couldn’t be jealous. Being jealous would mean she cared and she didn’t care. She only cared about Rodrick. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if that could stop the ache that had burrowed deep within her soul. Perhaps Alex was at Lady Lavender’s because he wanted to be there.
“Can I help you?”
Grace spun around. Mr. Dauksza, Mr. Baskov’s apprentice, stood before her looking as intimidating and dour as ever. He was a tall ogre of a man with broad shoulders and the constant look of pure annoyance in his black eyes.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she reached under her fitted jacket for the cameo. “I’ve been meaning to sell this. Don’t wear it anymore, you see.” Her hands shook so badly she could barely get the piece unlatched. “I know Baskov,” she lowered her voice, “is discreet.”
If word got out that she was selling jewelry, their friends would certainly uncover the truth about their dire situation and word would get back to John.
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