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‘Then there is nothing to fear in giving me a closer look.’
Sarah’s heart beat wildly in her chest as Lady Everill released the gold pin from the hinge and handed the bracelet to the Dowager. The answer to her problems was inches away. It was excruciating. She just wanted time alone with that bracelet! Was that too much to ask?
The Dowager held the bracelet up to her eye and studied each engraved gold square linked together by individual hinges, as well as the two small paintings done on porcelain. She turned it over a number of times, looked at the back of the links and weighed it in her hand. ‘What say you, Miss Forrester?’
‘It’s a lovely bracelet,’ Sarah replied, wishing the Dowager had not brought attention her way.
The Dowager placed the bracelet on Lady Everill’s wrist and refastened the pin. As she did so, she resettled herself on the sofa and stepped on Sarah’s left foot—hard! Who knew such a small woman possessed such a strong foot?
‘You’re fortunate, Harriet. Lord Everill has fine taste in jewellery.’ The Dowager took a sip of tea from the cup that had been resting on the table at her elbow. She looked at the mantel clock across the room. ‘How I wish Lord Hartwick knew how to tell time.’ She sighed. ‘If he does not arrive in the next ten minutes, we will be forced to proceed without him.’
The Dowager hadn’t mentioned she was inviting Lord Hartwick when she told her about this evening. At least with Lord Hartwick present, the evening would not be that dull of an affair. Trying to best him in their verbal sparring matches was always entertaining. She simply had to make sure he did not distract her away from lifting Lady Everill’s bracelet.
* * *
Ten minutes later, the Dowager had given up on Hartwick and asked everyone to join her in the library to begin the evening’s festivities. Perhaps Lady Everill would fall asleep during the lecture and Sarah would have an easier time slipping the bracelet from her wrist. She needed to find a way to sit next to the woman.
When Lady Everill stood, the bracelet slipped from her wrist and fell to the floor. It took a moment for Sarah to believe it had really happened, but glancing at Katrina’s wide-eyed stare gave her the reassurance she wasn’t dreaming. In an instant Sarah stepped forward and covered it delicately with her foot. Bending down, she placed Lady Everill’s bracelet into her slipper while pretending to adjust the ribbon around her ankle. She prayed the bracelet wouldn’t jingle as she walked.
‘Forgive me for the hour,’ Hartwick called as he entered the drawing room. His finely cut black tailcoat accentuated his lean muscular frame. The crisp white cravat he wore was tied neatly and that lazy lock of shiny black hair was close to falling into his sharp blue eyes.
The Dowager surveyed him as if she, too, was assuming she’d find evidence of time spent in a woman’s bed. ‘We were about to begin without you. What you need, my lord, is a wife to manage you.’
‘What I need is a watch. There will be no wife for me.’
‘Do go to the back of the line, Hartwick,’ she instructed, ‘I’ll chastise you later for your tardiness.’
‘I look forward to it, Your Grace,’ he replied, passing Julian and Katrina with a smile.
His friend gave him a slight, disapproving shake of his head.
Hartwick responded with a carefree shrug before his watchful gaze landed on Sarah as she walked carefully towards the guests.
‘Do come along, Miss Forrester,’ the Dowager said. ‘I assure you Lord Hartwick does not bite.’
A devilish twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he tipped his head to her in greeting. ‘At least, not in polite company,’ he said low enough that only Sarah could hear.
‘Then I count myself lucky we are among the Dowager’s guests. But be advised, should you bite me, I will bite back.’
He placed his head closer to her ear. The warmth of his breath danced along her neck, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. ‘If that is meant as a deterrent, you’ve missed your mark. I now have the unnatural desire to pull you away and find the most delicious places on your body to sink my teeth into.’
No man had ever been that forward in their speech with her. The bold suggestion brought an odd quiver below her stomach. Thank heavens the cad would never know.
‘Shall we wait a moment for you to steady yourself, or did that hesitation stem from your desire to steal away with me?’
Did he have to be so observant? ‘Not every woman falls for your charms, Hartwick. There is a rare breed of us that finds it quite easy to see through your false flattery.’
‘I never lie. Not to you. I’ll prove it.’ He looked deep into her eyes. The intense effect made her entire body still. ‘Miss Forrester, I find your beauty incomparable, your intelligence stimulating. Your body tempts the very core of me—’
‘Oh, do hush, Hartwick. If I could push you over right now, I would.’
The teasing grin on his face made it difficult to hold back her smile.
As they resumed walking, his attention dropped to the hem of her skirt and his brow wrinkled. ‘Have you injured your foot? Has Boreham finally done permanent damage to one of his dancing partners?’
