Page 71 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

“Letting me know the Eye was in your grandmother’s room was scarcely giving anything away,” Desmond said, taking up the argument again. “I didn’t see where she hid it.”

“You knew it was in her bedroom.”

“Anyone would have guessed that it would be there. I could have searched her rooms before,” Desmond said.

“Perhaps you did.”

“You know I didn’t. You were with me every minute I was in your home.”

“Which is exactly why you didn’t steal it earlier. That’s why you slipped your cohort into our house.”

“My cohort? What—Who—Good Lord, do you mean Katie?”

“Yes. Katie. The woman you so conveniently knew, who could so conveniently start immediately, whom we would all trust because we trusted you. Whose presence anywhere in the house would never be noticed as yours would have been.”

“Don’t.” His eyes hardened. “Don’t you dare bring Katie into all this. She is entirely blameless—she knows nothing about the Eye. I gave your mother her name because I wanted to help the duchess, and it was a pleasant bonus that I was able to help Katie, as well. That is all. If you let her go because of this, without any proof, it would be heartless.”

“You want to talk to me about being heartless?” Thisbe said in patent disbelief.

“At the moment, I don’t want to talk to you about anything at all.”

Unbelievably, foolishly, his words stung, and Thisbe had to glance away to hide the tears that suddenly filled her eyes.

Despite his words, Desmond continued in a low, bitter voice, “I never thought I would see you act like an aristocrat.” He knocked on the roof and called to the driver, “Here it is.”

Desmond opened the door before the carriage had come to a full stop and jumped down. He stood waiting for her, hands jammed into his pockets. He nodded toward a narrow alleyway between two houses. “It’s up the stairs.”

Thisbe followed him up the two flights of stairs to a door high in the outside wall. He opened the door and went inside.

“You leave it unlocked?” Thisbe asked in surprise.

“I’ve nothing to steal.”

She walked into a small, oddly shaped room with a peaked ceiling that sloped on both sides down to a short wall. It had clearly once been an attic. Next to the door was a single window letting in a dim light, clearly limited by the taller building beside it. The place was small and spare, with only a few pieces of plain furniture, none of them new. But it was meticulously clean and had a certain quaint appeal.

Thisbe glanced around the room. Books were scattered across a small table. His comb and brush, along with shaving paraphernalia, sat on the chest beside a washbasin, a small mirror above it. A muffler was draped over the back of a chair. It felt very awkward to stand here in this private place of Desmond’s. She was pushing in where she didn’t belong, where she wasn’t wanted.

It was obvious that Annie Blue’s Eye was nowhere to be seen, and that there was little place to hide it. Desmond ostentatiously opened each of the dresser drawers and shoved the clothes to the side to show that the Eye was not there. When he closed the last one, he turned to her, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Thisbe swallowed. It hurt to see this harder, colder Desmond. She walked to the window, just to give herself something to do. Looking out, she said, “I haven’t said anything to Katie. Nor to my mother or anyone but you. Nor would I accuse Katie without any proof or a chance to defend herself.” She forced herself to look at him. “I’m not acting like an aristocrat. I suspect her because of her connection to you, not because she’s from a lower class.”

“Really?” Desmond moved closer. “I think that’s exactly why you accused her. Why you assumed I had taken it. You know there are several others who want it, yet you came straight to me. What about Carson? Wouldn’t you have taken his word as a gentleman when he said he didn’t steal the Eye? Would you have accused Carson as quickly, as harshly, as you did me?”

“No! Because I didn’t love Carson.” Tears sprang into Thisbe’s eyes, and she started for the door. She would not let him see her cry.

“Thisbe...” Desmond’s voice lost its hard edge. He caught her arm, stepping in front of her. “Thisbe, look at me.” He tilted up her chin and cupped her cheek, his thumb sliding across it to wipe away an errant tear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I caused you any pain. If I could go back and change it all, I would. But I can’t. The best I could do was tell you the truth, even though I knew it would cost me your affection. And I am telling you the truth now. I did not steal the Eye.”

It was an almost physical pain to be this close to him—to hear his voice, to feel his skin upon her cheek, to look into the dark depths of his eyes. With all her heart, Thisbe wanted to believe him. She wanted to melt into his arms and feel his lips on hers, to put her faith in him. But she was wiser now. She knew to think rather than feel. She took a step back, breaking their connection.

She would use her head. And her head suspected he was probably telling the truth. Her anger and hurt had colored her judgment. She had wanted Desmond to be the culprit. But, looking at it logically, it would be a foolish thing for him to steal the Eye right after she’d shown it to him, and Desmond was not foolish. Nor would he be unwise enough to stay in the city, working at the same place, where she could so easily find him. When she told him it had been stolen, the shock on his face had been very real.

“Very well,” Thisbe said. She wasn’t ready to trust him, but if he hadn’t stolen it, she could use his help. If he had, he’d obviously hidden the thing, and perhaps she could get a clue from him as to where. “I’m willing to go forward on that premise.”

There was a tinge of disappointment in his eyes, but he only nodded and said, “Obviously the others in my group are the main suspects. Mr. Wallace, Professor Gordon and Carson. One of the others could have done it, I suppose, but...” He shook his head. “They haven’t displayed as much interest. I’d put them last.”

“I presume you told all of them about the Eye,” Thisbe ventured.

The guilt on Desmond’s face was answer enough. “I’m sorry. I told them that the dowager duchess wouldn’t let us study it. So, yes, they knew for certain that it was real and that your grandmother did indeed possess it. I suppose I should have told them it didn’t exist, but that didn’t even occur to me. I couldn’t lie to Professor Gordon. The man has been ridiculed so much, I couldn’t bear not to let him know that he’d been right about the Eye all these years.” He dragged his fingers back through his hair. “Clearly I am a failure at deception.”