Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,87
go to The Open Locket. I don’t know exactly where the shop is located, though I do remember a heart-shaped locket graces the doorway. This should be enough for us to find it.”
*
Garrett took Madeleine’s hand and threaded his way through the crowd, moving down the street to where Ebony awaited. The weak sunshine threatened to break through the cloud cover at any moment. He tossed a coin to the lad that had kept watch of his horse and then placed Madeleine in the saddle. She stroked Ebony’s mane fondly. Garrett climbed behind her and she tensed as he put his arm about her waist.
“No, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “Please. Do not reject me.”
She turned and met his eyes. “Oh, Garrett. How can you forgive me? There’s still so much you don’t know.”
He brushed his lips gently across her mouth, blocking out the world for a short moment.
As they made their way across London, he asked, “How’s your mother doing?”
She flushed a deep pink. “So Coster told, did he? I didn’t think he’d stay quiet forever but I gave him more credit than I should have. He broke much too fast.”
She looked up at him with sudden concern. “You weren’t too hard on him, I hope. He really is a decent sort.”
“I will deal with Coster when we return to Stanbury. By the way, where’s my horse?”
She gave him a sheepish glance. “Sold,” she squeaked out. “I asked for a poor nag, Garrett. Not one up to your usual standards. The brooch I left was worth far more than the horse.”
“Where does your jewelry come from, Madeleine? I thought I’d confiscated it all.”
“Oh, really?” she replied frostily, but she refused to answer him when he pressed her.
They rode Ebony in silence after that, stopping thrice to ask directions. Eventually, they located the shop. The balding jeweler there was delighted to see customers.
“No one’s buying or selling these days with the typhus around,” he confided to them. “I’m glad to have your company. Come, tell me what I may show you. Perhaps a ring for the lovely maid?”
Garrett said, “We’d like to inquire about a necklace purchased here some time ago.”
“About two and a half years,” Madeleine added.
The shopkeeper frowned. “That’s a long time to remember a certain piece.”
“Here,” Garrett said, placing the necklace on the counter.
The man smiled immediately, his yellowed teeth glowing as much as his eyes. “Of course. The lion clasp. I remember how unusual I thought it was at the time.” He picked up the necklace and studied it carefully. “Yes,” he confirmed, “I know this piece.”
“Do you have any knowledge of who might have come in to sell it? A man? A woman?” Garrett glanced at Madeleine as he asked, “Or do you remember who bought it?”
She flinched at his words. “I don’t remember who purchased it my lord but I do recall the seller.” The jeweler fingered the clasp as he spoke. “I thought it strange that one such as he would have access to a piece so fine and unusual but he said he was selling it for his mistress who was in great need.”
“Can you describe him?” Garrett pressed.
“Oh, easily, my lord. The man had only one eye. Wore a patch over the other. He had sandy red hair and a reddish beard. I remember him quite well.”
Garrett grew pale at the description. He gripped the counter for support.
“Garrett?” Madeleine took hold of his forearm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “Thank you.” He placed a coin on the tabletop for the jeweler then turned and led them outside.
The afternoon sun had dipped below the surrounding buildings, leaving them in the cool shadows of the October day.
“I know this man,” he told Madeleine. “He used to be my head stableman. A lazy, shiftless drunk. Because his wife was quite ill and they had several children, I reluctantly kept him on but I demoted him.” He snarled. “I cannot wait to get my hands upon him.”
They had only taken a few steps when a man stepped from a narrow alley. “Gimme yer jewels!” he barked.
Madeleine stammered, “But I have none.”
“Nay,” the thief said. “I just seen ye leave Thomas’ place. Ye’re bound to have some bauble.”
The thief pulled a knife from nowhere. With a quick motion, he sliced Garrett’s upper thigh. A bright, crimson line appeared and Garrett gasped in pain and outrage.
“You have chosen the wrong man to tangle with, my friend.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Garrett slammed his fist into the