Page 153 of The Language of Love

Chapter 28

“You want me to steal them for you?” Annis repeated, glaring at the smug husband and wife team. She shook her head and crossed her arms. “No, I won’t do it.”

Richard chuckled. “I told you she had pluck,” he said to his wife.

Martha Loring gave Annis a look filled with loathing. “You also told me that fucking her was like bedding a corpse, Dickie.”

Annis flinched at the vile words and hateful look.

Again, Loring laughed. “Now, now, my dear. Let us stick to business.” He turned to Annis. “You will do what I ask, or everyone will know the truth about you. And your grandmother.”

“I will take that risk rather than become your accomplice.” Annis could see that her words startled him. “I’m not a thief, Dickie.”

Henry had told her it was important that Loring be the one to do the actual thieving if they were to arrest him. “Don’t let them talk you around into doing anything, Annis. And don’t give them the location of the key too easily—make them work hard for it or they will be suspicious.”

Martha Loring lunged toward Annis. “You’ll do what Richard says, you little bitch, or he’ll—”

Loring grabbed his wife’s arm and yanked her back. “Hush, Martha!” He glared briefly at his wife before turning to Annis. “Why are you being so difficult about this? It’s not as if your husband could ever sell any of the relics—everyone knows about the conditions. The replacements we made are so good that nobody will ever be the wiser.”

“Replacements?” She snorted. “I think the word you want is fakes.”

Loring’s smile was that of a snake. “Call them whatever you like, my dear. Either you help me exchange them for those in the vault or I will make you very sorry.”

“You’ve already used the threat of imprisonment and humiliation. I am a peer’s wife, now, so at least half of your threat is without teeth.”

He took a step closer to her and whispered in her ear. “You think your status will protect your grandmother? She might not go to jail, but she is a very old lady—they are fragile. They die all the time.”

Annis leapt back, bumping into a wing chair that was shrouded in a Holland cover. “Are you threatening to kill my grandmother if I don’t help?”

He just smiled.

Annis’s entire body was suddenly shaking; she dropped her hand to the chair to steady herself.

Richard made a soft clucking sound. “This has become so… ugly. But it doesn’t need to come to that, Annis. I tell you what, my dear, you just get me the key and I’ll see to the rest.”

“How do I know this will be the last time? Or that you’ll not hurt my grandmother?”

“This will be enough for us to live for the rest of our lives. Once we’ve done this, we’re leaving England for good.”

“And how do I know that the counterfeits you made won’t be discovered?

Loring nodded at his wife, who lifted the cover off a nearby settee, exposing a black physician’s bag.

She took four items from the bag and set them on the sheet-shrouded table.

“Go ahead, Annis. Have a look—I take it you’ve seen the originals?”

She lifted the dark lantern she’d brought with her and raised the shield to illuminate the items on the table. Her lips parted in shock.

“They are good, are they not?” he asked, his voice self-congratulatory. “Go ahead, pick them up and look closer.”

She lifted the cross first. “It’s heavy—just like the original.”

“Lead coated with gold,” Martha said, preening.

Annis picked up the painting next. It, too, was heavy, the gold frame—or lead, she supposed—encrusted with gems that sparkled brightly enough to look real, at least to her. She put it down and picked up the beveled glass case. A splinter rested on the velvet cushion.

“A piece of wood from a wagon spoke,” Loring said, his voice thick with glee at his own cleverness.