As soon as Cécile had left for dinner, I changed into a modest, dark blue dress and a veiled bonnet, careful to choose something that would not draw any attention to my presence. I waited until it was safe to assume Lady Londonderry's guests had been seated, then headed to the Savoy, having my driver leave me two blocks from the hotel lest anyone recognize my carriage. Once inside, I walked quickly past the desk. The lobby was relatively quiet, most of the guests already gone for the evening or dining in the restaurant. I slipped up the stairs to the fourth floor and knocked on Mr. Berry's door. There was no answer. Excellent. I went to the back stairs and descended to the lower level, where in short order I found three maids drinking tea in a small room.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you," I said as they all leapt to their feet. "I'm in the most terrible bind. I was visiting a...a gentleman this afternoon and am afraid that I lost a bracelet in his room. It's rather awkward, you see, as he's engaged to a friend of mine."

The maids, wide-eyed, watched me closely.

"There once, long ago, had been an attachment between us, and I only called on him to say good-bye. But if my friend were to discover that I'd seen him alone, she would be dreadfully upset."

"Who is the gentleman?" one of the maids asked.

"Mr. Charles Berry. He's in room 423," I replied. "Can you help me?"

"I don't see what we could possibly do," said the oldest of the three girls, who appeared to have taken on the role of spokesman.

"Couldn't you let me into the room? No one's there now. It would only take me a moment to find my bracelet."

"We could lose our jobs," the maid said.

"He's unlikely to return soon. No one will ever know."

One of the other girls laughed. She had pretty eyes and a pert smile. "From what I can tell, the gentleman in that room wouldn't object to finding you there anyway."

"Gabby!" the spokesman exclaimed.

"Oh, hush up, Bridget. We all know what sort of gentleman he is. I say we let her in and hope she steals something."

"Let me assure you that I would do no such thing," I said.

"I'll let you in," Gabby said. Bridget glared at her.

"I promise there will be no trouble for you."

At this, the third girl broke her silence. "I wish you could cause trouble for him," she said, bursting into tears.

"Has he hurt you?" I asked. She cried harder, and I found it not difficult in the least to believe the worst about Mr. Berry. "Did you tell anyone?"

"Who could she tell?" Bridget asked. "No one would believe her. And even if someone did, it wouldn't matter. He's practically the king of France, you know."

"Well, I believe you," I said, taking her hand. "For what little that's worth. I give you my word that I shall try to find a way to help you."

"Come with me, milady," Gabby said. "Let's get you into that room." Once upstairs, the girl unlocked the door. I thanked her and sent her back downstairs. "Promise you won't forget Molly," she said as she left.

I closed and locked the door, looking at the space before me. There was a sitting room and a bedroom, neither of which was particularly neat. Mr. Berry had left gloves, letters, and discarded papers scattered on every surface. I began to methodically sift through everything, careful to return each object to its place in the mess. The number of bills I found was staggering, and it was clear from the careless way they had been tossed about that paying them was of little concern to Mr. Berry. Most likely that would fall to Lady Elinor's solicitor as wedding plans with Isabelle were solidified.

I went into the bedroom, feeling more than a little uneasy to enter the space where this odious man slept. The wardrobe was full of clothing, all of it Savile Row's best and certainly acquired on credit. I begrudgingly admitted that the man's taste, at least in clothes, was excellent. The pockets of his coats contained nothing but cigarettes and still more bills. I was about to close the cabinet door when I noticed something leaning against the back wall of the armoire behind a row of shoes. It was an oversized book containing reproductions of paintings by Fragonard. If memory served, the artist was a favorite of Louis XIV's. It was the only book in Mr. Berry's suite. I opened it and flipped through the pages, hoping to uncover something between them. Luck was with me. Partway through the book I found a piece of paper folded in half. On it was a list of objects that had been owned by Marie Antoinette, each item followed by the name and address of the person to whom it currently belonged. Everything that had been stolen was marked with a small star. The last two entries were the pink diamond and something described as Personal Correspondence. Both were listed as being in the Francis house. There was no mention of the silver snuffbox.

