A Study In Seduction(51)

She started to close the locket, then noticed that the casing seemed oddly thick—too thick to house mere paper images. She closed the compartment and examined the edges.

The case hinging appeared thick as well, almost as if it were holding together a double seam. Jane pulled the case open again to reveal the pictures, then turned it to look at the seam. She wiggled her fingernail into the edge again, blinking with surprise when the casing popped open to reveal a second compartment hidden behind the first. An object dropped from the case to the floor.

Her gaze flew to the brothers, who remained half turned away from her in conversation. Jane bent to peer at the carpet, running her hand over the thick pattern. Her fingers brushed against a small piece of cold metal. She picked it up and laid it flat in her palm.

A tiny brass key. She’d never seen anything like it before. Smaller than the length of her little finger, the key had a scrolled end and a rectangular bit pierced with decorative holes. It looked like something a mouse might use.

The thought made her smile to herself.

“Miss Jane.”

Starting at the viscount’s voice, Jane looked up, her fist closing around the key.

“I’d be very much obliged if you would return the locket to your sister,” Lord Northwood said. “Though I must warn you she might not be entirely pleased.”

Jane thought the warning had something to do with the circumstances best left unexplained of which he’d spoken.

“Sir, if Lydia knows you have the locket, it’s not my place to return it to her.” She moved forward and held out the necklace. “And I’d rather not have her displeased with me.”

After a long hesitation, Lord Northwood allowed her to drop the locket into his palm. Jane started to return the little key as well, then stopped. Her fingers tightened around it, the thin edges digging into her hand.

“Right.” Mr. Hall clapped his hands together and moved to the piano. “We’d best begin our lesson, Miss Jane. I thought you might like to learn a little song called ‘Pretty Bee.’ ”

Lord Northwood gave Jane a bow, the locket still enclosed in his fist. “We’ll meet again soon.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She watched him walk to the door, her nerves stretching as she tried to make herself call him back. The key made an imprint against her palm. Lord Northwood left, the door closing behind him.

Jane’s heart thumped as if struggling to push blood through her veins. She turned to Mr. Hall, who was riffling through the sheet music.

“Come and start the scales, please, Miss Jane.”

Jane approached the piano. She dropped the key into her pocket, where it burned through her skirts for the entirety of the lesson.





Chapter Thirteen




Floreston Manor sat nestled among the hills of Devon, the grounds spreading out from the house like a vast green ocean. The ivy-covered brick-and-stone house appeared well suited to the landscape, as if the two were a married couple living out their years in peace and happiness. Spring blossoms perfumed the air.

Alexander breathed in the clean, fresh scent as he followed his father from the carriage onto the circular drive.

“Is the girl coming along? Jane?”

Alexander looked at Rushton in surprise. “No, she’s staying in London with her grandmother.”

The earl made a noise that sounded like displeasure.

“How do you know Jane?” Alexander asked.

“Met her when she came for a lesson with your brother. Pleasant girl. Bit interfering, but clever enough.”

“One might say the same of her sister.”

He and Rushton exchanged glances; then they both chuckled. A knot loosened at the base of Alexander’s neck as they walked toward the manor, where a line of staff stood waiting to greet them. The place was ready and gleaming for their arrival.

“Isn’t Lady Talia to have come as well?” the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, asked with a worried air.

“She’s arriving on a later train with Miss Kellaway, Sebastian, and Lord Castleford,” Alexander explained. “They’ll be here in time for supper.”

He preceded his father into the drawing room. They both stopped as a large portrait of Lady Rushton looked down at them from above the mantel. The image was one of cold beauty, the woman’s eyebrows arched, her mouth curved into a hard smile.

Rushton coughed. “Have Weavers remove that at once. Any others as well.”