“Haven’t you clapped eyes on these already?” Rhys asked Jessica.
“Mowbray never permitted me to see them. All he said was that they were beyond anything I could ever conceive of, I was to capture the Brody gang to keep them secure, and that they weren’t for the likes of me.”
“The likes of you,” Ezra said with a growl.
The fury on her behalf burning in his eyes made warmth spread through Jessica’s chest.
“You’re in Sir Harold Mowbray’s employ?” Quentin’s gaze was sharp as she lowered the necklace.
“Was,” Jessica corrected her. “The sort of man he was, what he did, how he did it, that was unknown to me.”
“And now that you know,” Quentin pressed, “what do you intend to do with that information?”
“Nothing that will benefit him.”
Jessica’s answer seemed to satisfy the other woman, who placed the necklace back into the small chest before pulling out a pair of matching earbobs. Returning the earbobs to the box, Quentin removed a leather pouch. She emptied the contents into her cupped palm, and let out a whistle as diamonds both small and large filled her hand. They looked like moonlight made solid, bright and shining and glittering. These, too, she put back into the chest.
“Well?” Ezra demanded.
“Let me work a bit,” Quentin said, “and then I’ll have your answer.”
She took the chest from Tej and strode over to a battered wooden stool. Sitting down on the seat, she used her foot to nudge what appeared to be a box for holding tools closer.
“Bring that to me, love,” she said to Rhys, pointing at a heavy table shoved into the corner.
He carried it over with the ease that still astonished Jessica. It didn’t seem to signify how many times she had examples of the werewolves’ extraordinary strength, they continued to surprise her.
And yet Quentin watched this as though she’d witnessed it many times.
Once Rhys had brought her the table, Quentin set the chest containing the jewels atop it, then opened her tool box. She pulled out a square of velvet, which she spread out on the wooden surface, and then a series of precise implements, including pliers, tweezers, calipers, and clamps. She removed her spectacles and stuck a loupe into her right eye before laying the necklace on the velvet and bending over it.
There was silence as Quentin quickly and efficiently disassembled the necklace. Her hands moved carefully but with speed, breaking apart the bauble into individual gems. Then she turned her focus to the earbobs, giving them the same attention. Within minutes, an array of gleaming gemstones was arranged on the velvet.
Quentin used her calipers to measure each diamond and emerald. From her box of tools, she pulled out a scale and weighed each piece. She jotted in a tiny notebook, muttering to herself, and then, with a satisfied look, packed everything up again as tidily as a field surgeon.
“Boys,” she said, lacing her fingers together on the tabletop, “today, you have made me a happy woman. These’ll fetch a tidy sum when I take them to Antwerp.”
She stood and reached under her skirts. Several pouches were strapped to her thigh, and she unfastened them. From the pouches, she pulled out handfuls of coins. Not copper or silver, but genuine gold. She set stacks of coins on the table.
Jessica widened her eyes. She’d never seen so much gold in her life.
The men strode forward and examined the stacks of currency. Ezra rubbed his jaw as he counted each pile of coins.
“Content?” Quentin asked wryly.
“I’d hate for you to cheat us, Q,” Ezra said.
The woman placed her hand on the middle of her chest, fixing an affronted look on her face. “So many years between us, and you say such things.”
Ezra’s grave expression dissolved into a roguish grin. “Like accusing my own mother of defrauding me.”
“The hell I’m your mother,” Quentin fired back. “I’m your dear aunt.”
“Maiden aunt?” Tej asked with a smirk. He and Rhys collected the coins, depositing them into a series of canvas pouches they tucked into the wide leather belts at their waists.
Quentin snorted. “Hardly. Just the same, I’m old enough to understand it’s time our appointment’s over. The law might start sniffing around, and I need to be back in London before nightfall.”
“You might need protection,” Jessica said, “if you’re carrying such expensive cargo.”
