The coach jerked forward then abruptly ground to a halt, the coachman shouting a hasty, Whoa!
The top of a feminine hat appeared in the window and a gloved hand yanked at the door handle. The door was wrenched open to reveal Gavina, clad in a tailored coat and the matching dark blue hat.
Jamie politely sprang to assist her inside, hiding his irritation. He’d definitely indicated she should stay behind.
“Mrs. Barrow insisted,” Gavina explained as she landed on the seat next to Evie. “Can’t let Miss McKnight ride around with the notorious Jamie Mackenzie without a chaperone. Since I am a relation, I was chosen.” She settled her skirt as Jamie pulled the door closed and knocked on the roof to signal the coachman he should proceed. “You two carry on. Don’t mind me.”
Jamie thumped to his seat as the coach’s momentum sent his backside to it. “Am I notorious?” he asked testily.
Evie’s smile broadened. “Apparently females swoon at the sight of you.”
“Bloody nonsense,” Jamie grumbled.
“They swoon at your language too,” Gavina said. “But truly, ignore me. I’d made up my mind to give you privacy, but Mrs. Barrow is right. Gadding about with you alone will get Evie gossiped about.”
Evie’s focus moved back to Jamie, the smile reappearing. Very dangerous of her to look at him like that.
Jamie forced his gaze from Evie, where it could linger all day, and returned it to Gavina. “Not a word about what you see and where we go,” he ordered in his most commanding tone. “It is Evie’s secret, not mine. So no gabbing to Alec or even to my sisters.”
Gavina regarded him loftily. “I’ve already sworn my silence to Evie. Do not worry, Cousin. I can keep secrets when I want to.”
The flicker in her eyes told Jamie she had kept some, deep down where no one would pry them out. He wondered about that, but let it go.
Jamie said little as they wound north toward Baker Street, but that did not mean they journeyed in silence. He said little, but the two ladies chattered about anything and everything.
Jamie leaned against the cushions, letting the feminine conversation flow over him like a soft breeze. He liked Evie’s voice, low and seductive, though he wagered she had no idea how seductive it truly was.
He thought about the folded note in his pocket and experienced a moment of disquiet. He would cause Evie pain if his conclusions were correct. Jamie wanted to do everything on earth to keep her from hurt, but Evie deserved the truth.
The street that held the lock-up did not appear as sinister in daylight, merely seedy and rundown. Daniel preferred it like this, wanting no one to believe that very valuable motorcars were hidden in the dingy lock-up.
Jamie agreed with Daniel—if he kept the motorcars in a sleek garage with men in gloves wiping every speck of dust from them, they’d be a target. Danny had prototypes that would be worth millions to unscrupulous manufacturers. Daniel had patents, yes, but canny men could get around those. It happened all the time. Thus Daniel hid his cars away in this unlikely area of the metropolis.
Jamie saw no sign of the toughs. The lane was very quiet, which was either lucky, or else the toughs were keeping anyone from taking a shortcut through it.
He descended, then reached for Evie’s hand, knowing better than to tell her to wait in the carriage.
Gavina, however, remained seated. “You go on,” she said serenely. “I’ll keep a lookout.”
Evie’s hand in Jamie’s was warm, and he did not want to release it once she was steady on the ground. She lightly withdrew, holding her skirt from the damp street.
Jamie unlocked the gate and opened it enough for him and Evie to slip through. Cold and darkness greeted them, along with the familiar scents of exhaust, oil, and metal polish.
Evie went directly to the false wall as Jamie lit a lantern. “You’d never know anything was here.” She ran her hand over the bricks in wonder.
“Violet designed this.” Jamie gently pried the panel open to reveal the small safe. “She learned to conceal apparatus for the fortune-telling shows she used to do with her mother.”
Evie’s eyes widened. “You mean they were frauds?”
“Oh, yes.” Jamie answered. “They traveled around the Continent, holding seances, foretelling the future. Violet believes her mother truly had the gift but contends she never did herself. She’s just good at understanding much about people at first glance.”
“On the voyage from New York, the young ladies were wild for her to tell their fortunes,” Evie said. “Clara wanted to have her palm read, but our mother said it was all bunk.”
Jamie chuckled. “Violet would agree with you.” He studied her, a sensible-looking young woman in her practical coat and hat with no frills, nothing taking away from her beautiful eyes. “You never wanted your fortune told?”
“No, indeed.” Evie’s answer was too quick, and she glanced away. “I know all there is to know about myself.”
An interesting statement. Jamie didn’t press her, but turned away and unlocked the safe.
The bundle containing the alabastron sat inside, unharmed, just as they’d left it.
Jamie lifted it out gingerly. Evie peeled back a corner of the cloth, breathing out in relief when she revealed the jar’s painted figures.
“I saw nothing in the newspapers this morning about a sensational theft at the British Museum,” she said, covering it up again.
“Aye, they might notice in fifty years that something is gone, and by then it will be a curious mystery, nothing more.”
“Unless the British minister who donated it demands to see it displayed,” Evie said glumly.
“He won’t.” Jamie carefully set the bundle on the nearest table and closed and locked the safe. “Sir Geoffrey Hammond. He has no idea what he was given. Some old Greek vase, he said. Not even a proper big one. I accepted it to be polite, then handed the damned thing to the museum. If I kept it in my house, my housekeeper would smash it, the clumsy cow.”
Evie gaped at him in shock. “You know him?”
“Uncle David does—he’s not really my uncle, but a very close friend of Uncle Hart’s. Uncle David knows everyone in government. He gave me the name of Sir Geoffrey’s usual club. I decided to darken its door, happened to run into the minister, and mentioned I’d heard he’d received a gift when he went off to Greece, wasn’t that splendid?”
Evie fixed Jamie with a hard stare. “Happened to run into him?”
“I wanted to make certain he had no interest in the alabastron, and he does not. Sir Geoffrey turned the conversation quite readily to a lady he’d seen on the music hall stage and also to the health of his cows in Hertfordshire.”
“As long as he doesn’t confuse the two,” Evie said, her face straight.
Jamie’s tension dissolved into laughter. “Dear Lord, McKnight I—” He jerked as he realized that his next words would have been, I love you. “You’re a fine woman,” he amended.
If Evie noticed the slip, she made no sign. “And you’re a clever man, Mackenzie. I’m very glad Iris brought you into our little conspiracy.”
“As am I, or I’d be wondering today why you were in the nick.”