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  Quickly she looked away.

  Stiffening her spine, Linnet snapped open her fan. She picked up her skirts with her free hand, and followed in the wake of her Aunt Lydia with her brother Toby by her side along with her cousin Louisa and Harry Radcliffe, the young man Louisa was to marry. As she began to ascend the elaborate marble staircase, Linnet assumed an expression of fashionable ennui. The beautiful setting and the laughter spurred her on through a sea of nameless faces into the ballroom, where she was swept along by the music and the dancing. She didn’t lack for partners.

  * * *

  It was during the break for refreshments that Linnet realised she hadn’t seen Toby all evening.

  Noting her unease, her aunt tapped her arm with her fan. ‘What is it, Linnet? Is it Toby you are looking for?’

  ‘Yes. I—I don’t know where he can be.’

  Although a smile stretched her lips, her aunt’s eyes were cold. She looked at Linnet with disdain. ‘Perhaps you should try the card room, Linnet. Isn’t that where he spends most of his time?’

  Linnet’s heart sank. ‘I—I hadn’t thought... He said he wouldn’t...not tonight.’

  ‘Really, my dear,’ her aunt said, with a meaningful lift to her brows, ‘you know him better than that.’

  ‘Yes, I do, Aunt. Excuse me. I—I will go and look for him.’

  Linnet was relieved to escape her aunt’s overbearing presence. Tall and statuesque, Aunt Lydia was a striking woman with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. Her sole ambition in life was to entertain and ingratiate herself with the social elite and she was a stickler for propriety. Her husband had been killed in a riding accident, leaving her an extremely wealthy widow—a widow who saw that none of her wealth reached her impoverished niece and nephew at Birch House in Chelsea. Lydia’s dislike for Linnet and Toby—the poor relations—radiated from her. Linnet knew this, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  Anger and disappointment at her brother’s recklessness burned inside Linnet. At twenty years of age, Toby was two years younger than Linnet. Toby was a man of expensive tastes and, in his reckless desperation to improve their lot, he was in danger of gambling everything away, including their wonderful home in Chelsea, where they lived alone, now their parents were both dead.

  Ever since their father had died when Toby was a youth, leaving them almost destitute—their situation worsened by Toby’s propensity to gamble—Linnet’s life had been a constant worry. No one knew what the wrenching loss of both their father and his income had done to her and Toby, or understood the humiliation, shame and heartbreak of it all and how it felt to be forced to live in shabby, penny-pinching gentility.

  Trouble was looming, which would be too big for Linnet to handle. Her greatest fear was that they would be left with no choice but to sell the house, which would break her heart. Every day was a struggle to make ends meet, a struggle in which it seemed that defeat was waiting to mock her. Linnet felt as if she were constantly banging her head against a stone wall—and there had been too many stone walls of late. She had contemplated seeking work of some kind and would consider anything that would bring her some income. If only she had someone to talk to, someone to advise her. She was sick with worry and striving and she felt tired. What would become of them?

  Linnet had begged Toby countless times to give up his reckless way of life, for if he did not heed their situation then he would find himself in gaol—or worse. But Toby was so wrapped up in his own self-indulgent world he always became angry and defensive and found Linnet’s persistence to try to reform him extremely irritating. Now, her resolve to find him before it was too late sent her towards the room where the card tables had been set up, believing she would find her brother there.

  Inside the room the noise was muted so as not to distract the players. There were a lot of people throwing away their money sitting around the green baize tables, and even more standing around watching the games of whist, Hazard and other games that took the guests’ fancy in this paradise of chance. Standing in the doorway, Linnet scanned the groups of people clustered around them, where several games were in progress, but there was no sign of Toby.

  Relief flooded through her, but she was left wondering where he could be. She did not linger, not wishing to draw undue attention to herself, but it was no easy matter for Linnet was exquisitely attractive, a figure of elegance, one who instinctively drew a second, lingering glance. There was not a thing she could do about it, for it was innate, like drawing breath. She was unaware that in her plain gown she was scintillating and far more alluring than if she had been adorned from head to toe in jewels.

  She was also unaware of the attention of the gentleman who now observed her appearance in the card room—the same gentleman who had noted her arrival at Stourbridge House, his eyes following her with an interested gleam. Linnet was in no mood to return to the ballroom, so she turned away from the card room and wandered from room to room, looking for her brother.

  She wandered into a quiet part of the house, where the passageways were dimly lit. When a door opened further along she paused and watched in amazement as her brother emerged, his hand in the pocket of his coat. There was something furtive in his movements and the way his eyes darted up and down the passage. Linnet was immediately suspicious that he was up to something.

  ‘Toby! What are you doing here? I’ve been looking for you. Why are you not with the other guests?’

  ‘Linnet—I—I was just—’

  ‘Just what? What have you got in your pocket?’

  Toby’s face reddened. ‘Nothing—nothing at all.’

  ‘Yes, you have. Show me,’ Linnet demanded, holding out her hand.

  Knowing she wouldn’t let him go until he’d showed her the contents of his pocket, Toby slowly pulled out what looked to be a piece of jewellery.

