“I’m looking for a wealthy widow,” Kendal said.
The man by the door burst into laughter, as did several others within earshot.
The man slapped him on the shoulder and said jovially, “I am too, lad.”
Several others piped up that they were also seeking wealthy widows.
Irritation ground at Kendal’s nerves like splinters of glass. He was too bloody hungry to deal with such nonsense and was evidently not thinking straight.
He quit the tavern in favor of a nearby inn, where he promptly rented a room, scrubbed down as best he could and made his way to the dining area for food that wouldn’t have questionable meat. This time there was no body odor and stale alcohol. Simply the wonderfully enticing aroma of adequately mediocre food.
After a thick slab of venison with rich onion gravy, some roasted asparagus spears and a glass of whisky, he had his senses about him. Enough to notice a nefarious, twitchy chap speaking with a couple at the table beside him.
“Real diamonds, it is,” he said in a roughly accented voice.
“Where did you get it?” The gentleman that the ruffian spoke to regarded him with apparent skepticism.
The lady, however, stared at the necklace with wide, starry eyes.
“How do I know it isn’t paste?” the gentleman asked.
It didn’t look like paste from where Kendal sat. Quite the opposite, in fact. It appeared to be the sort of jewels an aunt might bequeath to her youngest niece. And rather similar to one of the items described to Kendal by Lady Sophia’s maid at Gullsville Place, prior to his departure.
“How much?” the lady asked.
“Five hundred pounds.”
The gentleman sputtered, but the lady shot him a hopeful look regardless.
Kendal had enough of the charade. He pushed to his feet and marched over to the table. “This man is a thief,” he declared.
The gentleman scowled. “I knew something was amiss.”
Before the man with the necklace could protest his innocence, Kendal grabbed him by his collar and dragged him out into the hall. The lady gave a surprised cry, but Kendal ignored it.
He didn’t have a wicked reputation for nothing.
“I recognize this necklace.” Kendal gave the dullard a hard shove against the wall.
The man looked at him with wide eyes, a criminal caught. “I…it’s mine,” he stammered. “It was me mum’s. Just paste. Like the gentleman said.”
Anger burned through Kendal’s veins, and he pushed his forearm into the man’s neck. “These look like the gems of a woman who recently left London in a hurry.”
The wastrel looked away even as his face flushed from his limited air supply.
“A widow.” Kendal pushed his elbow harder. The man dropped the velvet-lined box containing the necklace, which Kendal swiftly caught in his free hand. “This wasn’t your mother’s, was it?”
The man growled. “No.” The simple answer exhaled out in a wheeze.
“Do you have any more of her belongings?” Kendal demanded.
The man shook his head.
He most likely spoke the truth. If he’d had more, no doubt he would have offered them in addition to the necklace to the couple.
However, a threat was still in order—nothing like fearing for one’s freedom to ensure prolonged compliance.
“If you’re lying to me, I’ll hunt you down like the dog you are.” Kendal released his opponent, who choked in a mouthful of air. “Tell me where she’s staying, and I won’t notify the authorities of what you’ve done.”
“The Love Nest Inn,” he gasped.
Kendal regarded the man coolly. “I suggest you depart the area. If I see you again, I don’t believe I’ll find it in myself to be as generous a second time.”
The thief nodded and took off at a staggering run while clasping his throat.
The Love Nest Inn. Kendal didn’t bother to keep from rolling his eyes. He divested his room of his belongings and made his way to the unfortunately named inn.
The innkeeper met him with a smile that grew larger after his eyes skimmed over Kendal’s costly attire. “Can I set ye up with a room?”
“I believe you have a widow in your lodgings.” There was no sense in postponing the discussion, not when Lady Sophia had evidently been robbed.
The innkeeper folded his hands behind his back. “If such a lady were to be within my establishment, she would undoubtedly have paid for my discretion.”
So this was how it was going to be.
Kendal suppressed a sigh and reached into his pocket, withdrawing several coins, which he lay upon the counter. “Do you have a widow in your lodging house?” He asked again, this time with measured patience.
The other man discreetly settled his hand over the stack and whisked the small money away. “Indeed, I do, my lord. However, she came in with a veil over her face, so I canna tell ye what she looked like. She took her dinner in her room if that is of any aid to ye.”
Ah, so she was being careful.
It was a wise choice, especially after being robbed.
Kendal put another coin on the counter. “I appreciate the information. As well as anything else that you may be able to share.”
Again, the coin disappeared swiftly. “She is in need of a new driver. Her last one went to her room and was never seen again. When she spoke with me, she appeared somewhat flustered, but wouldna say why.”
So the bastard knew she’d been robbed. “And if you had to speculate? What would you think became of her driver?”
“I dare say he robbed her, but she dinna wish to inform me of whatever reason.”
“And did you notify the authorities?”
“The lady paid extra for discretion.” The innkeeper raised his brows as though Kendal were daft.
While Lady Sophia had bribed the man, apparently it had not been enough, or Kendal wouldn’t have been able to loosen the crooked innkeeper’s tongue so easily.
No doubt the business of secrets was lucrative.
But, if Lady Sophia went so far as to refrain from reporting a thief who had stolen an expensive necklace, she wouldn’t readily agree to return to London. Especially as Kendal’s wife.
He would have to be clever.
Marguerite was counting on him.
“Is there anything else I may be of assistance with?” the innkeeper asked with a hopeful grin.
“Yes,” Kendal replied. “I shall require a driver’s attire.”
Sophia woke with a nip of unease in her chest. The incident with her driver had been most distressing.
She squeezed her eyes shut and fully acknowledged the hurt of losing her aunt’s diamond necklace. It was funny that she had been so willing to sell it only days before, but how poignant its absence was now. For its sentiment more so than for the loss of its value.
What was more, she did not have a driver unless the innkeeper was able to procure one for her the prior evening or early this morning.
And she was alone.
Wholly and completely alone.
Doubt seeped into her thoughts at that moment, pressing through the optimism that had been so resplendent as she rode through England on her way to a great adventure.
It was still great, to be sure. She had to remind herself as much, to bolster her excitement and shove away her fears.