I jumped at the sound of a key rattling in the lock. Would Gabby have returned to the room? Surely Mr. Berry was not back this early in the evening. Even if he had tried to leave the Londonderrys', Cécile would have found a way to detain him. Desperate, I looked around for somewhere to hide. Using the wardrobe for such a purpose would be too obvious, and if, for some reason, Berry had returned, he would almost certainly open it to change his clothes. Panic filled me, and seeing that I had few options, I clutched the book and ducked behind the heavy velvet curtains. The door opened, and I heard footsteps too heavy to belong to the maid. They circled the sitting room slowly. Drawers opened and shut. Papers shuffled. Eventually, the steps moved to the bedroom. I stood as still as possible, hardly breathing, hoping that I would not be discovered. Whoever it was stopped in front of the wardrobe. More rummaging.

As the footsteps moved back to the sitting room, I could not resist peeking out from behind the curtain. I moved it slowly, just enough to look through the door into the other room, careful not to draw attention to myself. Colin Hargreaves stood not thirty feet away from me, carefully examining a piece of paper before putting it into his pocket.

8

My heart pounded against my chest so loudly that I worried he might hear it. This was foolish, of course, but I couldn't help it. I pressed against the window in an attempt to make myself as flat as possible. He was still in the sitting room but wasn't making any noise. An eternity seemed to pass before I heard his footsteps again. He came back to the bedroom, and it sounded as if he was looking under the bed and the mattress. He wants the book, I thought, wishing I'd had the sense to return it to the wardrobe before hiding. What should I do? Reveal myself?

I never had the opportunity to decide. All at once, the curtain was snapped away from me. With effort, I forced myself to meet Colin's eyes. "I've not before seen you so flustered," I said, hoping to deflect his anger with a smile. He grabbed me roughly by the arms.

"This is no time to joke. What are you doing here?"

"Apparently the same thing you are, although I suppose that had you arrived first you wouldn't have felt it necessary to hide when I entered the room."

"Emily, this is outrageous." His eyes flashed. "Wait for me in the lobby."

"I've already found that which you seek," I said, and handed him the book. "There's a list inside."

"Go downstairs."

"Not without you."

"We don't have time for this."

"Have you found anything useful? What was the paper you put in your pocket?"

"Nothing of consequence." He scrutinized the list of Marie Antoinette objects, then pulled out a small notebook and began scribbling furiously on it. When he finished, he replaced the list in the book and handed it back to me.

"What should I do with it?" I asked.

"Put it back where you found it."

I did as he directed, not liking at all the feeling of his being so displeased with me. The moment I closed the wardrobe door, he steered me firmly into the hallway, locking Mr. Berry's room behind us.

"How did you get a key?"

"Say nothing further, Emily. You've already done more than enough." I wanted to tell Gabby that we'd locked the door, but Colin's tight grip on my arm indicated that he was in no mood to sanction a trip down the back stairs. As we approached the guests' stairway, he released me. "It will not do for us to be seen leaving a hotel together. Return to your house at once and wait for me there."

Nearly an hour passed before he turned up at Berkeley Square, an hour that I spent wondering if I had gone too far in my investigations. Perhaps I was not so capable as I believed. I was filled with melancholy thoughts of self-doubt when Colin closed the door to my library behind him, and though he looked better composed than he had at the Savoy, his calm demeanor did little to hide his aggravation once he began to speak.

"I cannot believe that you would be so foolish as to — "

"Did you go back to Mr. Berry's room?" I interrupted, my confidence returning in the face of his rebuke.

"That is none of your concern."

"It most certainly is!"

"Never in my life would I have thought to find you sequestered in another man's hotel room."

I could not help but smile at this. "Not in another man's room? Should I take that to mean you have entertained the notion of finding me in yours?"

"Don't flirt with me, Emily." His tone was cold, but I detected the slightest beginning of a thaw in his dark eyes.

"But surely you and I wouldn't require hotels for clandestine meetings. After all, we're each in possession of two perfectly good houses — I've got three if you count the villa, though I suppose — "