She snorted. “Those things do matter.” Her voice small, devoid of both the practiced polish and the rough, earthy quality. Blank. Finally, her gaze settled on a gem in the case—some swirly, milky type of stone hiding pinks and blues and purples, an entire sunset shattered and sheltered inside.
“Odd-looking thing,” Atlas said. “Wonder what it’s called.”
“You don’t know?”
“Don’t have much opportunity to ponder over gems.”
“It’s an opal.” She chuckled. “Imagine, a journeyman’s daughter telling a marquess’s brother something like that.”
“Do you ever think of yourself as anything other than a journeyman’s daughter?” She’d said it several times, as if she could only ever be one thing. But wasn’t she a chameleon? Wasn’t she capable of anything? So far, he’d seen it be so. Like that opal, she contained a multitude of colors.
She opened her mouth, closed it, then sauntered off to view another case.
Lost in the opal’s milky swirl, he found it difficult to follow her to the case of emeralds where she stood, bent over for a closer look. But he joined her. His always-too-tight jacket seemed to shrink, and his constant noose of a cravat strangledhim more than usual. He rolled his shoulders, pulled at the strip of linen.
“When will you leave, Lord Atlas?”
Atlas blinked, turned to look at the waiting duchess whose eyes were huge behind her spectacles. They seemed to peer right past his thick skull and see that whisper yelling in his mind, demanding to be heard—no use getting comfortable with Mrs. Bronwen. He was leaving. Briarcliff, England, his family. His wife.
The duchess ripped off her spectacles and repeated herself. “When will you return to Briarcliff?”
“Tomorrow,” he replied, barely feeling the word on his tongue as he returned his gaze to the pristine glass case and its contents. The emeralds blazed beneath the shop light like his betrothed’s eyes. And in them, he discovered the lyrics he’d been hunting for in vain all afternoon.In green I’ll drown, in green I’ll die. Her eyes are like the sea. In green I’ll live, in green I’lllove. If she comes back to me.
The green gems behind the glass turned ash colored.
He slammed his eyes closed, blocking out the sight of the gemstones as the dying fire blacked out the complexion of a lover’s face.
“Lord Atlas?” Mrs. Bronwen’s rich voice in the dark, calling him to join her. But if he opened his eyes, would the darkness remain? “Lord Atlas?”
He’d look a fool if he stood here much longer as if facing a firing squad. He opened his eyes, almost collapsed with relief. There his betrothed stood—red and cream and green, all the colors he feared to lose.
He joined her. “Well?” Good, that had sounded right jovial. “Have you made a sell?”
The duchess beamed. “It is quite the magnificent collection. I do not know if Frampton’s can afford to purchase all of them.We budget for acquiring new stones, of course, and we only keep so much in the safe. But?—”
“I would like some of the gems for my own personal use.” Crestmore pointed to a small pile of glittering blue stones. “I dabble a bit in design and have been looking for excellent sapphires.”
“Everything on the counter,” the duchess said, “we are happy to make an offer for. Everything in the bag, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep. I hope it is not a bother.”
Mrs. Bronwen shook her head. “No bother. Quite the opposite. I am quite grateful.”
“I will consider, as well”—the duchess grinned at Atlas—“a trade. I assume you’re in the market for a ring, Lord Atlas. I saw you eyeing a few pieces. Perhaps I can?—”
“No,” Atlas said.
Clara’s “That’s not necessary” added a harmony to his rejection.
“Ah. I do apologize. I should not have assumed.” The duchess bustled toward the door at the back of the shop. “I’ll return shortly.”
Crestmore watched his wife leave. “Payment will arrive at the Waneborough school within an hour. Do you need it sooner?”
“No, thank you.” Atlas closed the valise and pulled it off the counter.
The duke grinned. “Will the both of you join us for dinner?”
Mrs. Bronwen’s eyes widened. She may have stopped breathing.
“We’ve no time,” Atlas said. “We leave London tomorrow and must prepare.”
