Quinn heard a strangled sob and glanced toward Miss Dalton. She was so pale, he feared she might faint and topple into the open grave, where her late father waited to be laid to rest.

He eased back a little, discreetly positioning himself closer to the woman and her mother. Her spine straightened as those gathered around the graveside regarded her. He was uncertain if the people attending the burial were true mourners or merely gawkers after gossip.

Funerals were always hard, but this was the first time Miss Dalton had shown her upset since the morning after the fire. He’d never thought her unfeeling, but he did think her strange to fight the release of emotion so commonly felt at such a time.

The vicar droned on, and Quinn listened with one ear, but the rest of his attention remained on Miss Dalton and what she might need from him. To be honest, he was quite worried about what her next request might be, given that she’d already propositioned him—a complete stranger.

When the vicar finished his graveside sermon, mother and daughter held each other. Fingers entwined so tightly, their knuckles showed white. Mrs. Dalton sobbed brokenly as the vicar attempted to speak words of condolence to her.

Miss Dalton put an arm around her mother’s back to hold her up. Her face was blank of emotion, conquered by sheer force of will, he suspected.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “My father would have been honored by your words today.”

“He was an exceptional man. I am sorrier for his death than you can possibly know.”

Miss Dalton gently turned her unresponsive mother toward the waiting carriages. Their steps slow, measured.

Neither lady needed to remain while the coffin was lowered into the ground and covered with earth. But Quinn would. He would ensure her father’s final resting place could never be disturbed by grave robbers.

Although more familiar with burials at sea, he gestured to the men he’d hired and waited while the mortsafe was lowered over the simple coffin. Only then did he allow the grave to be filled, and tossed coins to the men who would remain in the cemetery for the next ten days or so. Further security against those who would defile Mr. Dalton’s final rest.

Mr. Millard Dalton had suffered enough, in Quinn’s opinion.

As he turned from the grave, he noticed Mr. Banks standing nearby.

He moved toward the man. “Banks, it was good of you to come.”

“I came to see you, actually.” He glanced back toward the carriage briefly. “I called at your home, and your servants were kind enough to give me your directions.”

“Oh,” he said. “Is there a problem?”

“No. I have good news in fact.”

“What is it?”

He winced. “I did not want to speak of this before his widow, but when Dalton’s body was inspected more closely before placed in the coffin, these were found. They were embedded in Mr. Dalton’s very flesh.”

Banks opened up a square of linen to reveal a handful of bright gems.

Quinn gasped. “What the devil?”

“There was what seemed to be some gold inside his charred flesh, too, which makes me suspect that Dalton had these gems on a gold chain around his neck when he died.”

Although his stomach clenched, Quinn picked up one gem, studying the color and shape in the light. “These seem perfect.”

“Yes, I was unsure of what they might be, and took the liberty of having them cleaned by a colleague. Once polished, it became clear what I had in hand was very valuable.” He glanced toward the carriage where Miss Dalton and Mrs. Dalton waited for Quinn. “They should be returned, but perhaps you might oblige me in this errand? I understand the Dalton women are still guests of yours.”

“They are.” Quinn accepted the gems, stuffing them in his inner pocket. “Mr. Dalton was very well loved by his wife and daughter, and Mrs. Dalton particularly seems incapable of making any decisions. There will never be a good time to return these, I fear, but I promise I will do so at the first opportunity.”

“I do understand, but it is not right to allow them to believe themselves paupers. I have it on good authority that you have a king’s ransom there.”

He smiled quickly, exceedingly happy for them. With these gems in their possession, they could be settled in a new home soon. They could live a life of ease, as Dalton would have wanted. He was also relieved Theodora would have no need to begin work for him, or for anyone. “I don’t believe the Dalton women had any idea of this.”

“I wonder why?”

Quinn did too. Those gems would set the Dalton women up for the rest of their lives, though. “I’ll return them to Mrs. Dalton when we reach my home.”

He said his farewells to the investigator and joined the women in his carriage. Mrs. Dalton had turned her face away, and Theodora was curled against her mother’s side. Neither lady acknowledged him. Quinn tapped the carriage roof and got them underway, regarding the pair with concern.

They remained silent until they reached Maitland House. Mrs. Dalton was the first to speak, thanking him for his assistance as she alighted from the carriage. Theodora said nothing at all, merely stumbled up the front stairs and disappeared inside faster than he expected. He held out his arm to Mrs. Dalton, allowing her to lean on his strength as she returned indoors.

“Mr. Banks spoke to me after the burial.”

“Did he?” More tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Indeed.” Once inside, and in private, he revealed the gems to her on his palm. “It seems Mr. Dalton did not leave you without means after all.”

Mrs. Dalton poked at the gems without any real interest. “My necklace? He was supposed to have the clasp fixed for me. How did you come to have them?”

Quinn winced. “I’m told your husband was wearing them when he died.”

Mrs. Dalton sobbed at that and pushed his hand away. “I don’t want them!”

“But they are yours to keep. Madam, nothing is beyond your reach now.”

“All I want is Millard returned to me.” She backed away. “Keep them. I couldn’t bear to wear them again.”

She turned and dashed for the staircase.

“Mrs. Dalton!” Quinn called after her.

She kept going without looking back at him once. He heard her sobs and winced. “Madam, please. I’m so sorry. I had no choice but to tell you.”

Mrs. Dalton waved a hand just before she disappeared out of sight.

Damn. He should have waited to tell Mrs. Dalton about the stones, but how could he allow her to continue to think herself destitute? That would be heartless. He couldn’t have not informed her. The stones were hers by rights, and valuable.

Perhaps he should have told Miss Dalton first, instead, and allowed her to break the news more gently.

He followed Mrs. Dalton upstairs, intending to speak with her daughter next. The doors to his guest bedchambers were closed, as expected, and as he poised outside the first door, Theodora’s, he heard the woman’s heartbreaking sobs inside.

Determined not to further upset the women, he retreated to his bedchamber and the cold hearth next to his bed. He knelt, stretched his hand up inside the chimney, and removed a steel box from within. He pried the lid open and, since it was empty, dropped the stones inside and hid it again. The stones would remain there until Mrs. Dalton asked for their return. He would allow her time to grieve before broaching the subject again.