Chapter 8 #2
Quentin snapped her fingers, and Tej brought forward the wooden box taken from Mowbray last night. He presented it to the woman. She tried to open the container, then smirked when it wouldn’t.
“As if a lock of such middling quality provides anything but the most minor of inconveniences.”
She reached into a pocket in her skirts and produced a small leather case. From the case, she pulled out two slim brass rods. Jessica had been amongst the rougher crowds in London. She knew lock picks when they were in play.
As Tej held the box steady for her, Quentin inserted the picks into the brass lock. The woman manipulated them with deft, steady hands. Less than a minute later, there was a gratifying snick, and Quentin straightened. She pocketed her picks.
With a smile of anticipation, Quentin opened the box. She let out a hum of appreciation as she reached into the velvet-lined container.
When she pulled out a necklace of dazzling diamonds with a heavy tear-shaped emerald pendant, Ezra and the men beamed at each other, pleased.
An exclamation of astonishment leapt from Jessica’s lips. She’d known that a wealthy baronet such as Sir Harold Mowbray might be in possession of exceptional jewels, but she’d no notion that her former employer owned gems like this. They had to be worth hundreds, nay, thousands of pounds.
“Haven’t you clapped eyes on these already?” Rhys asked Jessica.
“Mowbray never permitted me to see them. All he said was that they were beyond anything I could ever conceive of, I was to capture the Brody gang to keep them secure, and that they weren’t for the likes of me.”
“The likes of you,” Ezra said with a growl.
The fury on her behalf burning in his eyes made warmth spread through Jessica’s chest.
“You’re in Sir Harold Mowbray’s employ?” Quentin’s gaze was sharp as she lowered the necklace.
“Was,” Jessica corrected her. “The sort of man he was, what he did, how he did it, that was unknown to me.”
“And now that you know,” Quentin pressed, “what do you intend to do with that information?”
“Nothing that will benefit him.”
Jessica’s answer seemed to satisfy the other woman, who placed the necklace back into the small chest before pulling out a pair of matching earbobs.
Returning the earbobs to the box, Quentin removed a leather pouch.
She emptied the contents into her cupped palm, and let out a whistle as diamonds both small and large filled her hand.
They looked like moonlight made solid, bright and shining and glittering.
These, too, she put back into the chest.
“Well?” Ezra demanded.
“Let me work a bit,” Quentin said, “and then I’ll have your answer.”
She took the chest from Tej and strode over to a battered wooden stool. Sitting down on the seat, she used her foot to nudge what appeared to be a box for holding tools closer.
“Bring that to me, love,” she said to Rhys, pointing at a heavy table shoved into the corner.
He carried it over with the ease that still astonished Jessica. It didn’t seem to signify how many times she had examples of the werewolves’ extraordinary strength, they continued to surprise her.
And yet Quentin watched this as though she’d witnessed it many times.
Once Rhys had brought her the table, Quentin set the chest containing the jewels atop it, then opened her tool box.
She pulled out a square of velvet, which she spread out on the wooden surface, and then a series of precise implements, including pliers, tweezers, calipers, and clamps.
She removed her spectacles and stuck a loupe into her right eye before laying the necklace on the velvet and bending over it.
There was silence as Quentin quickly and efficiently disassembled the necklace.
Her hands moved carefully but with speed, breaking apart the bauble into individual gems. Then she turned her focus to the earbobs, giving them the same attention.
Within minutes, an array of gleaming gemstones was arranged on the velvet.
Quentin used her calipers to measure each diamond and emerald. From her box of tools, she pulled out a scale and weighed each piece. She jotted in a tiny notebook, muttering to herself, and then, with a satisfied look, packed everything up again as tidily as a field surgeon.
“Boys,” she said, lacing her fingers together on the tabletop, “today, you have made me a happy woman. These’ll fetch a tidy sum when I take them to Antwerp.”
She stood and reached under her skirts. Several pouches were strapped to her thigh, and she unfastened them. From the pouches, she pulled out handfuls of coins. Not copper or silver, but genuine gold. She set stacks of coins on the table.
Jessica widened her eyes. She’d never seen so much gold in her life.
The men strode forward and examined the stacks of currency. Ezra rubbed his jaw as he counted each pile of coins.
“Content?” Quentin asked wryly.
“I’d hate for you to cheat us, Q,” Ezra said.
