Doug held emeralds in his hands, five tiers of them in a necklace so heavy it might have strained the neck. He’d seen it in the book. The name—a woman’s. Maria, Louise, he wasn’t sure. But as Whitney had once thought, jewels meant more in three dimensions. What glinted in his hand hadn’t seen light for two centuries.
There was more. Enough for greed, for passion and lust. The little chest all but spilled over with gems. And history. Gingerly, Whitney reached down and picked up the small miniature.
She’d seen portraits of the queen consort many times. But she’d never held a masterpiece of art in her hand before. Marie Antoinette, frivolous, imprudent, and extravagant smiled back at her as though she were still in full reign. The miniature was no more than six inches, oval-shaped, and framed in gold. She couldn’t see the artist’s name, and the portrait was badly in need of treatment, but she knew its value. And the moral.
“Doug—”
“Holy Christ.” No matter how high he’d allowed his dreams to swing, he’d never believed there’d be such sweetness at the end. He had fortune at his fingertips, the ultimate success. He held a perfect teardrop diamond in one hand and a bracelet winking with rubies in the other. He’d just won the game. Hardly realizing he did so, he slipped the diamond into his pocket.
“Look at it. Whitney, we’ve got the whole world right here. The whole goddamn world. God bless the queen.” Laughing, he dropped a string of diamonds and emeralds over her head.
“Doug, look at this.”
“Yeah, what?” He was more interested in the glitters tumbling out of the box than a small dulled painting. “Frame’s worth a few bucks,” he said idly as he dug out a heavy, ornate necklace fashioned with sapphires as big as quarters.
“It’s a portrait of Marie.”
“It’s valuable.”
“It’s priceless.”
“Oh yeah?” Interested, he gave the portrait his attention.
“Doug, this miniature’s two hundred years old. No one alive’s seen it before. No one even knows it exists.”
“So, it’ll bring a good price.”
“Don’t you understand?” Impatient, she took it back from him. “It belongs in a museum. This isn’t something you take to a fence. It’s art. Doug—” She held up the diamond necklace. “Look at this. It’s not just a bunch of pretty stones that have a high market value. Look at the craftsmanship, the style. It’s art, it’s history. If it’s the necklace of the Diamond Affair, it could throw a whole new light on accepted theories.”
“It’s my way out,” he corrected and set the necklace back in the case.
“Doug, these jewels belonged to a woman who lived two centuries ago. Two hundred years. You can’t take her necklace, her bracelet to a pawnshop and have them cut it up. It’s immoral.”
“Let’s talk about morals later.”
“Doug—”
Annoyed, he closed the lid on the box and stood. “Look, you want to give the painting to a museum, maybe a couple of the glitters, okay. We’ll talk about it. I risked my life for this box, and dammit, yours too. I’m not giving up the one chance I have to pull myself out and be somebody so people can gawk at stones in a museum.”
She gave him a look he didn’t understand as she rose to stand in front of him. “You are somebody,” she said softly.
It moved something in him, but he shook his head. “Not good enough, sugar. People like me need what we weren’t born with. I’m tired of playing the game. This takes me over the finish line.”
“Doug—”
“Look, whatever happens to the stuff, first we’ve got to get it out of here.”
She started to argue further, then subsided. “All right, but we will discuss this.”
“All you want.” He gave her the charming smile she’d learned never to trust. “What do you say we take the baby home?”
With a shake of her head, Whitney returned the smile. “We’ve come this far. Maybe we’ll get away with it.”
They stood, but when he turned to push through the brush, she held back. Pulling blooms from vines, she laid them on Gerald’s grave. “You did all you could.” Turning, she followed Doug to the jeep. With another quick glance around, Doug settled the chest in the back and tossed a blanket over it.
“Okay, now we find a hotel.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
When he found one that looked stylish and expensive enough for his taste, Doug pulled up at the curb. “Look, you go check in. I’m going to go see about getting us