her way toward the counter.
A wiry man in his middle-forties rose from a chair behind the counter. His lined face formed more lines as he smiled at her in welcome. “Afternoon.”
“Good afternoon.” Beatrix pitched her voice low. “I have some things to sell. The Vicar sent me.”
That was the name by which Rafe had been known as owner of the receiver shops and as a moneylender. It never failed to spark a look of surprise, followed by a desire to please. This occasion was no different.
The shopkeeper’s eyes rounded, then his lids fluttered. “How may I help you?”
Beatrix opened the bag on her hip and removed the first item, a bracelet she’d stolen a few years before. “This is just one of many items.” She wanted to see what he would offer before she showed him the lot.
He picked up the bracelet and held it next to a lantern set on one side of the counter. Reaching under the counter, he pulled out a magnifying glass that he used to study the piece. “These diamonds are real.”
“Yes.”
Lowering the glass, he blew out a breath and offered her an exceedingly fair price.
Feeling confident, she removed the rest of her items, a few at a time. He bought every single one of them.
After she’d tucked the money away into an interior pocket of her coat, she thanked him. “Do you know of a jeweler whom I could trust to make me a demi-parure of very convincing paste emeralds?”
The man grinned. “I do indeed. My brother-in-law is the very best. No one will know they aren’t authentic. His shop is just up the street. Marvin’s. Turn right.”
“Excellent, thank you.” Beatrix turned and left the shop, inclining her head toward the young man near the door as she passed.
Beatrix went to the right up Saffron Hill and came across Marvin’s a short distance away. Tucked between a printer and a clothing resale shop, the jeweler’s space was narrow with a rickety door that Beatrix worried might fall off its hinges as she stepped inside. If she hadn’t been referred to this place, she would have likely turned and left.
Instead, she continued inside. Several lanterns burned inside the shop and cast eerie shadows. There was no one in sight.
“Good afternoon?” Beatrix again lowered her voice in an attempt to sound masculine. She strolled to a glass case that displayed several items of jewelry. A necklace with a large pendant of coral caught her eye. A flower was carved into the coral, which was a deep red.
Her call was answered by the scuff of shuffling feet. Beatrix turned her head to see a tall but slightly stooped man come from behind a curtain hanging in a doorway. He squinted at Beatrix as he moved toward her.
She straightened next to the glass case. “Your brother-in-law sent me. I would like to commission a demi-parure of paste jewelry.”
“Paste?”
She nodded. “To look like emeralds. A necklace, earrings, and a bracelet.”
“I have something that will suit.” He began to pivot.
Taking two large steps toward him, she held up her hand. “No, I need you to make the set to my specifications.”
His brow creased as he studied her a moment. “All right. I’ll need you to describe what you want while I draw it.” He waved her toward a table on the left side of the shop. Two sconces burned over it, providing the brightest space in the shop.
There were two chairs, and as she sat down, she realized it wasn’t a table but a desk. After he took the other chair, he opened a drawer and removed a piece of parchment and a pencil. Licking the end of the implement, he looked at her in expectation.
Beatrix described what she wanted in exacting detail. As she spoke, he sketched the pieces, giving them form before her eyes.
“Like this?”
“Perfect, thank you. How much?”
He gave her a price that was well within what she’d just gotten at the receiver shop.
“When will they be ready?”
“In a week.”
She frowned. Reaching into her coat, she took out most of the money from the receiver shop and laid it on the table. “Can you have them for me tomorrow?”
He looked down at the money before nodding at her. “Come after five.”
“Half now and half tomorrow.” She scooped up half the money and put it back into her coat before rising.
He looked up at her, keen interest gleaming in his gaze. “What do you want them for, miss?”
Beatrix exhaled and wondered if the shopkeeper at The Golden Lion