more desperate.”
“Our little man didn’t say that, not precisely,” Coop corrected. “He assumed your grandmother’s garnets were used to pay a debt. It’s just as possible the blackmailer made an outright sale to the moneylender— Wait. How do we know, how does the proprietor know, that the man we just saw is a moneylender at all? No names were exchanged. Damn. We may have just seen the blackmailer. If he’s paid in jewels, he then sells them.”
“I suppose that’s possible. I didn’t see his face thanks to you pushing me behind your back. Did you get a good look at him?”
“No. He was angrily jamming his hat on his head as he passed by, his arm fairly well covering his face. Upon reflection, that may have been deliberate, if he’d recognized me. Tall, but not as tall as I, well dressed, but not remarkably so. And we didn’t hear him speak. In other words, he could have been anyone.”
“Yes, but you said tall. That would mean tall enough to reach the knothole. Doesn’t that prove that we’re dealing with more than one person?” Dany felt excitement, but only for a moment. “That doesn’t really help us, does it?”
“Probably not, no. Oh, and by the way, my compliments on your clever handling of Birdwell.”
“He deserved it, assuming I was your light-o’-love, or some such thing.”
Coop shook his head. “Damn, I was hoping you hadn’t noticed. I told you I’m new to all of this, so I apologize for bringing you in here. Clearly, choosing betrothal rings are the duty of the groom.”
“I don’t see why. The groom doesn’t wear the thing.”
“True, but we won’t point that out.”
“Or ask costs.”
“With my betrothed present? No, I—we—definitely will not ask costs.”
Dany couldn’t help herself. She laid her hand on his forearm and batted her eyelashes at him, just as Mari did from time to time with Oliver. “As true love has no price. Aren’t you a dear.”
Coop shifted rather uncomfortably on the stool. “Are you done?”
“I don’t think so, no. Do you think it’s the red hair? Dexter’s said more than once that redheads are often mistaken for females of negotiable affections. Birdwell may only have been making a natural assumption.”
“Can we possibly have this conversation another time? Or are you getting some of your own back for something I did?”
“I’m not quite sure. I’ll have to think about that. It may just be that otherwise I’d feel rather overwhelmed in such stuffy surroundings. Either that, or I’d enjoy seeing Birdwell’s eyebrows climb his forehead like bushy black bugs a few more times. I do know I’m enjoying myself. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“More than I’d believe, yes. I’m nearly on the edge of my seat, wondering what you’ll do next.”
“Well, I could be good. But what fun would that be?”
“No fun at all, I agree. Ah, and here comes our smugly smiling proprietor, followed closely by a parade of clerks toting drawers undoubtedly filled with gems and rings. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let the bug crawl begin.”
She watched as the drawers—she counted seven in all—were reverently placed on the countertop at exactly the same time, the purple velvet cloth covering each just as reverently removed, one after the other. The pompous precision of the thing nearly caused her to giggle.
The clerks stepped back, actually clicked their heels and then turned as one, retreating, leaving behind only a man nearly as large as a mountain. He took up a position behind the diminutive Birdwell that seemed innocuous enough, but warned that there would be no pilfering going on as long as he was around or else there would be a cracked head in someone’s near future.
“My lord, for your kind consideration,” the proprietor intoned importantly, sweeping a hand over the assembled glitter and glory. “My very best, at your disposal. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls, aquamarine, topaz.”
Dany wanted to scream, laugh, jump down from the padded tool and dance about in a circle. She’d never seen so much marvelous all in one place. She was having trouble controlling her breathing; swallowing was definitely beyond her, blinking out of the question.
Yet once again the proprietor was ignoring her, selecting rings and presenting them to Coop, just as if she wasn’t there.
“No,” she heard herself say as the jeweler held out a heavily engraved gold band encrusted with diamonds, the center stone so immense as to seem unreal.
Both Coop and the jeweler turned to look at her, which was when Dany realized she’d spoken.
“You don’t care for it, Miss Foster?” Coop asked, clearly inviting her to do mischief.
Wasn’t he a sweetheart!
“Assist me,” she said to Coop rather imperiously, extending her hand so that she could slide off the stool rather than jump from it. Ladies clearly weren’t often accommodated in jewelry shops, or else at least some of the stools would be shorter. “Yes, thank you. Now step back if you please.”
He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “You don’t care for diamonds?”
“I don’t care to have the Townsends’ soon-to-be ancestral betrothal ring chosen by you two gentlemen. If that were to be the case, you shouldn’t have brought me here.”
He leaned closer, to whisper his next words in her ear. “And what fun would that have been?”
She bit her lip so that she wouldn’t smile. He was going to give her her head, let her do what she wanted, even if it meant she was about to embarrass him all hollow.
But she had an idea, and he’d given it to her.
She walked along the counter in grand imitation of her sister at her most imperious, pointing a finger at first one velvet-lined drawer, and then the next. “No, not this one, take that one away, no, no, definitely not the diamonds. That one,” she declared, stopping in front of the drawer of emerald rings.
Emerald. Like his eyes.
This drawer had been her destination from the moment the assortment had been placed on the cabinet, a decision solidified when he’d looked into her eyes and he’d seen a twinkle of her own mischief there.
Birdwell motioned for the other drawers to be removed and the clerks hustled forward to do his bidding. That left the single drawer in front of Dany, and she hopped up onto the stool once more and began examining its contents, row by row.
The settings and stones all looked so impressive, and so very heavy. Why, Mari very nearly had to have a maid walk beside her, holding up her hand, when she wore the Cockermouth ancestral ring. Dany had supposed the first Cockermouth bride had been nearly Amazonian, and the countesses that followed had all been saddled with the thing, like it or not. Mari swore she adored it, but Mari wouldn’t tell the truth about something like that if someone held a knife to her.
The Townsend brides would not be burdened with anything so monstrously large, or so garish. She slipped off her gloves, more than ready to try on dozens of rings, just because she could.
But that turned out not to be necessary.
“That one,” she declared, pointing to a large but otherwise unadorned rectangular-shaped stone held in place by thin prongs, the gold band itself fairly wide, flat and completely plain. Simple. Elegant. And not likely to bankrupt his lordship.
“Yours is a lady of taste, my lord. This stone has just recently arrived from Columbia, home of the most exquisite emeralds in the world.” If Birdwell had wings, he probably would have lifted completely off the floor. As it was, he seemed to grow about two inches as he reached for the ring.
But Dany was faster. She snatched it up and slid it onto