Free Reluctant Bride by Joan Smith Page B

yours.”
    “He probably thinks it is strass glass. Maybe Greenie thought so when he sold it.”
    “No, the dealer would know what he was about, if the pickpocket did not. I don’t think those are real diamonds, Miss Braden.”
    “Of course they are. He hasn’t had time to pry them out and make paste replicas. We must get them. What’s the name of the place?”
    “Reuben’s Pawn Shop,” he read, standing back to crane his neck up to the sign. “We’ll come here first thing tomorrow morning.”
    “Tomorrow morning?” I asked. “We cannot leave them here all night. You said yourself they could easily be stolen. We must find out where Reuben lives, and go to his place. He’ll have to come back and let us in.”
    “It can wait till morning. They are safe enough.”
    “I don’t intend to leave them here over night.”
    “I have other plans for my evening.”
    “Not now! It is no longer necessary to find your way to the wrong side of town, to look for the fence person.
    “Those were not the plans I referred to.”
    “I see. You refer to the bit of the wrong side of town that has registered at the inn, do you? You are a fast worker, Sir Edmund.”
    “I will not stir a finger to find Reuben this night,” he answered.
    I am very happy to relate Mitzi defended me. She never likes to hear anyone speak roughly to me. She jumped up and sunk her teeth into his boots. Had he been wearing pantaloons, he would have felt it.
    “And we’re getting rid of this foul-natured bitch too!” he threatened, shaking her off.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Mitzi accompanied us on our expedition to find Mr. Reuben, as soon as we returned to the inn to tell Maisie of our plan and seen her to the room abovestairs. As it was getting so late, Sir Edmund booked rooms for us all to remain overnight. Even before returning to the inn, we learned Mr. Reuben’s residence from a small coffee shop next door. The proprietor, as I pointed out to Sir Edmund, was bound to know him, from having done business in the neighboring shop. It would take a Sir Edmund to insist it was utterly unlikely the two shopkeepers had ever spoken to each other over the years.
    The coffee shop keeper knew all about Reuben. “He don’t live just around the corner,” he told us. “Reuben, he lives out of town, and comes in each morning on his mule. Down churchhouse walk you’ll find him. Take the road out of town a mile, turn left and follow the footpath that meanders all crinkum-crankum another half mile or more. Reuben lives in the shack place you’ll come to. There hard by the stream you’ll find him. Mind he may not be sober, so late in the day.”
    “Thank you,” Sir Edmund said, disliking the inconvenience of the location. The proprietor was unhappy, too, to receive no pourboire for his help.
    I nudged Blount’s arm. He glanced at me, frowning. “Give him something,” I said in a low voice.
    “What?”
    “Pay him. Give him a tip.”
    “Oh!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin of a denomination that was much too large. The man bit it before tossing it into his change box.
    “There is obviously no point in going tonight,” Sir Edmund said, when we left the coffee shop. “His shack way to hell in the woods somewhere, and he dead drunk by now.”
    “She’ll wait for you, Sir Edmund.”
    “That is not why I refuse to go. We’ll wait till morning.”
    “If I must go alone at night, I hope you will at least loan me your carriage and a boy to accompany me,” I answered.
    “Miss Braden,” he began in a frustrated, holding-back-his-temper kind of a way.
    “That is quite all right. Mitzi will come with me. How I wish Colonel Fortescue were here.” I lifted Mitzi into my arms as we headed back to the inn. Poor girl,” I said. “Bad Lizzie hasn’t given you any dinner. You shall have a nice beefsteak for a reward.” She cooed softly, then turned her head aside to snap at Blount, who was muttering into his collar.
    “Shut up!” he