Bartholomew and Matthias turned eager eyes to me as they received their assignments. The brothers enjoyed helping investigate these little problems, and I often envied them their exuberance. Bartholomew had become my valet-cum-errand runner in order to train himself to be a gentleman's gentleman, but while he now held himself above other footmen, including his own brother, he'd never forgo the chance to help on one of my inquiries.

Grenville provided the shillings for hackneys to each of us, and we went our separate ways, agreeing to meet at a coffee house in Pall Mall that evening.

Grenville had been given the Bond Street area, because the proprietors there knew him well. Grenville was a Bond Street shop owner's greatest treasure. Not only did he have exquisite taste, but he paid his bills.

Matthias and Bartholomew hastened north toward Marylebone, and I turned to Conduit Street and Hanover Square.

I found that pawnbrokers were less willing to speak to me unless I made the pretense of wanting to purchase something. Questions were not welcome, and clients kept in confidence.

I let them infer that I shopped for a gift for a friend and had difficulty choosing. The proprietors thawed a bit as I looked over bracelets that had once adorned the wrists of debutants and earrings pawned by wealthy matrons. That the jewelry now lay in trays for me to pick over meant that they'd been sold to pay off the ladies' gaming debts. In a world in which highborn women had little to do but gamble and gossip, ruin lay very close to the surface.