SITTING ALONG IN HIS club, the drone of cheerful male voices a backdrop to his misery, Robert stared into his scotch. In his vision stood an image of Emilia, beautiful in a pale blue gown, golden tresses tumbling about, and Dunreid’s sapphire at her throat.

His grip tightened. Damn Dunreid and his sapphire, and damn… no, he couldn’t bring himself to damn Emilia. If anyone else should be consigned to hell, Robert should be. He wouldn’t even have to leave his club. Hell was the world in which he lived.

He eased his grip on the tumbler. He’d already squeezed one into fragments that week. He had the cuts to prove it. His eyes drifted to the decanter in the center of the table, only drained when he poured a new glass each afternoon. A glass he stared at but didn’t drink. Not even scotch could numb the pain of Emilia’s betrayal.

Even dreams of the Continent held no draw. Nor did dreams of seductive French women, or vivacious Italians. The smooth lull of cognac, the vivid bite of grappa. No amount of exotic beauty or expensive liquor would make a difference. The usual pleasures didn’t matter. If Cinthia had broken his heart, Emilia had mended the tortured organ, made it whole. Then she’d taken a blade to it and shave it into little pieces. He set down his tumbler, rested his elbows on the table, and dropped his face to his palms.

The chair across from him scraped out. Fabric rustled as someone settled into the seat. The tumbler at his elbow made a low grating sound as the heavy crystal was dragged across the table. The thick scent of Dunreid’s cologne clogged Robert’s nose, and threatened to gag him. He heard the viscount swallow. The glass clunked back to the tabletop.

“Don’t see what you’re so dismal about,” Dunreid said. “Good scotch.”

Robert lifted his head. So many curses clamored at his lips, he couldn’t get one out. “You unmitigated ass,” he finally managed.

Dunreid raised his eyebrows. “Look, I only came over to find out if you know who won the Glasbarr chit. Been driving me mad, not knowing. I even went to that jeweler, the one on High Street. They admitted to making the piece she wore, but won’t tell me more.”

Robert stared. He tried to make sense of Dunreid’s words. “Bribed?”

“Don’t act as if you’ve never bribed anyone.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t judge me, Banbrook. Least you can do after I didn’t press charges when you bedded my wife.”

“I didn’t bed anyone,” Robert mumbled, his thoughts as muddled as if he’d been drinking the scotch Dunreid now sipped. “You’re talking about the necklace you sent?”

“You heard about that?” Dunreid frowned, then shrugged and took another sip. “Suppose she told you? Gorgeous piece. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and a great big sapphire. Don’t know how a girl could resist an expensive bauble like that, but she returned the damn thing. Jeweler even refunded the fee. Who’d think a single sapphire would win out over all that?” Dunreid’s expression turned rueful. “Then again, Cinthia has most everything I give her reset, so maybe my taste doesn’t appeal to women.”

“You didn’t send the sapphire?” Robert gave his head a hard shake to clear his thoughts.

“That one she wore at the ball? I wouldn’t insult a girl by buying her with so little.” He eyed Robert for a long moment. “You’re telling me you don’t know who sent that paltry pendant? Whose favor she accepted when she wouldn’t have me?”

“When she wouldn’t have you?”

“That’s what I said. Gads, man, is that your second decanter?”

“But you said, you lost,” Robert blurted, confused. “In the foyer, you said I’d lost.”

“So you had, and me along with you. You saw that pendant she wore clear as I. A girl like that wouldn’t wear a man’s gift in public for all to see unless she was in love with the fellow.” Dunreid shook his head. “You can’t compete with love. I’m smart enough to know when I’m beat.”

“But you pursued Cinthia.”

Dunreid gave him a pitying look. “I did, and I stand by my words. Can’t win over a girl in love.” Dunreid downed the rest of the scotch and stood. He set the glass on the table and leaned over to peer at Robert. “You look like hell, Banbrook. Shave, get your valet to dress you for evening, and go find yourself a sweet little piece to take your mind off things. Lord knows that’s what I’m going to do.”

Robert watched the viscount stomp away, his mind swirling. Not Dunreid’s sapphire? Who, then? Someone must have sent the pendant, but not Dunreid. Emilia hadn’t agreed to be the viscount’s mistress after all. He hadn’t bought her, offered her something she thought she couldn’t live without, like he had with Cinthia.

