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“Not at all.” His hold on her arm tightened to bruising. “I merely point out that it’s in your best interests to sell me the jewel. The treasure belongs in a great collection, not hidden in a drawer in a shabby vicarage.”

Think, Genevieve, think. “If… if you reveal my father isn’t the author of the articles, as his patron you risk looking a fool, my lord.”

She caught a flash of displeasure in his deep-set eyes. He never appreciated opposition. “Not so much of a fool as the vicar will, my dear. And after all, I have a great name to save me from becoming a laughingstock.”

>

“Is there some trouble, Miss Barrett?”

Mr. Evans might be a rogue, but at his question, her heart leaped with relief. He looked wonderful standing in the doorway, tall and strong. He was dressed for riding. From one leather-gloved hand, a crop dangled in unspoken threat.

“What business is this of yours, Evans?” Lord Neville snarled.

“None whatsoever,” Mr. Evans said mildly, sauntering into the study. He cast a pointed glance at Lord Neville’s grip on Genevieve’s arm. Under that calm blue gaze, Lord Neville retreated. Genevieve snatched a shaky breath and slumped into her chair.

Lord Neville cast Mr. Evans a disparaging glare before he turned to Genevieve. “I can’t be easy with such a valuable artifact lying unprotected. If you trust the Harmsworth Jewel to my keeping, I’ll hold it safe until you decide on its disposal.”

Until she decided to sell it to him, he meant. Genevieve wasn’t so green that she misunderstood. Was she wrong to deny him? Twenty thousand guineas was more money than she’d see in a lifetime. And her father’s secret would remain safe if she agreed. But every atom revolted at the idea of giving the jewel to the acquisitive lord.

“It’s been safe until now.”

“Not so, dear lady. What about the blackguard who broke in?”

How she wished he’d stop calling her dear lady. Deliberately she didn’t glance at Mr. Evans. “I chased him off.”

“Next time, you mightn’t be so lucky,” Lord Neville said.

She stood. “I must tidy myself before I go downstairs.”

It was a dismissal. He must know she rarely bothered with her appearance before attending her father. For a moment, she wasn’t sure that his lordship would go. But a glance at Mr. Evans seemed to convince him that right now, his plans to obtain the jewel wouldn’t thrive.

She experienced a reluctant flash of gratitude that she hadn’t seen Mr. Evans banished as a thief. Right now, his presence provided the only barrier between her and his lordship. The ache in her arm indicated that when Lord Neville wanted something, he wasn’t always careful about how he got it.

“We’ll discuss this issue once you’ve had time to think,” his lordship said.

She could have told Lord Neville that he didn’t need to emphasize the threat. Grimly she was aware that the matter wouldn’t rest there. He was dogged in acquiring whatever took his fancy. And he’d taken a powerful fancy to the jewel.

“Coming, Evans?” Lord Neville clomped toward the door.

“I need a wash. I stink of the stables,” he said amiably, although his gaze remained watchful.

“Indeed.” Lord Neville’s eyebrows arched at Mr. Evans’s bluntness. He cast one last glance at Genevieve. “You are in many ways naïve, Genevieve. You’d do well to heed more worldly heads.”

Thanks to Mr. Evans and Lord Neville, she became less naïve by the moment. “I won’t change my mind, my lord.”

“We’ll see.” He gave Mr. Evans a frosty nod as he left. “Evans.”

Ignoring Genevieve’s forbidding manner, Mr. Evans strolled across to lean on the corner of her desk. “What did the old mackerel want?”

“The Harmsworth Jewel.” She aimed a pointed glare at him. Men! She’d happily consign the whole sex to the Bristol Channel and dance a hornpipe as they sank beneath the waves.

She still hadn’t absolved Mr. Evans of plotting to steal the jewel, although she couldn’t imagine why, if he wanted it, he hadn’t taken it. After all, the jewel had been in her desk drawer until this morning. A man of Mr. Evans’s initiative would make short work of the lock.

“And you, of course.”

She hissed with irritation and pushed her chair back against the wall. Impossible to forget that he’d seen her naked. Humiliation pricked her nerves. To think only moments ago, she’d welcomed his appearance. “Don’t be absurd.”

He shrugged. “I suffer the same malady. I recognize it in another.”


Tags: Anna Campbell Sons of Sin Romance