“Of course, you rushed inside to see.”
She stiffened at his disapproving tone. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
His response wouldn’t lift his shaky credit with her, but he needed to say it. “You’re reckless to thrust yourself into danger. How many men were there?”
“Two.”
Dread tasted pungent in his mouth as he pictured what could have happened. “Did you recognize them?”
“No.” She paused. “I only caught a glimpse. They pushed past then ran away.”
“So you decided to chase them armed only with a broom?”
She flushed. “I couldn’t let them escape.” She spoke with an edge. “Although of course I did. Did you see anyone in the woods?”
“No. But just before I met you, Sirius took off after something. These robbers want the jewel.”
She frowned. “That’s a rash assumption. I know you do, but that doesn’t mean the whole world does.”
“It’s the most valuable item in the vicarage, unless there’s some hoard I don’t know about.”
“The library is full of rare manuscripts.”
“Which argues a specialist’s knowledge.” His eyes sharpened. “Who knows you’ve got the jewel?”
There was a bristling pause as though she meant to pursue the argument. Then she spoke in a flat voice. “My father. You. Dr. Partridge at the Ashmolean. Sir Richard Harmsworth. Lady Bellfield’s solicitors. Lord Neville. Perhaps my father mentioned it to a colleague. He conducts extensive international correspondence.”
“It’s Fairbrother.”
“Surely not.” She frowned as she considered Richard’s idea. “Lord Neville is a rich man with a family name to protect. Why risk ruin? If he steals the jewel, he could never display it.”
“But he wants it.” And you.
“He offered to buy it. I told him no.”
“And then he proposes marriage, Genevieve?” Richard should call her Miss Barrett, but when she stood before him beautiful and ruffled and in need of protection, she was Genevieve. Lovely, warm, sensual Genevieve.
She scowled, folding her arms. “How do you know that?”
He couldn’t help noticing how the stance pressed her full breasts against her blue dress. “The vicar told me.”
“My father had no right to share that information with a stranger,” she snapped.
He suff
ered a pang at hearing himself labeled a stranger. “How long ago did Lord Neville discover you had the jewel? Was it that morning I stopped him bullying you?”
“He wasn’t bullying me,” she said without conviction. “Or no more than you do. Are you suggesting he only wants to marry me to get the jewel?”
“No.” Richard had seen how the older man looked at Genevieve. With lust and a disturbing air of ownership.
Genevieve regarded Richard doubtfully as though expecting him to say more. He realized that he should ask about the jewel. Bugger, Cam was right about his confused priorities. “Did the thieves find it?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He told himself that he was more relieved about the jewel’s safety than Genevieve’s. Not even he believed that. “They searched your study. Doesn’t that tell you they’re targeting the jewel?”
“If you imagine I’ve discounted the coincidence of your arrival with the criminal classes invading our unexceptional vicarage, I’d advise you to think again, Mr. Evans.”