Page 69 of To Save a Scoundrel’s Soul

God, how Mickey didn’t want this man to ever leave. And how he wished he had the courage to follow him. “You are an excellent thief. I shall hold you to that promise.”

Neglected until now, the priceless necklace lay half in and half out of Mickey’s plain wooden box. He reached for it, rolling one of the cool diamonds between finger and thumb.

“I must return this to Ashington tomorrow.” He pressed the tip of his tongue against one of the chilly gemstones, earning a curious look from Valentin. “It is the real thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s the real thing,” Valentin confirmed. Taking the necklace from Mickey, he secured it around Mickey’s bare neck, the coldness of the stones pebbling Mickey’s skin. “If I had more time, I’d fuck you again, wearing nothing but this.”

Mickey giggled. “Ashington would be appalled.” He fingered each jewel in turn. “You stole it in Florence, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Valentin smoothed his palm down Mickey’s flank. “Once I’d spied it around Miss Amelia’s neck and deduced who Talybridge was, I had the counterfeit made up. It was fabricated by an artisan in that city with whom I have had business transactions for several years. He is one of the finest forgers in the whole of Europe.” He threw Mickey a wry smile. “Alas, as now, time was of the essence; he had to create it from only a sketch and my hasty description.”

“The counterfeit stones fooled everyone,” Mickey commented. “Even though you miscounted the number of diamonds. I only stumbled upon the error because the counterfeit parure was on a table beside Ashington’s painting of the original.” He rubbed one of the real diamonds, marvelling at its solidity. “Now I have these true ones in my hands, they are far superior.”

“Yes. It is a mercy that Miss Amelia and her father were not as observant as you. Nor Talybridge. Though I daresay he hadn’t removed it from his safe for decades, not since the day he shot the duchess.”

“He barely paid Miss Amelia any attention anyhow. She could have exchanged them for wooden counting beads, and he’d not have remarked upon it. But how did you swap them?”

Valentin stared up at the ceiling, a small smile playing at his lips. “It happened the night I took up Talybridge’s offer of temporary accommodations at their lodgings in Florence. I had spent the entire evening ensuring Mr Chesterton and Talybridge were too well oiled to oversee the parure stowed away. By the time he retired to bed, Talybridge could barely recall his own name, never mind confirm his diamonds were in a Chubb safe. And, after imbibing the best part of a bottle of brandy, Chesterton’s snores would have been audible from as far away as the Duomo. In the dead of night, I paid a visit to a sleeping Miss Amelia’s bedchamber. The parure was lying in a jewellery box on her dressing table.”

Mickey grinned. “You visited Miss Amelia’s bedchamber?”

Valentin put a finger over his lips. “Shhh. It is our secret. Willoughby must never know.”

They kissed, long and slow. Time ran through their fingers. Already, Valentin was withdrawing; Mickey sensed it. Soon, all he’d have left of his lover would be the parure and bittersweet memories.

“Surely they ransacked your rooms at Albany after you were arrested?” Mickey fondled the necklace, picturing Ashington’s delight at its return. “And found nothing. How did you hide it from them for all of this time?”

Valentin gave him a last lingering kiss. Mickey tried to hold on to the taste of it. “I didn’t.” Mickey felt his smile around the kiss. “You did, mon coeur.”

Mickey pushed him away. “I…what?”

“It was here all the time. Secreted behind one of your travel books.” He jerked his chin towards Mickey’s small bookcase. “That one, the lesser-thumbed, heavy tome full of endless maps of Europe. You see it? Bound in red leather. I placed it there when I first visited your bedchamber.”

“But you hardly knew me! What if I had selected to read that one and discovered it?”

Valentin shrugged. “I took a chance on trusting you. And you should take a look at that book sometime. Some of those old maps are truly fascinating; I don’t speak with any particular expertise, but many of the French ones are not as imprecise as one would first believe.”

At that moment, the maps could lead to a pirate’s treasure chest for all Mickey cared. “But how could you be sure that one day I’d invite you into my bedchamber once more to retrieve them?”

Valentin’s gaze flicked down to his groin. “I have never described myself as a modest man.”

“You have very little to be modest about. But I may have still discovered it.”

“You may,” Valentin conceded. “And you would have done the right thing by taking the parure to Tommy Squire, who would have discussed it with Ashington, who would have recognised it instantly and then paid me a visit.”

“If that had happened, Ashington could have made life here in London very uncomfortable for you.”

“Perhaps. But the duke loathes scandal—you’ve said so yourself.” Valentin shrugged. “I think we would have contrived to come to some sort of arrangement. I would have divulged what I knew regarding Talybridge and my father, and we would have avenged the marquess some other way.”

When Valentin put it like that, hiding the parure with Mickey, a virtual stranger, didn’t seem such a terrible idea after all.

“So why didn’t you approach the duke first?” he asked. “Once you arrived in London?”

“I wanted the proof of the letter in Talybridge’s safe,” Valentin explained. “So that my father could safely return.” He threw Mickey a naughty look. “And I…must admit, when I stole the original parure in Florence, it was not with the intention of…ah…ever returning it to its rightful owner.”

Mickey was an ass. Of course. Valentin was an inveterate thief, not a saint. His mission had been his father’s safe return and more money than a man could ever spend. “But you are doing so now,” he observed.

“Yes.” Valentin toyed with Mickey’s fingers. “As I believe I have already mentioned, my appetite for thieving has been quite ruined.” He flashed Mickey a smile. “Mostly. But that parure has caused enough misery. I’m not sure any good would come of owning it, nor from money gleaned by breaking it up and selling the gemstones. It is best that the thing is returned to Ashington’s safe for good.”