“I’m happy to hear it.” He had the good grace not to look smug, although she knew full well he’d lord it over her in the future. He turned to his wife. “You didn’t fool me for a minute, you know. I was too pleased to make a fuss…although now the excitement’s worn off a bit, I’ve a mind to make you pay for that deception.”
She raised a brow. “I cannot wait.”
The stern look Kendra was more accustomed to settled on his features. “Your health could have been at risk. And the babe’s as well.”
“I’ve never felt healthier in my life.” Cait slipped an arm around his waist, gazing up at him with a brilliant, calculated smile. “You’re not really vexed with me, are you?”
His answer was an indulgent sigh. “So what are you doing here?” he asked Trick.
“I have something that belongs to Charles. Long story,” he added when Cait went to ask. “I’m sure Kendra will enjoy the telling.”
Kendra grinned. “He only says that hoping I’ll make him out a hero.”
“I cannot wait to hear,” Caithren said, snagging her by the arm. “Shall we repair to the garden?”
The music stopped, and dancers began jostling past. His obligations over, King Charles caught Trick’s gaze and sent him a significant nod.
“I’m afraid your talk will have to wait,” he said. “I believe I’ve just been summoned home to Caldwell House.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, then,” Cait said, dropping Kendra’s arm and threading her own through Jason’s. “And my husband will dance with me instead.”
“Nothing energetic,” he warned. “You’ll stick to the minuet.”
“You see what I have to put up with?” she asked Kendra with a roll of her eyes. “Crivvens, you’d think I was an invalid.”
SIXTY-FOUR
AT CALDWELL House later that night, Trick watched as Charles swirled Madeira in his glass and took an appreciative sip. “Amazing.”
“The wine?”
The king’s lips curved beneath his thin black mustache. “The wine’s of admirable quality, to be sure. But then, your late father dealt only in the best.”
Trick agreed with a curt nod. The best, aye. The best wine, the best fabrics, the best furnishings, the best books. His gaze wandered to the leather-bound tomes lining the walls in this, the most impressive study in all of London. He doubted the man had ever cracked open even one of them.
“However, it was your gift I was referring to.” Charles set down the glass and reached into the chest, pulling out a solid gold dish and turning its heavy weight thoughtfully in his hands. “To think my own father’s treasure has resurfaced after all these years.”
“Only to end up where it was said to be in the first place.” Pensively, Trick played with the lock in his hands—the one he’d hacked off in the king’s presence.
“Od’s fish—that was none of your doing. It’s pleased I am that you recovered what you did, and I’d be pleased as well to see you keep a part of it.”
“I couldn’t.” He’d lost most of it already, no matter that Charles refused to place blame.
“I insist.” He handed Trick the plate. “Here. As a memento, if nothing else.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to keep this.” The dish had to be worth a small fortune, and Charles needed it far more than he did.
“There must be something here that strikes your fancy.” The king set down the plate and raised a jeweled goblet. “This. Or something else.”
“No, really, I—”
“What is this?” Metal servingware clanked as Charles reached into the bottom and brought out the small ivory casket. His black eyes glittering, he lifted the unlocked lid and extracted the short necklace of large pearls. Raising it with a hand, he flicked a finger to set the giant teardrop pearl swinging. “There’s a painting of my mother wearing this,” he murmured.
“Henrietta Maria will be happy to have it back. It will look lovely on her.”
The king looked up. “Yes, it will,” he said softly. “I thank you.” He fished out the sapphire and diamond necklace that Kendra had held up earlier. “If you won’t take something for yourself, then take this for your new wife.”
Suddenly inspired, Trick reached for the box, setting it on his lap to extricate a long strand of pearls from the tangle.
“This,” he said. “If you insist I take something, this is what I’d like.”
Charles frowned at it. “Those pearls are ordinary. And the clasp only amber. I’d lay odds that’s the least valuable item in the entire chest.”
“It’s the one I want.” Trick’s tone left no room for doubt.
“You shall have it then, with my thanks.” The king shut the casket and set it atop the gold and silver that crowded the trunk. He reached for his wineglass again, his long fingers worrying the stem. “How goes the mission?”
“Very well, but for the interruption.” The pearls made soft clicking sounds as Trick shifted them in his hands, thinking about Kendra asleep in the late duke’s gaudy bed upstairs. “I have some descriptions that I was preparing to give to Pendregast when I was called away to Scotland.”
“Excellent.” The king sipped. “I assume, being away, you missed hearing the latest news.”
“News?” A tiny chill crept up Trick’s spine. Or maybe the chamber was a bit cold.
“There’s been a reward posted for the mysterious Black Highwayman.”
“Blast it.” He could only hope his leads would pan out and he’d have no need to pose as the highwayman again. “No one has connected him to me, so I don’t expect I have anything to worry about.”
“No one?”
“Just my wife. And her family.” Unfortunately. “I haven’t told them the purpose for the disguise—”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Broadsides were likely plastered all over the kingdom, advertising the reward. Kendra would see them and worry herself sick. “I’d like to tell only my wife—”
“If the mission is nearly complete, there’s no sense involving anyone else.”
“Just her—”
“I’ve never known a woman who could keep her mouth