If only she could use the clumsy lord as her excuse for the way she was walking. She attempted to adjust her gait, trying not to step directly onto the bracelet lodged in her shoe. Deflection was her best option. ‘What do you know of Lord Boreham’s knack for harming his dance partners?’
‘Since we were at Cambridge, I’ve witnessed many a woman leave the dance floors of England with a limp. So what is causing yours?’
‘I do not have a limp.’
‘Forgive me, your hobble.’
‘I tied my slipper too tight.’
‘Then we should stop so you can adjust it.’
‘It will loosen as we walk.’
‘Or it will loosen faster if we don’t stop and you retie it.’ He tugged her arm, bringing them to a halt.
She could retie it twenty times and it would not make one bit of difference. ‘It is best not to keep the others waiting. I assure you, it’s no inconvenience on my part. It will loosen on its own.’
Those sharp eyes narrowed on her, making her palms sweat.
A curious smile spread across his lips. ‘You are an unusual creature, Miss Forrester.’
As they finally reached the doorway of the library, Sarah was relieved she hadn’t jingled once during their short walk. However, she could not have the bracelet remain in her slipper the entire night. Eventually her hobble would give her away.
She noted Hartwick’s attention was drawn to the far end of the room where Sarah’s mother was speaking with Lady Everill.
‘Are you acquainted with her ladyship?’ Sarah asked, taking note of his furrowed brow.
‘We’ve met once or twice.’ He looked over at Sarah. ‘We don’t generally move in the same circles.’
‘I imagine conversing with chaperons is not your preference.’
‘I avoid it at all costs, if I’m honest. I don’t want them assuming that I’ve decided to find a bride.’
The Dowager cleared her throat, bringing everyone’s attention towards where she stood on the opposite end of the room near the massive fireplace. ‘I have invited you all here tonight to share with you the wonders of electricity.’
Sarah glanced at Hartwick, who eyed her sideways. All Sarah knew of electricity was the experiment she heard Mr Franklin had conducted with a kite over thirty years ago and Signor Galvani’s experiments on the reactions of muscles to electricity.
‘I’ve purchased an electrifying machine,’ she continued, stepping to the side and revealing a small cylinder on legs that came up to the petite Dowager’s knees. ‘It is ingenious really. If we crank this handle, it will create friction, which will carry an electrical shock from the machine through this string. If someone holds the string and you touch that person, the electricity will flow through them and into you.’ She looked around eagerly at her guests. ‘If one person would like to crank the machine, the rest of us can hold hands and receive a spark. Doesn’t that sound exciting?’
It did actually. How many people could say they knew what it was like to feel electricity move through their body?
‘Is it safe?’ Sarah’s father asked sceptically.
‘They would not sell them if they were not.’
He bobbed his head from side to side. ‘I don’t believe that’s entirely true.’
‘You may be our cranker, if you like, Mr Forrester,’ she said, apparently not wanting to miss the electrical shock herself.
Sarah’s father approached her side. ‘Do not hold that string,’ he quietly warned her.
Since Alexander died, he had become very protective of her. As a child, he had encouraged her adventurous nature. He had found it amusing. But now he feared he would lose her, too, and she was all he had left of his children. Yet how could he expect her to miss all the fun? Who knew if she would ever have the opportunity to try this again? And it was safe. The Dowager had confirmed it.
So when the stately old woman asked who would like to hold the string, Sarah couldn’t stop herself from immediately stepping forward—at the exact moment Hartwick did the same. They looked at each other and surprise flickered in his eyes.
There was a distinct clearing of her father’s throat behind her.
The Dowager clucked her tongue. ‘Only Lord Hartwick and Miss Forrester are brave enough to have a go?’
Katrina eyed the machine near her foot. ‘What does it feel like?’
‘A wonderful zing moves through your body,’ the Dowager replied, looking pointedly at Lord Sissinghurst.
‘Perhaps it’s best if a man holds the string,’ Sarah’s father said, still not convinced she would not spontaneously combust if she held it. ‘His body is more sound,’ he continued. ‘It will hold the greater amount of shock.’
Hartwick bounced on his toes as if he was restraining himself from going after the string. ‘Fear not, Mr Forrester. I shall be the sacrificial lamb and spare your daughter.’
But Sarah wanted to feel the shock first! Why should men have all the excitement in life? As the daughter of a diplomat she was forced to suppress her daring nature and appear subdued—or as close to subdued as was possible for Sarah. Back home, her brother had taught her how to ride a horse sitting astride without a saddle. She had climbed trees, swam in the ocean and had allowed two different men to kiss her. She lived for new experiences—experiences like having electricity run through her body.
‘The shock will be the same regardless of the size of the person holding the string, Mr Forrester,’ the Dowager replied to his question.
