to link behind his neck. A day’s growth of beard shadowed the man’s dark, handsome face; his coat was torn, his cravat gone, his breeches and shirt smeared with blood and dirt. Yates obviously hadn’t come here without a struggle.
“So have you come to gloat too?” he said, his voice rough.
“Actually, I’m here to help.”
An indecipherable expression flitted across the man’s face before being carefully hidden away. “Did Kat ask you—”
Sebastian shook his head. “I haven’t seen her yet.” He pulled forward the room’s sole chair, a straight-backed spindly thing that swayed ominously when it took his weight. “Tell me what happened.”
Yates gave a bitter laugh. “You’re married to the daughter of my worst enemy. Give me one good reason why I should trust you.”
Sebastian shrugged and pushed to his feet. “Suit yourself. Although I will point out that Jarvis happens to be my worst enemy too. And from what I’m hearing, the way things stand now, I’m the only chance you have.”
For a long moment, Yates held his gaze. Then he blew out a painful breath and brought up a hand to shade his eyes. “Sit down. Please.”
Sebastian sat. “They tell me you were found bending over Eisler’s body. Is that true?”
“It is. But I swear to God, he was dead when I found him.” He scrubbed his hands down over his face. “How much do you know about Daniel Eisler?”
“Not a bloody thing.”
“He is—or I suppose I should say, he was one of the biggest diamond merchants in London. Prinny did business with him, as did most of the royal dukes. I’ve heard it said he even sold Napoléon the diamond necklace he presented to the Empress Marie Louise as a wedding present.”
“So he still traded with the French?”
“Of course he did. They all do, you know. The Continental System and the Orders in Council are inconveniences, but nothing more.” Yates summoned up a ghost of a smile. “That’s why God invented smugglers.”
“Which is where you come in, I presume?”
Yates nodded. “Most of Eisler’s diamonds came from Brazil, through a special arrangement he had with the Portuguese. But he also had agents buying up gems across Europe. A lot of once-wealthy people there are facing ruin, which means they’re looking to raise money any way they can.”
“Selling the family jewels being one of those ways?”
“Yes.”
Sebastian studied the other man’s tired, strained face. “So what happened last night?”
“I went to Eisler’s house to finalize the details of an upcoming transaction. I’d just knocked on the door when I heard the sound of a pistol shot from inside the house. The door was off the latch, so I pushed it open and like a bloody fool went rushing in.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why put yourself at risk of being shot too?”
Yates stared back at him, his eyes narrowed, the muscles along his jaw working. “If you were standing on the steps of a business acquaintance’s house and heard the sound of a shot from inside, would you run away?”
Sebastian smiled. “No.”
“Exactly.”
“Where were Eisler’s servants while all this was going on?”
“The man was a bloody miser. He lived in a decrepit old Tudor house that was falling down around his ears and retained only an ancient couple who tottered off to bed every night after dinner. Campbell, I think their name is. As far as I know, they slept through the whole thing. I sure as hell never saw them.”
“What time did this happen?”
“About half past eight.”
“So it was dark?”
“It was, yes. He’d left one measly candlestick burning on a table in the entry, but I could see more light coming from the parlor just to the right of the stairs. That’s where I found him, sprawled some eight or ten feet inside the room. His chest was a bloody mess, but I went to see if by some chance he still lived. I was just leaning over him when a man came barreling in behind me and started screeching, ‘What have you done? Good God, you’ve killed him!’ I said, ‘What the devil are you talking about? I found him like this.’ But the bloody idiot was already rushing off yelling ‘murder’ and calling loudly for the watch. So then I did the second stupid thing of the evening: Rather than stick around to explain myself to the constables, I ran. I didn’t realize the bastard knew who I was.”
“And who was he?”
“Turns out he’s Eisler’s nephew—a man by the name of Samuel Perlman.”
Sebastian went to stare thoughtfully out the