Chapter Twenty-Five
Alice took the mysterious ring Jack found to an expert.
Daisy Tucker had a fine eye for antique jewelry and managed the gift shop at the Tucker Inn located in downtown Williamsburg.
The three-room gallery was much more than a mere “gift shop.” One room specialized in authentic colonial antiques, another in high-end gifts and clothing, and the final room sold estate jewelry.
“It’s clearly a signet ring,” Daisy said from her position behind the jewelry counter.
Alice nodded. “It had to have been hidden in that fireplace since the Roost was first built. It was beneath the lintel stone, and whoever put it there never wanted it to be found.”
Daisy scrutinized the heavy, masculine ring with a jeweler’s loupe for a better view of the coat of arms pressed into the flat bezel of the ring.
In olden days, a coat of arms identified the wearer’s family lineage and their loyalty with tiny symbolic markings.
The coat of arms on this ring featured six tiny acorns in a half-circle above the rearing stag.
The shank of the ring was etched with a scalloped shell pattern.
“Do you know what the acorns mean?” Alice asked.
“I have no idea, but they keep track of these things in England,” Daisy replied. “The College of Arms in London is the official authority for issuing coats of arms and tracking related symbols. It’s our first place to check.”
Alice hoped to find a quick answer at the College of Arms website, but quickly ran out of gas.
According to the website, there were thousands of English family crests dating back to the twelfth century, and identifying a crest usually required the help of a specialist. A search could be initiated by submitting a series of photographs and paying a deposit.
Alice was used to leaning on specialists for research like this. She placed the ring on a velvet pad to take several photographs from all angles. After uploading them to the website, she paid a deposit with her credit card and hit send to initiate the search.
“Do you know how long it will take to get an answer?” Daisy asked once Alice returned the ring to her purse.
“About two weeks,” she said. “Why are you looking so strange?”
Daisy bit her lip and paced before the case of Victorian cameo brooches. “Well,” she said reluctantly, “I know Jack bought the Roost from Kingsley in some sort of underhanded deal, but I don’t think it included the contents of the Roost, did it?”
Alice blanched at the implied audacity of the statement.
The deal happened because the Tuckers hadn’t been honest about their finances, and Jack kept them all out of court by agreeing to a quick settlement instead of seeking criminal charges.
Alice was probably the least confrontational person in the state of Virginia, but she wasn’t going to let Daisy claim this ring.
“It cost Jack sixty thousand dollars to pay off the mortgage Kingsley hid from him. He is entitled to everything on those five acres, including the ring. Jack plays hardball, and you’ll poke a sleeping dragon if you push this.”
Daisy giggled and gave Alice’s shoulder a friendly nudge. “Don’t mind me,” Daisy said. “No respectable Southern woman can resist making a play for a bit of heirloom jewelry. Forget I said anything.”
Alice was still thinking about the incident as she prepared dinner at her townhouse for Jack.
She’d made chicken salad sandwiches with the crusts cut off because they were his favorite.
The spinach salad came from her own backyard, with freshly picked spinach leaves, red onions, and a little raspberry vinaigrette dressing.
He probably wouldn’t notice that the blue hobnail drinking glasses perfectly coordinated with the Spode dishes.
What man would? She didn’t care. This was going to be one of the last evening meals she would make for Jack, and she wanted it to be perfect.
He would be leaving for Japan at the end of the week, and she’d probably never see him again.
The rat-a-tat-tat at the door banished her gloomy thoughts. She fairly skipped to the door and flung it open. Jack greeted her with one of those devilish smiles and a heart-stopping kiss. She was grinning by the time he lifted his head.
“What smells so good?”
“Blueberry pie, but I’ve got chicken salad sandwiches and a spinach salad first.”
He kissed her again. “Sounds great.”
As expected, he didn’t comment on the table layout or compliment the linen napkins she took out of storage. He devoured the meal like a hungry wolf, but that was fine. She liked a man with a healthy appetite.
He was still shoveling down the blueberry pie when she set the gold signet ring on the table. “I’ve sent a request to London to ask for identification of this family crest,” she said. “The answer might take a couple of weeks to get here.”
When she warned Jack that Daisy suggested the ring might belong to the Tuckers, he shoved the ring onto his finger. “She’ll have to pry it off me. That woman has a lot of nerve.”
“Don’t think badly of her,” Alice said. “Antique jewelry brings out the worst in Southern belles, but I set her straight about who owns it.”
“How much do you think it’s worth?”
Alice straightened. “I have no idea, but you’re not thinking of selling it, are you?”
“Not until I learn the story behind it. Once we can figure out who it belonged to, it will probably make it even more valuable.”
She rocked back in her seat. “How can you even think about selling something this priceless?”
“Whoa . . . Hang on to your horses, Professor. You can do whatever research you want with it, but once we know where it came from and how it got into that fireplace, of course I’m going to sell it. I’m up to my eyeballs in debt and can’t afford to overlook a windfall like this.”
Not everyone valued the historic heritage of Virginia, but to sell an extraordinary relic was unthinkable. “Don’t be hasty, Jack. Maybe I can find a buyer who will donate it to a museum. It shouldn’t disappear into some rich person’s private collection.”
