Wednesday, 23 September
At dawn the next morning, Colonel Otto von Riedesel was exercising a magnificent black Hanoverian on the Row in Hyde Park when Sebastian brought his own Arab mare in beside him.
The colonel glanced over at Sebastian, then looked away, his jaw set hard. A big man with a full ruddy face, small brown eyes, and a swooping mustache, he wore the uniform of the Black Brunswickers-or the Black Horde, as they were sometimes called. As a symbol of their state of mourning for the occupied Duchy of Brunswick-now under the control of Napoleon-the corps’ entire uniform was black: black boots, black trousers, black dolman, black shako. The only touches of color came from the blue of his dolman’s collar and the Brunswicker silver death’s-head on his black shako.
The two men trotted along in a strained silence filled with the creak of saddle leather, the pounding of their horses’ hooves on the wet earth, the chorus of birdsong rising from the sparrows waking in the misty elms lining the path. At last, as if goaded beyond endurance, the Brunswicker exclaimed, “Vhat the hell do you vant from me?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
Von Riedesel gave a loud snort.
Sebastian said, “When Daniel Eisler was murdered, he had in his possession a large blue diamond. I’m told that diamond was previously held by the late Duke Carl Wilhelm of Brunswick.”
“I am a simple soldier. Vhat makes you think I know of such things?”
“The diamond in question is in all probability a recut version of a stone that once formed part of the French Crown Jewels.”
The colonel reined in hard, the red of his cheeks darkening to an angry hue, his horse chafing at the bit. “If you mean to suggest that the present Duke’s father allowed himself to be bribed into-”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” said Sebastian calmly. “I frankly couldn’t care less how the Duke came into possession of the French Blue. I want to know what happened to the gem between the time it was acquired by Carl Wilhelm and when it showed up in the possession of Daniel Eisler.”
“I told you; I know nothing of this.” Von Riedesel set his spurs to his horse’s sides, and the black Hanoverian leapt forward.
Sebastian kept pace with him. “You’re quite certain of that, are you?”
“Yes!”
“I suppose you’re right; I should have directed my questions to the Prince Regent. As the Duke’s son-in-law and executor of his will, Prinny would surely know what happened to the diamond after the Duke’s death.” Sebastian showed his teeth in a smile. “Sorry to have troubled you, Colonel. Good day.”
He was turning his horse’s head toward the gate when von Riedesel stopped him. “Wait!”
Sebastian paused, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.
“Ride on vith me a moment,” snapped the Brunswicker.
Sebastian fell in beside him again.
Von Riedesel said, “Vhat I have to tell you is in the strictest confidence.”
“Of course.”
The Brunswicker set his jaw. “Six years ago, vhen it became obvious that Napoleon was liable to overrun Brunswick, Duke Carl Wilhelm decided to send his jewel collection to his daughter for safekeeping.”
“You mean to Princess Caroline.”
“Yes.”
Sebastian studied the Colonel’s tight red face. “He entrusted you to bring it here, did he?”
Von Riedesel nodded. “I carried it in my personal luggage. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long after I arrived in London that word reached us of the Duke’s death in battle. His vidowed Duchess-your own English Princess Augusta-fled to London and sought refuge with her daughter.” He hesitated, then said, “This was in 1806. You know of the shameful straits under which the Prince forced his wife to live?”
“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.”
“Eisler was more than just a diamond merchant; he was a wealthy man in his own right. What if he was unable to sell the diamond for the price Hope wanted? Hope might have decided to kill Eisler and steal his own gem so that he could claim the estimated value of the stone from Eisler’s estate and still keep the diamond.”
She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Thomas Hope? You can’t be serious.”
“You’d be surprised at the things men will do when they get desperate.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t believe it. He’s not that kind of man.”
“I must admit it seems an unlikely explanation to me, although for a different reason.”
“What’s that?”
Sebastian pushed away from the desk. In his mind’s eye, he again saw a desperate figure running down a muddy alley, heard the crack of a rifle, felt the spill of warm blood over his hands as he raised a dying boy into his arms.
“The shooter in the carriage.”