The woman placed her hand on the middle of her chest, fixing an affronted look on her face. “So many years between us, and you say such things.”
Ezra’s grave expression dissolved into a roguish grin. “Like accusing my own mother of defrauding me.”
“The hell I’m your mother,” Quentin fired back. “I’m your dear aunt.”
“Maiden aunt?” Tej asked with a smirk. He and Rhys collected the coins, depositing them into a series of canvas pouches they tucked into the wide leather belts at their waists.
Quentin snorted. “Hardly. Just the same, I’m old enough to understand it’s time our appointment’s over. The law might start sniffing around, and I need to be back in London before nightfall.”
“You might need protection,” Jessica said, “if you’re carrying such expensive cargo.”
“No one with half a groat’s worth of wit would ever think to set upon Quentin,” Rhys said confidently. “Not unless they want to carry their bollocks home in a saddlebag.”
“Ah, you boys flatter me so.” Quentin walked forward, her stride direct and confident, as she held out her hand to Jessica. “They’ve never brought a lass before, so I consider myself honored by your presence.”
Jessica took the other woman’s hand, and shook it. “I wish we’d more time to become friends.”
“I’m a better ally than friend, Miss Jessica. May your journeys be either as eventful or uneventful as you desire.”
Before she could press Quentin for anything further, Ezra stepped forward and took Jessica’s hand in his. It was a warm, familiar gesture, but her pulse leapt all the same.
“We’d best be on our way, love,” he murmured.
“Our way where?” she asked pointedly.
“By and by, Lady Vixen.”
Quentin gave another snort. “Fitting name, a fox for wolves.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Let me see your backs, then.”
Moving outside, the day had turned hazy and cool. Ezra released her to go untie the horse.
Standing in the gray afternoon sun, Jessica pulled her caraco jacket closer to ward off the chill. The fabric of the garment was fine, but not especially good at shielding her from the elements.
All at once, warm gray wool engulfed her.
She found herself looking up into Rhys’s beautifully formed face.
He stood close to her as he finished settling his coat around her, tugging the lapels close.
He was so much larger than her that the coat hung past her knees and the wide cuffs, adorned with leather-covered buttons, completely covered her hands.
They looked at each other, and her fingers twitched with the urge to touch the birthmark close to his nose. The little spot was like Venus’s signature marking one of her favorite creations.
“It’s true, what Quentin said.” His voice was low between them. “We’ve never brought anyone to her before.”
“Ezra said he needed me to come with you because it wasn’t safe for me alone in the woods.”
Rhys ran a hand through his golden curls. “I warrant you could see to yourself if you had to. He knows it, too.”
“Then, there was no need for me to accompany you.”
“I’ve met many people in my short life. Cheats, charlatans, thieves.”
“And good people, too, I’d wager.”
His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “They’re rarer.
Harder to find in the mire. But you…” Rhys’s hand moved from the coat’s lapel, and he stroked a fingertip along the curve of her cheek.
“Lady Vixen is a good name for you. There’s a wildness in you, and a gentleness.
You’ve seen us as men, as beasts. Yet you don’t judge. You don’t turn away. I haven’t…”
The column of his throat worked, and there was a sheen in his eyes.
“You haven’t much experience with that,” she filled in gently.
He shook his head.
“I can’t judge you, Rhys.” Her own hand came up to weave her fingers with his. “I haven’t the right.”
“That doesn’t stop other people from doing the same. It didn’t stop my aunt and uncle. I wasn’t welcome in their home. They said I was an aberration, and I shouldn’t exist.”
“Fools,” she answered. “The both of them.”
His eyes shone. He bent down, and she held herself still as he brushed his full lips over hers. Only once, yet it was enough to made her liquid inside, even as her heart ached for him, this lost soul.
Then he was gone, striding away to help Ezra with the horse. She found herself alone with Tej, watching her with interest.
“I feel honored,” she said to him. “Taking me to your fence. It’s like bringing me to meet your family.”
“Quentin’s more than a fence for us. She…takes care of things. Gets us horses when we need them, finds us new dens if one’s been compromised. She’s even paid a sheriff to turn his back when the law got too close.”
“It benefits her to keep you in horses, dens, and free from the noose.”
“It does, but I suspect she could find other sources of income if the Brody Gang suddenly disappeared.”
“And you trust her with your secret?”
“It’s a select few who know,” he confirmed with a nod.
“Including me, now.”
“Including you.”