He stared at her, devastation pummeling to the pit of his stomach, each word a blow as debilitating as if she’d fired on him with a sixty-cannon warship. She did not have the jewels. He stared at the relief on her face. He’d been so sure Stephen had cherished the girl with the huge green eyes and hair of spun copper above all else in the world. He was so sure he had given her the Burnhaven jewels for safekeeping. How could anyone not give her everything he possessed? But she did not have them. He could see it written on her face. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” She shook her head, still taking in big gasps of air as if just surfacing from too long beneath the water. “Then what were you so fearful I would take from you? What did Stephen give you that you refuse to give up?” Her shoulders lifted.
