“I know,” said Sebastian.
It was in 1806 that the Prince first instituted a governmental inquiry against Caroline in an attempt to rid himself of the wife he’d loathed at first sight. He accused her of everything from witchcraft to adultery, but in the end the “delicate investigation” failed in its objective. In retaliation, the Prince—spoiled, petulant, and endlessly indulgent of himself and his string of mistresses—cut off virtually all funds to his wife’s household, leaving her in near poverty.
“In other words,” said Sebastian, staring off toward the river, where the early morning mist was beginning to lift as the sun rose higher into a soft blue sky, “Caroline began selling her father’s gem collection to pay for her and her mother’s living expenses.”
“Discreetly, of course.”
“She must have been very discreet, if Prinny never caught wind of it.”
Von Riedesel gave a slight bow. “Just so.”
It suddenly struck Sebastian as deliciously ironic that the rare blue diamond now reportedly coveted by the Crown Prince had been previously sold behind his back by his own wife. “And the French Blue?”
“I never said Duke Carl Wilhelm possessed the French Blue. He did, however, have in his collection a large diamond of the darkest sapphire.”
Sebastian ducked his head to hide his smile. “Who bought this large blue diamond from Caroline?”
“You don’t seriously expect me to tell you that, do you?”
“No. But you can tell me if I’m wrong. It was Hope, wasn’t it? Not Henry Philip Hope, but Thomas.”
Wordlessly, the Black Brunswicker kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, his body rising and falling in tireless synchronicity with his horse’s motion.
Hero was standing in the entry hall, her head bowed as she worked at buttoning her gloves, when Sebastian walked in the house.
“Another crossing sweep interview?” he asked, handing his rid-
ing crop, hat, and gloves to Morey.
She wore a white cambric walking dress with a high-collared spencer of blue silk ruched down the front. “Yes,” she said, her attention all for her buttons, which were extensive. “I’m particularly looking forward to this one. It’s a little girl.” She looked up, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. And he found himself wondering again, unpleasantly, just how much—and what—she knew that she wasn’t telling him. She said, “Discovered something interesting, have you?”
He cast a significant glance toward the library, and she walked ahead of him into the room, going to stand beside the empty hearth while he quietly closed the door.
He said, “How did you know that the late Duke of Brunswick sent his jewel collection to his daughter the Princess of Wales for safekeeping?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
He studied her flawlessly composed face. The problem was that the most obvious explanation—that she had heard it from her father—made no sense. Jarvis had always served the King and the Crown Prince; yet von Riedesel and Caroline had maneuvered behind the Prince on this. So why had Jarvis kept their secret?
She said, “Was von Riedesel able to tell you who bought the French Blue?”
“He claims the big blue diamond from the Duke’s collection did not come from the French Crown Jewels. But the gem in question was indeed purchased by Thomas Hope.”
“So Collot told you the truth?”
“He did. The problem is, I don’t understand how Collot could have come to have that interesting piece of information. I’m also puzzled as to why Hope would be selling the stone now. He told me himself that this is not a good time to be selling gems. So why is he putting one of the most famous diamonds in the world on the market?”
“There are rumors. . . .”
“Yes?” he prompted when she hesitated.
“The wars are putting an increasing strain on both international merchants and the old-style banking companies. The disruption of trade has simply been too extensive and gone on far too long.”
“Are you saying Hope and Company is in financial trouble?”
She nodded. “I understand things have reached such a pass that they may soon be forced to sell to the Barings. They’re trying to hold off, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time.”
“The sale of a large, rare diamond might conceivably raise enough to keep the company afloat.”
“It might . . . if the value of gems weren’t so sadly depressed at the moment.”
Sebastian went to lean one hip against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed at his chest.
“What?” asked Hero, watching him.
“Now, there’s a motive for murder I hadn’t considered.”
Hero shook her head. “I don’t understand.”