fascinated first his father, then him, for years? And in the Princess of Walesâs close, puce-colored drawing room, no less!
Caroline settled into her chair and unclasped the boxâs tiny gilt lock. With bated breath, Hope watched as she opened the lid and held out the box for Sophia and Hope to see.
âMy God,â he heard Sophia murmur as they straightened in unison to get a better look.
The box was lined in finest white velvet, so fine and silken as to appear pearlescent in the molten light of the room. Against this background the diamond glittered very clear and blue, a transparent color that reminded Hope of the open-air pools in the sultanâs palace in Constantinople, gleaming beneath a wide, hot sun.
The jewel was somehow smaller than heâd imagined, but much more beautiful. Seductive even, like a woman with a wicked smile and sphinxlike eyes. He sensed trouble. He knew he couldnât, shouldnât, could never have her; but this desire, it was unlike anything heâd ever known, and the impulse to indulge it was overwhelming.
Cut into an irregular oval, the French Blue was about the size of a small rose bloom. Hope wondered how large it had been when Jean Baptiste Tavernier had brought it, rough and uncut, to France from India some two centuries before. The Sun Kingâs jeweler had done the diamond justice, however; it was brilliant and near flawless. Hope understood where the curse had come from, understood why emperors had toppled kingdoms to possess the jewel; understood why the French Blue meant so much to Lake, and how much it would mean to Napoleon. This power the French Blue possessed over men, it was nothing short of hypnotic.
At last Princess Caroline spoke, breaking the diamondâs spell.
âWill this suit my young lovers?â She glanced down at the note on the table beside her. âI do believe it is a fair bargain.â
Hope pried his eyes from the diamond and looked at the princess. âThe French Blue went missing some twenty years ago in Paris. Some believed it lost forever to the wars that followed. How did you find it?â
The princess blinked and looked away, her smile small and knowing. âYour twenty thousand only goes so far, Mr. Hope. Suffice it to say I came into possession of the French Blue through channels that shall forever remain unknown to history.â
Hope swallowed his curiosity. They were so closeâso very close to getting what theyâd come for. He knew that if he pushed Princess Caroline any further she might renege on the deal.
Still. Something told him that the story of how Caroline came to own the diamond was an intriguing one, a missing piece of the puzzle heâd been trying to solve for years.
Beside him, Sophia squeezed his hand. He met her eyes.
Letâs go
, she pleaded,
before she changes her mind
.
Hope looked back at the princess. It bothered him, this glaring gap in the jewelâs historyâwhat if sheâd stolen the diamond? Bought if off a French spy? Was
working
as a French spy?âbut he knew there would be time to unravel it later.
He smiled so wide it hurt. âItâs perfect. Wouldnât you say, darling?â
Sophia demurred, her cheeks a convincing shade of pink. âYou are too generous, Thomas. I shall have my wedding gown made to match it, though itâs too large for a ring. Shall I wear it as a necklace or a brooch?â
âOh, a necklace, definitely a necklace. You shall look ravishing, my dear.â The princess closed the box and handed it to Hope. She picked up the note, and without looking at it folded it twice lengthwise and tucked it into the puckered crease between her breasts.
Mr. Hopeâs pulse skittered as he held the box in his hands.
The French Blue
. Here, right now, in his very hands. Hands that began to shake. He squeezed the box, willing them to be still.
âThank you, Majesty, you have made a dream come true this night. You may
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