Cat and Mouse (6 page)

“This promises to be interesting,” she teased and he tossed her a ‘just watch me’ look.

They approached the door and Katrina felt nervous for the first time that evening. It wasn’t the fact that she and Jimmy attended together to pilfer goods for Mr Brenner, although that did poise her nerves on the brink somewhat, but her anxiety rose when she thought of that tall, green-eyed man whom she’d eluded that morning. Would he be there tonight? All at once the bloody, niggling thought wouldn’t let her be. If he did turn up and recognise her, she’d have to come up with an excuse as to why she had stayed in London and not taken her journey.
And he would ask, too. The meddlesome twit. Handsome, meddlesome twit
, she amended.

Katrina quietly scolded herself for the direction of her thoughts. Determined to succeed tonight, no matter the circumstance, she handed her caplet to the coat room attendant and accepted her dance card. Glancing down, she realised that she hadn’t seen one of those in what seemed like ages. She recalled them fondly from her coming-out. The silken cord with the tiny pencil attached, the names of the dancers scrawled across the lines—each in distinctive bold handwriting. With gloved fingers she caressed the card and a pair of laughing green eyes penetrated her subconscious. Pity she couldn’t fill it with the name of a certain inquisitive, broad-shouldered…
No
! She stopped herself before the thought could come to fruition. Tonight she was here to do a job. She swallowed against the tide of emotions and she and Jimmy slipped into the crowd surrounding the dance floor.

Jimmy told her he considered it a boon that, because of the Grand March, each and every one of his victims paraded by him. It presented a chance to pick and choose whose pockets and purses to pluck at throughout the evening.

Katrina took up a position behind a tall fern in case Mi’lord Curious from this morning happened by. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be amongst the revellers, but the fashionables had always considered being late
the thing
. Had she the means, she’d set her own invitation time two hours before her ball actually started. That would show them.

“Bloody rich throng, don’t you think?”

Pulled from her wandering reflections, Katrina turned towards Jimmy. “I beg your pardon?”

“The baubles and such—like taking sweets from a baby. No, it’s like taking sweets from a baby who’s offering me what’s in her hand.”

She jerked her chin in the opposite direction and hoped he didn’t take offence. Although it didn’t have to do with Jimmy personally, it did sicken her so to dwell upon the thievery part of the evening.

“I thought I might find you here near the refreshments.”

Max’s eyes burned from scanning the crowd. “Whatever do you mean, Lady Kendrick?”

“Hiding. Hiding from your future obligations. And don’t call me Lady Kendrick. It sounds as if you are speaking to my mother-in-law, for heaven’s sake.”

“All right,
Stinker
.”

“Ooooh, Maxwell, you are insufferable.”

“What are big brothers for?” Leading her further away from the subject at hand, he tuned to focus his attention on her. “And where is his lordship tonight?”

“Taking brandy in one of the parlours. He’s just about to make his intentions fully public.”

“Which intentions are those?”

“Why, his aspirations to elevate to judge. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said about it for the past fortnight?”

“I have. And I still think it odd that he decided to earn a living as a barrister instead of enjoying his fortune like his father.”

“My Charles is a modern sort of fellow with a brilliant mind. You should be thankful he wants more for me and our family than just his family’s scraps.”

Max grunted. He couldn’t argue with that. “But isn’t he a bit young for a judge?”

“That’s just the point, silly. He’ll be the youngest judge in history—
if
the Lord Chancellor finds him worthy, that is. And after he publishes his article for
The Morning Post
on the benefits of having opposing attorneys in the court room, he’s sure to get silk in no time. In fact, I have a rough draft of his article right here in my reticule.” She patted the velvet pouch that hung from the crook of her elbow by a delicate chain. “It’s quite brilliant, really, considering the justice system, up until recently, only had the prosecuting attorney in attendance.”

“And where do you fit in this scheme?”

“It’s not a
scheme
. Charles is having me keep it safe.”

“What will you do with your husband’s pages, stitch a bit of lace on each one?”

She stared at him with a straight face and a dull look in her eye. “You know, you are so clever, Maxwell. Your humour is simply awe-inspiring.” He was just about to ask if she’d seen the elusive, short-haired girl when she spoke again. “For your information, Charles trusts me above anyone of our acquaintance.”

Charles’ plan was solid, Max had to admit, but there were other matters occupying his mind tonight. “Well, all the best. Now I really need to get back to…”

Susanna tilted her head when he paused, likely expecting him to continue. Which he didn’t. “Get back to…?”

“Surveying…for pick-pockets…on behalf of Lady Frost. This being a public affair and all. She is concerned, you see.” He couldn’t stand fibbing to his sister, but more than a few precious moments—which could be better spent watching for his mouse in the crowd—were slipping through his fingers.

