“Tonight, your recklessness almost got you killed,” he agreed. “But your intentions are always honourable. They come from a place of goodness, and no one can condemn you for that.”
“No,” she breathed.
After a brief pause, she focused her attention on the other jewel-encrusted box beneath the boards. With care, she lifted it out of its hiding place and opened the lid.
“Is there anything missing?” Valentine asked with some hesitation.
Ava examined the contents. “Not that I can tell.”
A sudden flicker in the corner of her eye drew her gaze back to the hollow space. Curious, she reached down and ferreted around amid the dust and cobwebs. A gasp caught in her throat when her hand settled on a ring.
“Blessed saints!” She retrieved the pink diamond ring and stared at the rectangular-shaped stone, a burst of elation stealing her breath. “I—I don’t understand. It must have fallen out of the box.”
Valentine crouched beside her. “Is that the ring you thought your brother had given to Lady Durrant?”
“It is,” she replied with an air of wonder. “It is the only reason I went to Lord Rockford’s ball.”
“Then I am glad it was missing for a time.”
Ava met his gaze. “You are?”
“Else, when would we ever have danced the waltz?”
The memory of the first time he held her in his arms brought a flush of heat to her cheeks. “And what a wonderful dance it was.” How could she be angry at her brother when his wild antics had brought them together?
A sudden pang of guilt hit her squarely in the chest. Jonathan had protested his innocence and yet she had found it impossible to believe him. He might be reckless with his own funds, but he had not stolen into her room and helped himself to her treasures.
And neither had the intruder.
Which begged the question—what was the rogue searching for?
And if it was Mr Cassiel, who was his female accomplice?
“Earlier, when Mrs Stagg described the intruder,” Ava began as she returned the ring to the box, closed the lid and placed it back beneath the board, “it was as though you recognised him.”
Valentine handed her the box of coloured stones and then came to his feet. “There are things we need to discuss.” His weary sigh spoke of a burden. “About my mother’s missing ruby, about the fact I witnessed the same man who broke into this house follow you to the pawnbroker.”
Ava’s heart lurched. “Mr Cassiel followed me to Grafton Street?”
“What?” Valentine frowned. “The man your housekeeper described is the mystic?”
“Yes. I am certain of it.” Doubt crept into her mind. She had been certain Jonathan had stolen her ring, too. “But what purpose would he have for committing such a terrible act?”
Valentine dragged his hand down his face and rubbed his jaw. “That is what we must ascertain.” He reached out to her. “Come. I am not leaving you here. You’re coming home with me.”
“What? Tonight?” Heavens, this man was full of surprises.
“Yes, tonight.”
“But—”
“Do you not want to stay with me, Ava?”
A nervous tickle fluttered up from her stomach to her throat. When he spoke in such a sensual tone how could a woman resist? “Yes, of course. But I cannot leave the servants, not after what happened here this evening.”
“Then we will lock the house and take them with us.”
“Oh.”