Chapter 61

"Delusional. All right? We talked about this before, these little stories you keep telling about the elves and the jewel thieves and that elephant you brought all the way from India and lived in Sherwood Forest with. That one's her best." He peered around the semicircle of devouring, disbelieving eyes. He had to. Were she really Lord Armstrong's daughter, she'd be safe. Wasn't he himself testament to the power of the aristocracy that he hadn't swung for the Wentworth emeralds? But she wasn't Lord Armstrong's daughter, as that old crone had just proved, and there were those here who would crucify her for that fact. "It's even got Robin Hood in it. Hannibal too, seeing as she crossed the Alps with him, on that same elephant. Hindi, you called him."
She clutched the reticule tighter. "Did I fu-"
"You like to think so. Maybe it was Hinda, but His Grace, Lord Koorecroft there, will attest to that little lie you told him just the other month." Remembering she had, he lowered his mouth to her ear. It was the way out now and he needed her to take it. Not stand glued to the catch of her reticule, even if the feel of her wrist, the brush of her body, her provocative essence sent tremors coursing through his, as it always did, through his pores, through his veins. "Now, you remember the one about your husband, dear Elgie, being a spy?"
"He was never a spy and he wasn't my husband. I've never been married."
"Finally, I'm glad you said so. Half the county thinks you were because that is what you claimed. As fine a piece of nonsense as you ever heard, ladies and gentlemen, spouted while she searched for her father. Lord Armstrong of Barwych, no less. Another fantastical fantasy. Like Robin Hood. Like Old Shuck of Essex. Like that elephant. But now this lady has said who her father really was, and it's not-"
"I am Sapphire."
His thought that when it came to birds, she might conceivably have been something as vexing as a talking parrot, was arrested by the clatter. Bracelets, brooches, pocket watches cascaded onto the floor. Everything in fact, except the mustard spoon, the lorgnette, and his cuff link. Having emptied the reticule, she held it upside down for an instant in the stunned silence. The air seemed to crackle as she shook it to make quite sure nothing remained. Then she righted it and snapped it shut.
"I told you she was the thief!" Belle shrieked.
She had, hadn't she? And now in the jostling, yelling, cursing cacophony, Devorlane was pushed aside.
What he knew was he couldn't let them touch her. As long as there was breath in his body, he couldn't-damn her for putting him in this position, for twisting his heart with her dignity, her coolness about the old crone, for everything.
"Wait!" He struggled between her and the laborers clasping her arm. "She's wrong. Belle has this wrong. She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything-"
"Wrong?" Belle grabbed his wrist. "Devorlane, how on earth can you say so, when the truth is there, right there? These things were in her bag."
He should be careful not to think so now. He just knew it was so long since he'd given a damn about anything, he hadn't known this feeling for what it truly was. Couldn't confess, even a second ago, not even to himself, that this woman who he'd tried to hate, to dismiss, to kid himself about, this woman had him. She always had.
This hunger for her, the one that had haunted him down the dark and lonely years, had nothing to do with revenge. He had looked for her in the faces of his whores, on the streets he never should have walked, the lips of every woman he'd kissed, the blast of battle, the dark of night. And what had he done since he'd found her? Things he didn't like to think about.
If he did this now-hell, he was going to, when he thought of his worthless damned life and what she had brought back into it. It was that, or see her hang.
"Because I put them there."
"No, Devorlane. Don't lie ...Don't ... Oh, for God's sake. No."
He knew he must have shouted because silence fell, as if a blanket had been dropped on the room, except for Belle of course.
"I put them there."
And her.
But, with the exception of her, the collective gaze of those present rested on him, so he might as well continue. "Lord Koorecroft knows I'm the thief."
"I'm the thief."
"You all know I am-well, some of you do anyway. But for those who don't I'll tell you. No fantastical tale, unlike some of what you've been hearing. Ten years ago I stole the Wentworth emeralds."
"I-"
He knew what tiresome thing was about to escape her coral lips. Knew by the way her chin jerked and her brows puckered. By the vicious glare she shot him. He couldn't let it. If he couldn't save himself, he could save her. And what was he looking at here? Another term in the military? What was that really? Christ, better than seeing that beautiful body dangle. He'd thought that hadn't he? The first night he'd seen her naked. She was made for better things.
Maybe she couldn't see it right now. Maybe he ruined this moment for her where what she wanted above all else was to stand center stage. But he knew this woman in her most capricious moods. These silly things that had driven him to every kind of distraction. Tomorrow she'd regret it.
As for him? What had he been but in the wrong place at the wrong time that night? A life could only be ruined if you let it. In some ways she had saved his.
"It was on this very night. Christmas Eve," he said. "And knowing this, knowing how I've always tried to blame the greatest jewel thief in London for my transgression, she, this lady that is-"
"Devorlane, don't."
What glinted in Belle's eyes almost made him regret the time spent detesting her.
"How can you do this? Defend the creature who ruined your life that night? Who was to blame for you being sent away to the military against your wishes? Ten years, Devorlane. To start with as a common, ordinary recruit because nobody, nobody, believed you. Think of everything that was done to you there. Think of ten years wasted. Ask yourself how can you do this now?"
The answer to that was simple.
He didn't want to cause more blood to drain from Cassidy Armstrong's face by giving it.