‘How long will it last?’ Lord Everill enquired from where he was inspecting the device over the rim of his spectacles.
‘As long as we continue to turn the crank and generate the friction.’
Lady Everill’s eyes grew wide. ‘How long do you intend for that to be?’
The Dowager shrugged. ‘However long we want. The residual effects can be quite fun. Electricity can make the strands of your hair raise. You can pick small pieces of paper up by merely waving your hand over them. And if you kiss someone who has been electrified, you will feel a sharp spark of fire from their lips.’
‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,’ Katrina said, stepping away from the device and approaching her husband’s side.
‘Their lips catch fire?’ Lady Everill all but shrieked.
‘No, Harriet, but it feels that way.’ The Dowager glanced once again at Lord Sissinghurst and they shared a smile. ‘Or so I’ve been told.’
‘Oh, dear Lord,’ Lyonsdale groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Sarah looked at Hartwick, who was rubbing his lips as if to wipe a grin off them. It wasn’t working very well.
If Sarah didn’t know any better, she would think the Dowager and Lord Sissinghurst had tried the kissing experiment themselves, but the woman had to be in her seventies. Surely people had no interest in kissing at that age. Did they?
The Dowager walked back to the machine. ‘I promise you. We will start with a short spark of electricity. It will not harm you. I know you are all curious. I am not the first person in London to hold an electrical soirée. Certainly you have heard of the others. Wouldn’t you love to say you have tried it, too?’
That was all it took for Lady Everill to agree. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said much too quickly.
Then everyone seemed to be in agreement.
‘Capital,’ the Dowager said with excitement shining in her eyes. We will try a few experiments for fun. Be warned, you should remove any substantial metal from your person. That would include jewellery, snuff boxes and the like.’
Wonderful! Now what was Sarah to do? She should have volunteered to crank the contraption. How was she to remove the bracelet without anyone noticing? Where would she put it? How horrible would it be if she kept it in her shoe?
‘My bracelet!’
All heads turned to Lady Everill and Sarah’s body grew cold. She was certain everyone would know the woman’s latest prized possession was in her slipper.
The Dowager’s clear voice gave her a small bit of comfort. ‘What is wrong, Harriet?’
‘My bracelet is missing! Oh, Eleanor, someone has stolen my bracelet!’
‘Nonsense! I can assure you no one here stole it. It must have fallen off. We will all help you search for it. Katrina, why don’t you and Miss Forrester look in the drawing room? You remember where we were sitting. Harriet, you, Everill, Mr and Mrs Forrester and I will search the hallway, and, Julian, you remain here with Hartwick to look for it.’
‘What does the bracelet look like?’ Hartwick enquired, looking at the lady in question.
‘It is engraved gold links and two of those links have small paintings on porcelain.’
Hartwick nodded in understanding while Sarah’s heart felt like it would jump out of her chest. Once she made it to the Crimson Drawing Room, her heartbeat slowed.
‘I cannot believe her bracelet just fell off her wrist like that,’ Katrina said, closing the door behind her and locking it.
Neither could Sarah and now she was fairly certain the Dowager had been eavesdropping on their conversation yesterday. ‘I have the woman’s bracelet in my slipper,’ she whispered back harshly. ‘I’m amazed I did not jingle down the entire hallway.’
‘As am I. I don’t know how you did it.’ Katrina opened the drawer of the game table and withdrew a piece of paper and a pencil. As Sarah sat to remove the bracelet, Katrina handed the drawing implements to her. ‘Use these, but be quick.’
The bracelet was of substantial weight, leaving Sarah to believe the links were solid. She studied each link and hinge, and found no way to open it. She placed it on the table and began to sketch it out to size. Although the back of the bracelet was free of any etchings, she took a rubbing of each link just to be certain she was not missing anything. Then she made indications of the colours of each of the images.
She folded the drawing and shoved it inside her stays, between her breasts. She was an intelligent woman. She could do this. She would not give in to doubt.
They discovered Lady Everill sitting in the library, fanning herself and drinking wine. Lyonsdale was pacing slowly near the doorway, studying the carpet under his feet.
‘We found your bracelet, Lady Everill,’ Katrina called out as they entered the room.
Lady Everill rushed to them, grabbed the bracelet out of Sarah’s hands and clutched it to her chest. ‘Oh, thank heavens.’
A loud thud came from under a nearby table, and Sarah dropped down to find Hartwick on his hands and knees, rubbing his head.
‘What are you doing under there?’
‘Searching for that bracelet,’ he bit out. ‘What did you think I was doing under here?’
Sarah shrugged at his unusually harsh tone.
‘See, Harriet,’ the Dowager said from the doorway. ‘No one had taken your bracelet. Wherever did you find it?’