But someone had. Robert leaned back in his chair and stared at the far wall. Was the necklace a payment, or a proposal? He thought back through the men Emilia had danced with, and those they’d seen in the park. She hadn’t seemed inclined toward any of them.

He rarely agreed with Dunreid on anything, but the viscount was right, the truth must be known, and the jeweler on High Street could reveal who’d sent the necklace. Perhaps charm would win where demands and bribery had not, for Robert was sure those were Dunreid’s only tactics.

He pushed to his feet and waved a footman over. “Send for my carriage.”

“Yes, sir.” The man, John, hurried away.

 Long strides carried Robert from the club. He paced outside until his carriage appeared. Not waiting for the conveyance to fully halt, he yanked open the door. He paused only long enough to say, “The jeweler on High Street, now,” before he jumped in.

The carriage ride to High Street had never seemed longer. He shifted in his seat, pulled back the curtain a dozen times. Teeth gritted, all he could do was wait for his carriage to arrive.

Robert was familiar with the shop, used by the wealthiest in Edinburgh, and the proprietor. He’d purchased several small, but expensive, items for Kitty there. He hadn’t thought on the baubles until that moment, but she obviously hadn’t felt the need to return them after calling their wedding off. Not that he begrudged her mementoes of their doomed courtship.

When they finally arrived, Robert leapt from the carriage before his footman could descend to open the door. A rosy-cheeked shop girl met him at the jeweler’s door, which she opened from within, offering Robert a dimpled smile. He entered the exceedingly clean, almost sparse space in a mingled state of curiosity and desperation, both of which he concealed behind a properly bored expression. All around him, against the austere backdrop of white walls and dark flooring, gems glittered.

“Mister Banbrook,” the proprietor greeted, his smile making a tangle of wrinkles under his spectacles and hairless scalp. “A fine afternoon to you, sir. How can we assist you today? We’ve acquired some lovely new stones since your last visit.”

“I’m more in the market for information today, Stevens.” Robert strolled to the counter.

“Ah, well, that we’re in shorter supply of, sir, as you know.”

Robert did know. Often, part of what the man was paid for was secrecy. “Yes, but it’s a matter of the heart, you see,” Robert said. “My heart.”

The jeweler frowned. “I am not an expert in such matters, I’m afraid, sir, but whatever the trouble is, it will go better for you with the gift of jewels.”

“You’re wise as always, but that remains to be seen,” Robert studied the expensive set stones and loose gems on display before him. How he could bring the conversation round to what he wished to know? Suddenly, he could sympathize with Dunreid’s urge to bully. Robert tamped down the desire and tried another avenue. “I’m sure you know, as all Edinburgh seems to, why I came to your fine city?”

That elicited a cough and a pitying look reminiscent of Dunreid’s. “As you say, sir, the entire city is familiar with your story. A wealthy Englishman, thrown over for a Scottish title. Many is the time I’ve heard the tale repeated.” His expression turned sheepish under bushy white eyebrows. “Generally, with enthusiasm, by Scots. Then there was Miss Kitty Thomas, soon to be Missus Cathryn McMullin.”

Robert grimaced. “I hadn’t heard she was engaged again so soon.”

“Childhood sweetheart, and a good Scotsman.”

“I’m pleased to hear Miss Thomas has found happiness.” Robert cleared his throat. “It’s not about her I’ve come, as you can undoubtedly guess.”

“You’ve come about the sapphire pendant I had sent up to Lady Peddington’s.”

Robert nodded, surprised to gain a foothold so easily.

“You aren’t the first to ask about it.”

“So I’ve heard. It was Dunreid who told me you were the source of the item.”

Stevens raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were on friendly terms. Rumor has it, you’re the source of his blackened eye, not many days ago.”

“Friendly isn’t the exact word.” Robert shrugged. “As for his eye, I admit I may have failed to keep my temper.”

Stevens pressed his lips into a thin line and scrutinized Robert. “I didn’t advise Viscount Dunreid on the origin of the pendant sent up to the school,” Stevens finally said. His face crinkled into a look of apology. “You know it’s our policy not to speak of our customers.”

“I do, and I respect that.” Robert leaned forward. Could he appeal to the old man’s heart? “Is there anything you can tell me, though? Even the littlest thing.”

