She pretended innocence. She pulled at the seal, frowned, then shook it close to her ear.

“It unscrews.” He sounded disappointed.

She made a small, girlish sound of achievement as the cylinder came apart. For a second she thought it contained a crucifix, as did her father’s, for she could see a similar human figure with arms spread wide.

Yet this was no religious symbol of ancient power. It was a depiction of a power far older than Christ’s, as old as humanity itself. It was a woman, arms spread wide, her legs, too, splayed apart. Her head was back, her hips thrust forward and, tiny though the statue was, there was a hint of lust and abandon about the small, naked figure. Sir Grenville chuckled. “Distasteful, is it not?”

She carefully joined the two halves, hiding the naked woman in her pleasure. “My father would have disliked it, sir. Perhaps that is why he threw his away.”

He held out a pudgy, white hand for the seal and, reluctantly, Campion dropped it into his palm. He smiled. “Threw it away?”

“We looked for it, sir. Everywhere. We couldn’t find it.”

He waved her wearily toward the chair. “Sit down.”

She obeyed him. She was feeling proud of herself. She might not have succeeded in finding out the truth from Sir Grenville Cony, but she had avoided his traps. She had not betrayed her own seal, and though she still did not know why the seals were important, she had learned that this rich, powerful man desired to possess them.

Sir Grenville tucked the Seal of St. Mark carefully and laboriously away. “You are right, Miss Slythe, that the Seal of St. Matthew was to be yours on your twenty-fifth birthday.” His left hand had begun its surreptitious journey once more. “In that year our little Covenant expires, our agreement is no more, and the seals become worthless. Apart from their intrinsic value, of course, which is not inconsiderable.” He smiled at her. “I thought the seals were pretty, a bauble a young lady might want, and so I persuaded your father to give you the Seal of St. Matthew at the end of its useful existence. He had one daughter, and why, I thought, should that daughter not possess one thing of beauty? Your father was not happy, but he agreed, humoring me no doubt. It was too good to be thrown away, but perhaps you are right. Perhaps, in a fit of virtuous wrath, he discarded the seal. Such a shame.” He shrugged. “Was that all you came to see me about?”

It was not, but she was sure the truth was not to be found here. She was hot in her new cloak, and the sight of the river sparkling beyond Cony’s windows had made her want to be out of this house. She wanted to be with Toby. She gathered the skirts of her cloak in her hands and nodded. “That is all, sir.”

“How very curious, Miss Slythe, that you should come all the way from Werlatton to ask me such simple questions. And I note you have not finished your tea! Do so, child! Do so! Worry not, you will leave soon.” He smiled at her as she settled back on the uncomfortable chair. His hand, she saw, had stopped its journeys to and from the pie.