Vane frowned and looked down. He continued to pace.
Eyes widening, Minnie raised her brows. "If you want to change Patience's mind, you'll have to convince her her love is safe with you-that you value it, rather than see it as a millstone 'round your neck." She caught Vane's eye. "You'll have to convince her to trust you with her love."
Vane scowled. "There's no reason she can't trust me with her love. I wouldn't behave like her father."
"I know that and you know that. But how does Patience know that?"
Vane's scowl turned black. He paced more aggressively.
After a moment, Minnie shrugged and folded her hands. "Funny thing, trust. People with reasons not to trust can be very defensive. The best way to encourage them to give their trust is if the same trust-the complementary trust-is freely given to them."
Vane shot her a far from complimentary glance; Minnie raised her brows back. "If you
trust her, then she'll trust you. That's what it comes down to."
Vane glowered-mutinously.
Minnie nodded. Decisively. "You'll have to trust her as you want her to trust you, if you're going to win her to wife." She eyed him measuringly. "Think you're up to it?"
He honestly didn't know.
While he struggled with the answer to Minnie's question, Vane hadn't forgotten his other obligations. Half an hour after leaving Minnie, he was shown into the snug parlor of the house in Ryder Street shared by his uncle Martin's sons. Gabriel, so Vane had been informed, was still abed. Lucifer, seated at the table, engaged in devouring a plate of roast beef, looked up as he entered.
"Well!" Lucifer looked impressed. He glanced at the mantelpiece clock. "To what do we owe this unlooked-for-nothing less than startling-visit?" He waggled his brows. "News of an impending fixture?"
"Contain your transports." With an acid glance, Vane dropped into a chair and reached for the coffeepot. "The answer to your question is Minnie's pearls."
Like shedding a skin, Lucifer dropped his inanity. "Minnie's pearls?" His gaze grew distant. "Double strand, thirty inches if not more, exceptionally well-matched." His frown deepened. "Drop earrings, too, weren't there?"
"There were." Vane met his arrested gaze. "They're all gone."
Lucifer blinked. "Gone-as in stolen?"
"So we believe."
"When? And how?"
Briefly, Vane explained. Lucifer listened intently. Each member of the Bar Cynster had some special area of interest; Lucifer's specialty was gems and jewelry. "I came to ask," Vane concluded, "if you could sound out the cog-nescenti. If the pearls have slipped through our net and been passed on, I assume they'll pass through London?"
Lucifer nodded. "I'd say so. Any fence worth his salt would try to interest the denizens of Hatton Garden."
"All of whom you know."
Lucifer smiled; the gesture was not humorous. "As you say. Leave it with me. I'll report back as soon as I hear anything to the point."
Vane drained his coffee mug, then pushed back his chair. "Let me know the instant you hear."
An hour later, Vane was back in Aldford Street. Collecting a still sleepy Patience, he installed her in his curricle and made straight for the park.
"Any developments?" he asked as he headed his greys down one of the quieter avenues.
Yawning, Patience shook her head. "The only change, if change it be, is that Alice has turned even more prudishly odd." She glanced at Vane. "Alice declined Honoria's invitation. When Minnie asked why, Alice glared, and declared you were all devils."
Vane's lips twitched. "Strange to tell, she isn't the first to have labeled us that."
Patience grinned. "But to answer your next question, I spoke with Sligo-despite being left all alone, Alice did nothing more exciting than repair early to her chamber, where she remained for the whole evening."
"Praying for deliverance from devils, no doubt. Did Whitticombe attend the ball?"