Stevens looked about the room. The girl busied herself on the far side, lighting candles. Soon, the shop would be aglow for late afternoon traffic. Robert was familiar with the glittering display. Stevens attempted to provide as much light as possible. He likely spent a fortune in candles, but obviously made up for the cost in sales.

“The circumstances did give me pause,” Stevens said in a low voice. “May I ask, Mister Banbrook, why you wish to know?”

Dark eyes, buried deep within crinkled lids, regarded him. Robert paused to think on the question. Why did he? What would he do if Miss Glasbarr had agreed to become some man’s toy? Demand she wed him instead?

Definitely. Instantly.

But what if she’d discovered love with another man? Would he walk away, or would he try to win her back, steal her? Do to someone else what Dunreid had done to him?

He shook his head. “I want to see that Miss Glasbarr is happy and cared for. If…if I deem she’s contemplating a less than honorable proposal, I shall offer marriage to me instead.” He swallowed, clearing the way to force out his next words. “If she’s happy, I will bow out.”

Stevens studied him for another long moment. He nodded. “You’re a good sort, for an Englishman.” He let out a gusty sigh. “Truth is, I worry the girl is being used abominably. First the viscount sent her a gift he ought not have sent a sweet country lass. Next, a certain lady enters my shop with the very same gift, pays me to refund the viscount and reset the gems. I wouldn’t have minded that. The lady in question was the one he should be giving jewelry to.”

Apprehension flickered to life in Robert’s gut, writhing outward to tense every limb. Cinthia. How had she ended up with the first necklace?

“What I minded was having the largest sapphire of the lot sent back up to the school, and the card she made me write to accompany the package.” Another shake of Stevens’ head, slower. “I knew writing that card wasn’t right, sir, and I feel I’ve wronged both you and Miss Glasbarr, which is the only reason I’m speaking about a client. I oughtn’t have agreed to do as the lady asked. I wouldn’t have, but she was quite insistent, and shrill and, well, threatened my business and even my person. The truth is, Mister Banbrook, I’m ashamed, but she had me send that pendant and sign the note with your initials.”

The world might be moving, but Robert was not. He stared at the jeweler as the truth settled over him. His anger dissolved like a morning fog. Emilia thought the necklace came from him, and wore his gift. For him.

Then why had she appeared so stricken? He’d thought, at the time, her horrified look was due to his discovery of her betrayal.

Robert thought back. Shock slammed into his burgeoning joy. Dunreid’s words, his accusation. Emilia had heard Dunreid’s accusation.

“Here, sir.” Stevens pulled out a ring of keys. He turned to one of many locked cabinets behind him and retrieved a box with a note. He pushed them across the counter to Robert. “She returned this, as well. Came in herself. Been wracked with guilt, I have. Sweet girl, and lovely as they come.”

Robert opened the box. The sapphire pendant rested inside, still strung on the chain he’d seen about Emilia’s neck. He shut the lid and opened the note.

To wear tonight.

Yours, with the greatest affection,

RB

He read the lines several times, equally elated and despairing. She thought the necklace a declaration of his love, and she’d worn it.

But her expression, when she burst from the cloakroom to defend him… Obviously, she had believed Dunreid. Emilia thought he was still set on Cinthia, a woman who knew him so well. Well enough to judge his reaction upon seeing Emilia wearing a jewel he hadn’t sent.

Anger twisted his belly. Damn Cinthia, and damn his quick temper. He took a breath. “Thank you, Stevens. I believe you’ve done the right thing. You’re correct, Miss Glasbarr has been treated abominably.”

“You won’t let out I told you, sir?” Stevens cast another glance about the shop. “The lady was quite explicit about what would happen to me and my livelihood.”

“I’ll only tell one person, and I can assure you, she wants nothing to do with Viscountess Dunreid.” Robert folded the note and pushed the page across the counter with the box.

“Thank you, Mister Banbrook.” A gleam, bright like the gems he sold, appeared in Stevens’ eyes. “If everything works out, sir, please think of us for future gifts for the young lady.”

Robert nodded, for Stevens had done the right thing in the end. In a lighter mood, he would even have been amused by the suggestion. “Until then.” He left as hurriedly as he’d come. He wasn’t exactly dressed for evening, but he didn’t care. He had a ball to attend.