"You recognize these?" Lilly asked as she looked over at Fitz.

He nodded, "I saw him with them once or twice. I thought he'd sold them by now." Fitz picked up the largest piece, a ruby about the size of an egg. "I especially remember this one. He said he got it off a sultan, or tippo or whatever they're called, in India. Said the bugger wore it in a hat or something."

He held the jewel up to the sliver of sunlight coming in and it gobbled up the light to shine it back out, glittering and sparkling. Lilly recognized avarice and admiration in Fitz's gaze, but then he sighed and set the stone on the bed where they had laid out the others.

"The rest of these are from various officers throughout the war. Wright had a knack for finding the richest ones and cutting them down," Fitz smiled and the admiration and affection he felt for his friend was evident in his countenance.

Lilly was half-horrified, half-intrigued by the story. Fitz looked far away and fond, as if remembering good times.

"We had a grand time giving those bastards hell," at the last moment he looked over at Lilly as if remembering she was present. "Pardon the expression, lass."

She shook her head, disregarding his apology, "So, these are spoils of war, but that doesn't tell us why he left them here, with us."

"He didn't leave them here with 'us;' he left them with you." he stated pointedly. "This must be why he left. Why he was asking Lofton…There was a man, Fretwell, an old enemy of Wright's, who saw these jewels, during the war and swore he'd stop at nothing to get them." Fitz shuddered and it was as his body was remembering something painful. "He hounded Wright, but he died at Badajoz. Maybe he told someone about them and they're after them."

Lilly looked at the offending gems. Diamonds, sapphires and rubies were nothing to her. She had plenty of each in her own jewel chest at home. Some of which had been passed down in her parents families respectively for generations. Precious they were, but not enough to risk her life or happiness.

"Why not sell them?" she asked.

"These are his insurance. If there are dangerous men after him they'll keep him alive as long as he can lead them to the jewels. Without them, they have no reason to keep him alive. That must be why he let you become promised to another man. No one would believe he'd left them with the Marquess of Stallford's betrothed," he answered.

However, she wasn't satisfied with his explanation, "But why? Why leave them with me?" She couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice. It seemed to her that he was leaving the jewels as some pathetic balm to her broken heart. Surely he knew she'd rather face any danger at his side then any amount of gems. Didn't he?

"Don't you see, lass, you're the only one he can trust with them. These are everything he worked for his entire miserable soldier's life. They're his assurance of comfort in his old age, the fruits of his toil and bloody service to King George across Europe and beyond," he spoke earnestly and with conviction, but she couldn't tell if he was completely serious or simply being loyal to his apparently faithless friend.

"Do you think he's coming back for them?" she asked.

Fitz hand went absently to his swollen face. She realized that had been what the fight had been about. He had tried to talk Wright into staying.

Then he met her eyes, "I think, lass, if he doesn't he's a damned fool, and not because of any glittering stones."

Felipe had to get out of there yet again. One minute Pip had been waxing poetic about her old reptile bones and impressions of ancient plants in stone and the next Felipe was filled with an aching homesickness.

She was so passionate about naturalism and science he wanted to take her home to California and Diego, who would love her. She reminded him of his old friend, who had always wanted so much to interest Felipe in his experiments, but Felipe had always been more interested in fencing and action. Right now, he'd give just about anything to listen to one of Diego's long winded explanations. He remembered how he would meet Don Alejandro's eyes over Diego's shoulder and try not to laugh as the older man rolled his eyes expressively. He couldn't help thinking how much he knew his family would approve of Pip and how much he felt she'd love them, and the homesickness coupled with the heartsickness made him miserable. He left the house again to roam the streets of London.

The snow wasn't fresh anymore. In places he saw the effects of the constant haze of smoke. It was yellowing and browning the once pristine white. The magic sheen was leaving the winter and the city right before his eyes.

"Felipe!" it was Charlie. "Everything alright?"

The Englishman practically ran to his friend. Smiling. Charlie was always smiling. Was he never in a bad mood? And why was this bothering Felipe all of a sudden? He wanted to shout at him, but he couldn't, so he scowled.

"Homesick, old boy? I understand. I hated being away from this smoky foggy island," and his comical expression made Felipe's irritation melt away. His unfailing optimism and sense of the ridiculous was just infectious. Charlie always had a way to lighten his mood, but then Felipe wasn't a naturally dour person.

As his friend coaxed him to laugh, a dark figure on a black horse raced by.

Toronado? Zorro?

Felipe blinked and gazed blankly at the figure. The horseman stopped, and Felipe could see the white stockings on the animal, and the rider was darkly dressed but he certainly wasn't Diego. However, somehow the bearing of the man reminded him of his old friend. When the man dismounted and turned toward them, Felipe recognized him. Rossendale, the Marquess of Stallford.