Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (29 page)

At the crossroads, he handed her the reins and jumped down to untie his horse. 'You'll be able to see well enough in the dark?' he inquired politely.

'Yes. The ring will be sent to you tomorrow.'

Good.' He could feel them revert back to their former roles.

The Christmas truce they had implicitly negotiated was already evaporating.

'Stockport,' she called. 'Why did you do it?'

Brandon pulled his horse alongside the wagon. 'I did it for you. You won't have to rob any houses for a while.'

'Then you can't catch me,' her voice teased.

'Exactly. Happy Christmas.' He

the big bay into a

gallop and set off, leaving The Cat to contemplate what of

wish he had granted her.

When the intersection disappeared behind him, Brandon slowed his bay to a cautious lope. It wouldn't do to have his stallion step in a rabbit hole because he'd acted foolishly. He'd hoped the cold wind generated by his brief gallop would have had a sobering effect. He desperately needed it.

There was no escaping it, he had allowed himself to be caught up in the emotions The Cat had evoked in him. As a result, he'd acted rashly. What if someone discovered he'd knowingly spent the day with The Cat and had done nothing to fulfil his legal obligations? Those ramifications would exile him from polite society for ever, if not see him tried for a of justice.

To top off the list of questionable decisions he'd made, he

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had just granted The Cat immunity. Immunity! What had he been

back there at the crossroads? He didn't have to search long for his answer. The Cat might have uncouth methods, but, from what he had seen today, her heart was pure gold. She had not lied to him about why she stole.

No matter what he'd experienced today, there was no future in pursuing The Cat beyond his capacity as the local magistrate.

He detested the dichotomy it put him in. He detested the idea that his success relied on her demise. Unless.. .

An inspiration began to form. Brandon's pulse raced as the possibility took shape. Perhaps there was a compromise between their situations if he could convince her to give up the mad game. She'd have her freedom. He'd have his mill. But for his plan to succeed, he had to figure out who she was. He could not protect her otherwise.

While he learned much that day about The Cat, he had no further clue as to her identity. The only link was through the whiny spinster Eleanor Habersham. The correlation between the

of a handsome spinster, who hid her form in ugly gowns, and the appearance of The Cat four months prior could not be ignored. The only way to confirm that would be to question Eleanor directly.

Eleanor might have routed him from her house, but she could not rout him from someone else's home. The thought brought a smile to Brandon's lips as he pulled into the stable yard. He didn't know where The Cat would be tomorrow night, but he knew with a fair amount of certainty where Eleanor Habersham would be-Mrs Dalloway's card party. The matron had mentioned it at the masquerade. He had not thought to attend, but circumstances had changed. Instead of wanting to avoid the boring card party, he was starting to look forward to it.

Mrs Dalloway's card party was complicating her plans immensely, Nora groused, jabbing at a ripped hem with her needle

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Pickpocket Countess

as she sat in front of the Grange's fireplace, turning over the dilemma in her head. Eleanor was expected at the party, but The Cat needed to return Stockport's amethyst ring that evening or he'd think she'd welshed on their agreement.

Technically, S tockport was expendable. There wasn't much Stockport could do if she didn't return the ring, but it bothered her that Stockport might think the worst of her, especially after what they'd shared yesterday.

Nora pricked her finger and muttered a before

on the wounded digit. Her stitches were as unbalanced as her thoughts. S tockport was getting to be a hazardous distraction.

There was nothing for it. The Cat would have to return the ring herself. She would go after the card party. Nora's heart sped up at the prospect of encountering Stockport. Already, she was anticipating the inevitable sharp-edged conversation.

Perhaps they would sip brandy together as they had done before.

She might allow herself to

him again. After all, once the

ring was returned, The Cat would have little reason to seek him out. The Cat must turn her attention in the New Year to other investors who could be more easily influenced to abandon the factory project. Yes, tonight would be The farewell to

Brandon Wycroft and it would be for the best.