  Linnet stared at it, not fully comprehending at first what it was. But then something she had heard her aunt talking about resurrected itself and she could not believe what she was seeing—what Toby had done. Lord Stourbridge was a keen archaeologist and loved all things Egyptian. He was excited and vociferous about the artefacts he had recently brought out of Egypt and he proudly boasted of his finds to all and sundry. His treasures were much talked about, especially a recently acquired necklace of solid gold.

  Linnet looked at him accusingly. ‘So, not only do you gamble away every penny we own, now you are a thief. How could you, Toby? How could you do this? I have no doubt you are not in this alone and that one of your associates has put you up to it. How did you know where to look?’

  ‘It wasn’t difficult. I gained inside knowledge of the house from one of the footmen employed by Lord Stourbridge.’

  ‘I imagine the footman was well paid for the information and the man who would be guarding the room has gone for his supper.’ Hearing laughter coming from close by and being quick, efficient and decisive, she snatched the necklace out of his hand. ‘Go back to the ballroom and show your face to Aunt Lydia. I’ll put this back.’

  A look of panic appeared in Toby’s eyes. ‘You can’t. There are others depending on this.’

  ‘If they want the necklace, then they can come and get it. I will not see you go to prison, Toby. Where did you get it from? Tell me.’

  ‘There’s a small black box in the chest facing the door,’ he told her petulantly. ‘You can’t miss it.’

  Linnet watched Toby hurry down the passage before opening the door to the room he had come out of. Attaching her fan to her reticule, with her heart in her mouth she slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her.

  There were lighted candles in sconces on the walls, casting light and shadows in the room. Looking around, she saw it was a treasure trove of antiquities. Lord Stourbridge was very proud of his collection of ancient relics. The walls were hung with all kinds of artefacts, from African spears and shields to brightly coloured frescoes depic
ting Egyptians’ daily lives and mosaics from ancient Egypt and ancient Greece. Stuffed animal heads leered down at her. Shoving herself away from the door, she slowly moved into the centre of the room, pulling off her gloves and shoving them into her reticule. Amulets of ancient gods, bronze figurines, wooden statuettes and objects taken from Egyptian tombs that the dead had used and enjoyed in life, were displayed on plinths and shelves.

  Moving across the room, Linnet was unaware of the door opening and a tall figure slipping inside. She stood quite still, the music from the ballroom fading as she gazed in awe at what she saw. She had never seen anything like it. Brought from her reverie by laughter somewhere outside the room, Linnet told herself she would have to hurry if she was to accomplish her task successfully. Almost at once she recognised the wooden chest Toby had described to her, one Lord Stourbridge had recently brought from Egypt that held his latest collection of treasures.

  With her heart beating loudly in her ears, Linnet quickly moved towards it and lifted the lid. Looking inside, she did a quick search of the contents. Seeing a wooden box, tentatively she lifted it out and looked inside, certain this was the box where the necklace belonged.

  Removing the box, she looked at the necklace in her hand, letting it trail through her fingers in solitary splendour. It was a lavish piece of jewellery, made up of five rows of solid gold links inlaid with lapis lazuli and joined by a central gold clasp in the shape of a scarab. Each lapis lazuli stone was like no other in a combination of blue, black and gold. It was truly magnificent. Even to her inexperienced eye Linnet knew it would require a significant level of skill to produce. Out of interest, there were other items in the chest she would have liked to look at more closely, but she told herself she had to hurry. Time was of the essence. The longer she remained in the room, the greater the risk of her being caught. She was about to place it inside the box when a voice rang behind her.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if you value your life,’ it said.

  She felt a frisson of alarm as all her senses became heightened. She spun around to see who had spoken. A man emerged from the shadows and moved menacingly towards her. Edging into view with a cynical twist to his lips, he allowed the shifting light of the candles to illuminate his features. As she watched him her throat tightened and fear jabbed her in the chest. It was the same man who had drawn her attention earlier. The closer he came brought a waft of gentle cologne that touched her senses and she became aware of his catlike litheness. She could feel the energy flowing from him and could sense the danger. He hardly made a sound as he walked towards her, his eyes never leaving her face, his step surprisingly light for his size.

  Linnet had to look up into his face, he was so tall. He was close, so close she could see the fine lines at the corners of his mouth and the glitter of his black eyes behind the mask. They seemed to bore through her, the gaze so bold and forward that her eyes slowly widened and for a brief moment she held her breath, frozen by his steely gaze.

  The man saw the wary look of a trapped but defiant young animal enter her transparent eyes, eyes the colour of a tawny owl behind her mask. Her face was uptilted—deep inside he felt something tighten, harden, clarifying and coalescing into one crystal-clear emotion. He found himself wishing he could see her face. Her eyes blazed with defiance. There was an elfin delicacy from the little he could see of her face and a pert little point to her chin. Her lips were full and the straight cut of her gown revealed the curves of her slender body beneath. He knit his brows as he searched her eyes.

  ‘Do you normally inspect the ladies you meet with such thoroughness?’ Linnet demanded suddenly, with a voice like frosted glass.

  An impudent smile curved his lips. ‘You don’t like it?’

