Chapter Five
Phineas watched Lady Eleanor walk from the shop, admiring the elegant line of her back, the proud tilt of her head, and her graceful stride.
She was truly stunning. He’d thought her beautiful beyond measure at his sister’s ball.
But here in the muted light of Mishra’s shop, her loveliness had struck him even more acutely.
As had her voice, filled with silky warmth.
But her manner was curious. Tentative and resistant. Tense and…shielded. Not nearly as distressed and panicked as she’d been the last time he saw her, but still… He couldn’t help but wonder at it.
“The lady is not for a scoundrel like you,” Mr. Mishra chided firmly, breaking into Phin’s intimate thoughts.
Turning back to the man he’d known for nearly seven years, Phin lifted his brows as humor curled his lips.
Though he was inclined to agree, he couldn’t let such an insult go without at least some attempt at defending himself.
“A scoundrel? You know well enough that I come from a fine, upstanding family.” He grinned, unable to keep up the ruse of thinking any of that mattered. “Most ladies think me rather dashing.”
“Is that another word for reckless?” Mishra asked irreverently. Then he gave a subtle bobble of his head. “You are of a good family, yes. But you, my lord, are a wayfaring rascal. A man with no purpose.”
“I’ve got purpose,” Phineas argued good-naturedly. “It is my life’s goal to experience the world and live as broad and big as possible. Surely, that counts as an honorable pursuit? Noble, even.”
Mishra’s expression was decidedly unimpressed as he replied, “That lady is granddaughter to a princess from one of the most revered and ancient families of my country. And if that isn’t quite enough—though it should be—her father and her mother’s father are both English dukes.”
“Hmm,” Phineas replied, his mouth pressing into a rueful smile, acknowledging the elite pedigree. “I see what you mean.”
Mishra nodded, assured that his point was well-made, as he glanced back to the drawing on the table. Phin followed his gaze and wished he’d managed to do the necklace greater justice. It was impossible for a sketch to properly display the magnificence of the piece.
But—despite Mishra’s opinion of him—he was not quite so reckless or careless that he’d wander the streets of London with the invaluable fortune tucked into his pocket. The drawing would have to do, for now.
“Is there anything you can tell me about this piece?” he asked.
Mishra made a sound in his throat and leaned closer. He extended a finger to trace the pattern of jewels along the triple strands before he almost deferentially circled the honeybee design featured in the center.
“What is this?” There was a weighted thread of awe in the man’s lowered voice.
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”
Mishra glanced up at him and there was an odd glimmer in his dark eyes and a subtle furrow between his brows.
“It is an honest likeness?”
Phin shrugged. “As best I could manage.”
His words caused Mishra’s brows to lift dramatically as his eyes widened. “You drew this? So…you have seen this item? You’ve had it in your possession?”
A brief flicker of caution danced through Phin’s blood, but he’d known Mishra a long time. His trust in the man had been forged through many precarious situations.
“I have,” he answered, holding the other man’s stare. “Still do.”
Mishra’s expression darkened as he leaned closer. “Keep it safe, my lord. An item like this…” He let the words trail off as his head bobbed side to side and he released a sigh. “There will be many who desire it.”
“Do you know anything about it?”
Mishra returned his attention to the drawing as he replied.
“It’s certainly a bridal necklace. Very traditional in design.
The jewels…I imagine it holds rubies, emeralds, diamonds.
” He listed the precious stones as he moved his fingertip gently over the drawing, as though imagining where each type of stone would be set.
And he wasn’t wrong. “Perhaps lapis lazuli, pearls, and coral…” he added before circling the honeybee, which had been fashioned of diamonds and yellow sapphires.
“This, here, is a symbol of divinity. Many deities are associated with the honeybee. There are the nectar-born ones, Vishnu and Krishna. And others…Bhramari. Kama. It’s a symbol of love—both sacred and erotic. ”
“Fitting for bridal adornment,” Phin observed.
Mishra looked up with a furrow in his brows. “More than that, however, it is likely that it was taken as a family symbol to honor a sacred Devi.” He gave a small start and tilted his head as his scowl deepened. “In fact…” He glanced toward the front of the shop, his body suddenly tense and alert.
“What is it?” Phin asked, sensing a significant shift in the man’s manner.
Mishra continued to stare at the front door with a dark stare and a distracted expression. Then he shook his head. “That would be…” he muttered beneath his breath.
“What?” Phin pressed, having never seen his friend behave so strangely.
“I must research,” Mishra replied abruptly. “May I keep the drawing?”
“Of course.”
