“I don’t know what to tell you,” the director admitted as she served tea and they all settled into chairs around a conference table in a small, serviceable room.
“Anything you have to say will help,” Hale told her. He took a steaming cup from her hands and let his fingers brush against hers, not flirting, but a comforting touch. “Just start at the beginning.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. She couldn’t face him as she said, “The earl’s man of business—an attorney named Allaway—contacted me a few weeks ago. The earl’s health is failing, he said. They fear he won’t live long into next year and they’re preparing his estate. Many of his assets are entailed—attached to the title, you know. Technically, they belong to the earldom itself and not the earl, so they will pass automatically to the new earl and cannot be sold. But there is some art, some land.”
The woman took a deep breath. Kat could tell this felt like confession. It was going to be good for her soul.
“And the egg…The egg was one of his personal assets. According to Mr. Allaway, the earl and his heir are not on good terms. His Lordship wished to donate as many of his personal assets as possible to various charities before it was too late. We were an obvious fit for one of the Eggs of the Magi.”
“So the old boy is disinheriting everyone?” Hale said with a wry smile in Kat’s direction.
“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted.
Hale shrugged. “Sounds familiar.”
Elizabeth turned to Kat as if perhaps she’d missed something. And, perhaps, she had. But now wasn’t the time for Kat to relay the events that followed Hazel’s death and the toll that took on Hale and his family. So, instead, Kat asked, “This man of business—Allaway—was the one who told you the earl was going to donate the egg?”
“Yes. We went through the lawyers. It took several weeks, but eventually we signed the forms. The earl’s only stipulation was that the egg be auctioned before the end of the year—preferably before Christmas. That didn’t leave us much time, of course, but…”
Elizabeth Evans looked down at her hands, picked at a fingernail. “I knew that call would be the most important of my career. I just didn’t know how.”
“Why the rush?” Kat asked. “Surely this kind of thing would be far more successful if you had some time?”
The woman seemed to ponder this, as if she’d spent a lot of time asking herself that very question. “I’m not certain,” she said at last. “I assumed it had something to do with taxes and estate laws. Everyone seems to think the old earl won’t live much longer. My understanding was that it needed to be done before he passed.”
“So the lawyers knew the charity would have the egg. Plus this Mr. Allaway, the man of business?” Kat asked, returning to the only things that mattered.
“Yes.” The woman nodded. “I suppose so.”
“What happened next?” Kat asked. “After the forms were signed and the legalities were taken care of?”
“We arranged for an armored truck to pick the egg up at the earl’s country seat near the Scottish border. They brought it to London and put it in a bank vault, like you said. And then…”
She kept her gaze on her hands, and Kat saw the tension in them. Her knuckles turned white and she started to shake, not with grief but with rage.
“And then I met him.”
Kat didn’t want to rush her. Some things can only be done in their own time. And so Kat sat patiently, waiting, until Ms. Edwards said, “Then I met Robert Knightly.”
For a moment, Kat felt all the air leave the room. It was like the windows of the office began to frost over and her breath began to fog. It didn’t feel like Christmas, just the dead of winter, when Kat said, “He said his name was Robert Knightly?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Hale ease forward, sit straighter.
“Yes.” Elizabeth looked between the two of them, something like hope shining in her eyes. “Does that mean something? Does it help? I assumed it was an alias as soon as he… I mean as soon as I realized the egg was…” She trailed off, then looked away again. “He was very charming.”
Kat turned to Hale who had already raised one eyebrow. In a way, things had just become a lot worse and a lot better, simpler and far more complicated.
“He was so very charming,” Elizabeth said again as if replaying every moment in her mind.
“Oh,” Kat said. “I don’t doubt it.”
Kat turned to look at Hale, who looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to break things. Kat was leaning toward the latter. A whole conversation happened in that look and Elizabeth Evans couldn’t help but see it.
“Do you think there’s any way that is his real name?” she asked.
“No.” Kat quickly shook her head. “I’m definitely sure it isn’t.” She cut the woman a shy smile. “But every little bit helps.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s confidence faltered a bit, but then she seemed to remember something. Kat watched her reach for a notebook, then flip to a page. “I sketched him. I’ve a little talent. Really, it’s more of a hobby, but… I made this. It wasn’t so hard. He was the sort of man who leaves an impression.”
As she turned the pad toward Kat, she admitted. “He was handsome.”
“The best ones always are,” Kat said, taking the drawing and looking down at dark hair and a strong jaw, eyes that even in a pencil sketch seemed to draw a person in and reveal all their secrets.