  ‘Not one bit.’

  His smile broadened. ‘Whoever you are, you look extremely lovely—as rare a jewel as the one you are holding. Too bad you are a thief. I like what I see.’

  Her lips tightened at the chauvinistic remark. ‘Things aren’t always what they seem.’

  ‘No? My eyes do not deceive me. But please do not be alarmed. You will come to no harm if you behave yourself.’

  The sound of his voice, deep and resonant, sent a thrill of fear down Linnet’s spine, and she trembled for some unknown reason. He continued to look at her searchingly—the warm liquid of his dark gaze missed nothing. ‘Behave myself?’ she uttered bravely. ‘If you lay one finger on my person, I swear I will scream.’

  ‘I have no intention of touching you,’ he replied calmly. ‘Be assured that nothing was further from my mind and to scream would be your greatest folly. What do you think would happen to you if Lord Stourbridge should find you—an intruder, if my judgement serves me correct—in this room, about to steal his greatest prize? A most foolhardy act.’

  Linnet’s fear increased, pricking her consciousness that she had been caught in what must seem to be a criminal act. The certainty of what would happen to her was beginning to loom monstrously large in her mind. Her mind tumbled over in a frenzy. What could she do? With the man blocking her way to the door, it was impossible for her to escape. Straightening her spine, she faced him with outward calm, looking at him for a long, thoughtful moment, estimating her chances of getting out of that room with her dignity intact.

  ‘This isn’t what it looks like,’ Linnet said, hoping to convince him. ‘I wasn’t stealing it.’

  ‘No? Try telling that to a magistrate. My eyes did not deceive me. I caught you red handed.’ Taking the necklace from her, he held it up to the light, the gold links trailing through his fingers like droplets of shining water. He sighed his appreciation, his casual manner and his outward calm out of keeping with the seriousness of the situation.

  ‘It’s a beautiful piece—hard to believe it’s been buried for nigh on three thousand years. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘No—only that it is worth a considerable fortune.’

  He smiled thinly. ‘Of course you do, otherwise you would not be here to steal it. Allow me enlighten you. Jewellery made of lapis lazuli was a status symbol in ancient Egypt. It was a symbol of power and status. The Egyptians believed it offered protection and symbolised truth. They valued it more highly than gold. The scarab you see is believed to ensure resurrection and eternal life and generally to bring good luck. Amulets in the shape of scarabs were used in connection with burials and were intended to protect the dead from all dangers which faced them in the future life.’

  ‘Really?’ Linnet remarked with a hint of sarcasm. ‘Thank you for the lesson, but do you mind telling me what you are going to do?’

  ‘What do you expect me to do? You are a common thief—and not a very good one otherwise you wouldn’t have been caught out.’ Holding her gaze, he moved closer. ‘Mention this to anyone, Miss Whoever-You-Are, and you can kiss your freedom goodbye.’

  Linnet blanched at the threat and stepped away from him. ‘Will you tell Lord Stourbridge?’ Fear filled her heart, but she would not make a spectacle of herself with weakness and tears.

  He looked at her, so small and slender. There was a sweet elfin delicacy to what he could see of her face below the mask. He wondered at the colour of her hair beneath the white wig and he knit his brows as he studied her. She was studying him with equal measure. Drawn to her eyes, peering at him through the holes in her mask, he’d never seen such incredible eyes—they were indeed the unusual shade of tawny, he thought, and they had depth and glowed, almost as if they had hot coals burning behind them. When he had made his presence known, she had looked agitated and her expression had been one of intense fear.

  ‘I haven’t made up my mind.’

  Suddenly a thought occurred to Linnet and her eyes opened wide. ‘Why are you here, sir, in this room? Are you by any chance a thief also?’

  ‘All I will say is that I am here to claim what is rightly mine.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘This,�
�� he replied, indicating the necklace.

  ‘How do I know you are telling me the truth? People are not always what they seem—and not to be trusted.’

  ‘You will simply have to take my word for it.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘I give you my word as a gentleman.’

  ‘A gentleman does not steal other people’s property.’

  ‘I told you. I am not a thief.’

  ‘Then I can see we find ourselves in something of a dilemma.’

  ‘Why? Because you are here for the necklace and you do not like to be cheated out of it? You may not be so eager to take possession of it if you knew more about it,’ he remarked, with a quiet casualness as he admired his possession.

  ‘What is there to know?’

  ‘That a curse is believed to be cast upon any person who seeks to own it. The curse does not differentiate between archaeologists or common thieves. Allegedly it can cause bad luck, illness and even death.’

  Linnet blanched. Even though the knowledge of the curse terrified her, she refused to let that terror overtake her. ‘You are only telling me this to scare me.’

  Shrugging his shoulders, the man shook his head. ‘Not at all. I am merely stating a fact. Ancient Egyptians believed that they should protect their tombs by magical means or curses. Curses are placed on sacred objects and possessions to stop people from disturbing them. Inscriptions on tombs often speak of the deceased coming back to life to seek revenge should anyone dare to desecrate their resting place. The curse is what will happen to anyone who does not heed the warning.’