Mishra quickly folded the paper and tucked it into a pocket of his trousers. Then he looked back to Phin with a sharp, earnest expression. “This must be handled carefully. Who else knows you have this?”
“Just the two of us and the man who sent it to me. At least…as far as I know.”
Mishra nodded, his expression firm, then he quickly ushered Phin back through the shop. Opening the front door, he glanced out over the lane before nodding.
Amused by the man’s dramatic response, Phineas smiled as he stepped outside. But when he turned back, intending to ask when he might expect to hear from him, the door was firmly closed in his face. Then he heard the lock turn as Mishra closed the shop. In the middle of the day.
*
Phineas reassessed his assumption that Mishra was being unnecessarily cautious when he returned home to discover his private rooms had been ransacked.
That someone had dared to breach his home in the light of day and none of his household had even been aware of the break-in, suggested the thieves were highly experienced professionals.
As he wandered through the colossal mess that had been made of his bedroom, adjoining sitting room, and personal study, he noted how the would-be thieves had not bothered to conceal the evidence of their attempt. His possessions were tossed about in a disastrous mess.
And yet…a cursory assessment suggested that they hadn’t actually taken anything.
His collection of exquisite rare books remained practically untouched.
He didn’t possess much in terms of jewels or other valuable accoutrements, but what he did have was all still there.
Even the handful of gold coins he’d left scattered on his valet stand was undisturbed.
Not just some random burglary, then.
A targeted search. And a warning, perhaps.
With a scowl, he returned to his bedroom and strode directly to the decorative trunk that sat at the foot of his bed.
It was one of the first things he’d purchased for himself during his grand tour as a young man—the traditional journey of maturation and exploration that had inspired his insatiable wanderlust.
Large enough to easily fit a grown man inside, the trunk had traveled with him over endless lands, through dozens of countries and nearly every continent.
Withdrawing his beloved knife from his boot, he lowered to a knee, but he didn’t bother opening the lid.
He could already see that the valuable textiles he kept inside had been tossed to the floor in handfuls and heaps.
Instead, he trailed his fingertips gently over the elaborately carved motifs that adorned the lid until he reached the corner where a talented craftsman had carved a cluster of oak leaves and acorns.
With the tip of his knife, he—gently and very carefully so as not to leave even the slightest bit of scarring on the wood—pried loose one of the leaves and palmed it in his hand.
Returning the knife to his boot, he stalked back to his personal study where he sat at his desk and reached for the wooden cigar box he kept off to one side.
It was also carved with oak leaves and acorns in a style that perfectly matched the trunk.
When he opened the box the scent of tobacco drifted into the air.
The cigars were nestled neatly within. With a soft hum of satisfaction, he closed the box again and tipped it upside down, resting it on its lid.
On the bottom was a small, oddly-shaped notch in the corner.
A notch that perfectly fit the stem of his carved oak leaf, and which, when the leaf was turned, caused a soft click as the bottom of the box sprung gently open.
Nestled within a bed of cushioned velvet was a large jewelry box.
Though he was relieved to see the box where it should be, Phin was not fully satisfied.
Setting the box on the desk, he opened it to ensure its contents were undisturbed.
The glint and glimmer of dozens of jewels set in the most delicate gold met his eyes.
A sigh slid from his lungs as the tension he’d been holding since returning home slipped free.
With a reverent hand, he lifted the necklace into his hands.
The weight was beginning to feel familiar.
And though he could’ve sat there admiring the piece for hours more, he quickly assured himself it had not been tampered with in any way before returning it to the box and the box to its hiding place.
When the bottom was resecured, he turned the cigar box upright and gave a gentle shake.
There was no odd shifting or subtle sound to suggest the box held anything but cigars.
Finally satisfied, Phin returned it into its usual position on the corner of his desk then leaned back in his chair. Narrowing his eyes as though he could see through the wood to the necklace of gold and jewels nestled within, he sighed.
Then, he tilted his head as a slow smile curved his mouth. “You’re going to be a bit of trouble, aren’t you?” he murmured warmly.
It was extremely likely that whoever had ransacked his rooms had been looking for the necklace.
It seemed Barnaby’s warning had been more a bit of foresight.
That the attempt to steal the necklace had occurred so soon after it landed in Phin’s hands was alarming.
Had the burglars chased the necklace all the way from India?
Or was there someone in London who’d been anticipating its arrival?
He’d need to speak with Iago about implementing the proper measures to ensure any future attempts at finding and stealing the necklace remained unsuccessful. But if he was to effectively protect the artifact, he’d need to know more about it…and those who might be after it.
Hopefully, Mishra would be able to shed some light on the issue.