Jack shrugged. “So long as that rich person can pay the highest bid, I’ll be happy to turn it over. Just get your research done before I go to Japan because I could use the cash.”
“Don’t you know how short-sighted and venal that sounds?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t even know what ‘venal’ means, but I’m guessing it’s not good.”
“It means a seedy and self-interested desire to make money. Jack! Be patient. This ring is priceless and belongs right here in the Tidewater.” She clasped the arms of her chair to stop her hands from shaking. Jack had that angry bulldog look that made her want to shrink.
“Well, princess . . . you and I grew up in different neighborhoods. I didn’t have sailing lessons or summers in France. I grew up with foster care and food stamps and medical bills I couldn’t pay, and hanging on to a useless gold ring doesn’t fit into my portfolio. Got it?”
She shot to her feet, turning her back on him to head into the kitchen. A quick squirt of dishwashing liquid and a jet of hot water pouring from the spigot gave her an excuse not to look at him. If she did, she might cry, and she needed to gather her thoughts.
Why did she keep falling in love with inappropriate men? Jack didn’t believe in setting down roots; he believed in building a bank account. Despite everything they’d shared over this magical summer and autumn, he was going to do exactly as he always said and pull up his stakes to leave.
She cut off the hot water but still couldn’t face him.
She braced her hands on the cool porcelain sink, staring at the kitchen window that normally overlooked her herb garden, but because it was night and the lights were on, it was like a mirror and all she could see was Jack’s reflection standing behind her.
He stood motionless with his arms folded; his face grim.
“Are you going to live the rest of your life like this?” she asked. “Never putting down roots, never making real friends or forming a family?”
Nothing but silence came from behind. She grabbed a sponge and began aimlessly sloshing soapy water over a salad bowl.
“Falling in love and setting down roots is scary. I’m scared to death at this very moment because I know you’re probably going to reject me, and that’s going to hurt, but I’m willing to risk it. ”
She met his gaze in the window’s reflection. He still hadn’t moved a muscle, but his expression was pained.
“Alice, I need to get away from you.”
She turned around to face him. “Do I make your life that miserable?”
“No, you’ve made it wonderful, and you know that. You also know that I live my life on the road and have no intention of ever settling down. I’ve always been honest about that.”
“You don’t have to live like a nomad forever,” she choked out. “Stay here and run the golf course.”
“And see you every day?” She flinched, and he softened his tone.
“Alice, we’re not going to get across the finish line together.
You deserve someone better than me who will be happy to settle down and build a big, happy family with you.
I don’t want to stand on the sidelines and watch.
Next week I’m leaving for Japan, and I won’t come back. ”
The anguish in his voice was a dead giveaway that he was struggling. Maybe all he needed was the confidence that he could stay. “Do you really want to go through the rest of your life with no family? No roots?”
He nodded. “Just because I’m not like you doesn’t make it wrong.”
She sighed, debating whether she should bring up the heart of the problem. For all his self-confidence and bravado, Jack feared the emotional risk of forming ties, so he took pride in his itinerant lifestyle and never looked back.
She scrambled for the words to help him view the world through a different lens.
“You went through a lot of rejection while growing up,” she said, venturing cautiously into dangerous territory.
“I can understand that the thought of forming lasting ties is a risk, but living like a nomad is a bigger one. Don’t you want to be part of a family?
Part of a community? The human race isn’t meant to—”
“You know what, Alice? Shut up. Shut the heck up and quit nagging. Settling down isn’t for everyone, and I don’t see the world through rose-colored glasses.”
“Maybe you should try it.”
Her cell phone buzzed from its position on the kitchen counter, and Sebastian’s name flashed on the screen.
“Don’t answer it,” Jack said.
She reached for a towel to dry her hands and strode toward the phone.
“Alice! Don’t answer it.”
Who was he to give her orders? He was on his way to Japan and out of her life. She picked up the phone, tapped the button, and held it to her ear. “Hey, Sebastian,” she said, staring straight at Jack.
“Hello, gorgeous. Can I take you out to dinner?”
The phone wasn’t on speaker, but given the furious look from Jack, he overheard.
“Sorry, I’ve already eaten.”
Jack grabbed the phone and hung up the call.
“You had no right to do that,” she sputtered.
“Yes, I did.”
She stormed over to the globe in the corner and whirled it to show Japan.
“There!” she said, landing her finger on the country that was literally on the other side of the world.
“You just said you can’t wait to go to Japan, so I don’t see any reason I can’t speak with a man whose friendship I value and who actually wants to be with me. ”
“He’s a drug addict and always will be.”
“He’s an imperfect human being, and aren’t we all.”
Jack scoffed. “You’re not,” he taunted. “Look at this place. Jane Austen would feel right at home here with your lace doilies and homemade jam, all tied up with a neat little bow. Life isn’t a Jane Austen novel, and I’m not one of her buttoned-up heroes.
I’m a flesh-and-blood man, Alice, not some fantasy figure in a cravat. ”
Alice flinched. What was so wrong in striving to be perfect? Striving for a life above the crass behavior and loose morals of the day? Anger boiled over and she couldn’t contain it any longer.
“Oh shut up! I’m done listening to your insults. The door is over there—you can leave.”
Jack scooped up the signet ring and stormed from the room, slamming the door on his way out.