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any reaction to cross his controlled, expressionless face. “It may be a very long while.”
    Not a sign, not a quiver, not a twitch broke his solid, country-breed visage. “Smuggling again, milady?”
    “Wills!” The shock in her voice failed to hide the smile in her words. “You know those days are long behind me. Besides ...” She shrugged, and the smile escaped to dance on her lips. “There’s no money to be made smuggling these days.”
    She quirked an eyebrow and nodded toward the door. Wills immediately stepped to it and turned the key in the lock in unspoken understanding. He was the only one in London who knew of her nefarious past. A footman in her great-aunt’s house in those days, he had also served as her second-in-command, as her guardian and her confidant. In many ways he still did.
    When she’d moved to London she’d brought Wills along, elevating him to the position of butler. He ran her house, made sure her home and her life functioned smoothly. And, at least once a month, the bonds of mistress and servant vanished, and two longtime comrades shared a drink together.
    Sabrina moved to her wardrobe and rummaged in the farthest corner for a brandy decanter and glasses. Belinda would be scandalized if she ever learned of this highly improper ritual. Her daughter would never understand that while Wills’s birth dictated his station in life, his actions had earned Sabrina’s respect and friendship.
    She poured a glass, passed it to him, then gestured for him to sit in one of two chairs before the fireplace. Sabrina filled her own glass and settled herself in the remaining chair.
    Wills spoke first. “If not smuggling, then what is this unexpected departure about?” It always amazed Sabrina how the years vanished whenever she and Wills relaxed together like this. The confident, capable, imperious butler fell away, and in his stead sat the courageous older man, ever watchful of his young mistress’s safety, eager for adventure in his own right.
    Sabrina took a deep pull of the pungent liquor and savored the burn cascading down her throat. “Treasure. Gold. Hidden for twenty years and just waiting for the right person to come along.” She toasted him with a jaunty gesture. “And that person is me. But...” She sighed. “I can’t go without money.”
    She rose and strode to the jewels on the dresser. Regretfully, she tossed them all back in their chest. Silently, Sabrina bid them farewell, then closed the lid with a decisive snap.
    She turned to Wills and raised her chin in resignation. “I want you to sell these. It must be done quickly, but try to get a good price for them.”
    Sabrina cast a mournful glance at the box and handed it to Wills. She sank back in her chair and took another sip of the amber liquid. “I know that surely it’s sinful to love things, inanimate objects, the way I love these jewels, but... even if I burn in hell for it, I do truly love them.”
    Wills quickly tossed back a deep swallow of brandy, though not quite quickly enough to mask a choked chuckle.
    “Very well.” She laughed. “I know I sound absurd, but I had to sell all the jewels Jack gave me. And these I bought myself. With money I earned.”
    Wills cocked an eyebrow at her words.
    “Earned by smuggling, I admit,” she said, irritated by his unspoken admonishment, “but earned all the same.” She threw one last wistful gaze at the box. “It hardly matters, I suppose. I probably would have had to sell them sooner or later anyway.”
    Concern creased Wills’s face. “Money problems, milady?”
    She nodded, wrinkling her nose. “A bit. Oh, we have enough to live on, but there’s no money for anything extra. And nothing for a dowry.” She leaned forward eagerly. “That’s why I have to go after this gold, Wills. It’s my only hope.”
    His eyes narrowed in interest. “Would you be needing any help on this quest?”
    Surely the gleam in his eye must match her own. “Life has been fairly dull for