“So watching for thieves is how you will be spending your evening? I believe that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” She huffed out a breath. “At least try to dance, especially if your two list-toppers make an appearance tonight.”

If by list-toppers she meant the mouse, he’d gladly do so. “I promise.”

She eyed him up and down. “For some odd, niggling reason—perhaps it is because you so readily agreed—I don’t believe you.”

“Susanna—”

“I’ve a mind to tell Charles to go on home without me and have you escort me there later.”

“So that you can dance more freely with the gentlemen at this gala?” His intention of throwing her off the scent missed by at least a league.

“No, so that I can make sure
you
do your duty and dance with Miss Boonsbury and Miss Wilson.”

Max coughed out a harrumph.

“If Charles agrees, I shall return to motivate you. And you’d best not disappoint me, brother.”

“I need a reprieve. Come dance with me, Miss Katrina,” Jimmy murmured from behind her. Soft hairs that had fallen from her coiffeur onto her neck stirred at his breathed words and sent a wave of relaxation over her skin.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Indeed you should. It’s me, Jimmy, remember? And you must indulge your
cousin
at least once out of sheer politeness.”

Katrina hid her grin behind a sigh. She slipped her dance card from her wrist and handed it to him. He in turn released his to her.

“The last waltz in the set, I think.”

“You know how to waltz, Jimmy?”

“Me ma was a dancer—of sorts,” he said and scrawled his name across from the appropriate dance. “You’d be surprised at the things I know.”

She doubted she’d be shocked at his disclosure and it likely shone in her eyes.

“Come now. I haven’t been a pilfering scamp all my life.”

Katrina signed her first name upon the line and each returned their card to the other.

“Oh, and before I forget, I’ll need you to hold this for me.” He dug into his pocket, fished out a handful of something he kept concealed in his fist. “My trouser pockets are threadbare and I’m certain the weight of it will cause this evening’s take to escape through the fabric.”

Her hand received what he offered and she quickly tossed it down the front of her gown. It was indeed weighty, but she’d carry it for her friend.

“Mm. I’ll have to find more for you to cache for me.” He winked. “Come on then. Our dance is after this quadrille.”

Max successfully avoided Miss Boonsbury and Miss Wilson by stationing himself between the back wall and one of the many tall potted ferns in the room. The décor in the Greco-Roman style seemed a bit out-dated but well done nonetheless. The semi-sheer swag draperies hung in layers from the ceiling, disguising corners as if the space stretched unremittingly like a parlour on Mount Olympus. He made to observe the style of the flooring. However, there were so many dancers about, it wasn’t easy to discern the placement of the marble tiles.

A woman in a fashionable cream ball gown floated by, preoccupied with the waltz in which she was engaged. He absently admired the jewels in her dark hair and how they winked at him even in the modest candlelight.

At once a temporary shock wave shot through his body.

It was the mouse—and the young man with whom she danced was in danger of receiving a beating from Max, for he held her far too close.

Chapter Six

“I thank you, my lord.” Susanna dipped an elegant curtsey to her husband after he’d granted her the rest of the evening to spend with her brother. She left the parlour and squeezed through the crush on the way to the refreshment table where she’d last seen Maxwell.

“Hello, Lady Kendrick.”

“Why, Charity Wilson.” Susanna paused and smiled at the girl who topped her brother’s list of possible wives. “How are you this evening?”

“I’d be better if I could find your brother.”

“I’m on my way to meet him now. Would you care to join me?”

“Oh, no. It is my understanding that men like to make chase, not the opposite.”

“I see. Well, I’ll certainly put in a good word for you, dear. In fact, I’d be surprised if you weren’t engaged by season’s end. “

“That would be lovely of you. M’ma says I couldn’t do better than Maxwell Courtland financially.” Charity made an elegant curtsey and Susanna nodded back.

Upon her arrival at the refreshment table, Susanna noticed her brother’s absence immediately. “He’s done this on purpose. And it’s just like him to do so,” she murmured, feeling as if she were back in rompers again. Her brother had been a terrible tease, hiding her favourite dolls, fibbing about her parentage, telling her scary stories unitl she was unable to sleep—and that awful name he’d called her. Susanna nearly shuddered at the thought of him insisting his friends call her
Stinker
as well.

Shaking off the sour memories, she scanned the room for Maxwell and tapped her toes to the tune of the waltz, albeit impatiently. There was no one within shouting distance whom she had an acquaintance with—or with whom she’d like to spend some time chatting. She lifted her elbow and reached around for her bag. If she had a few moments before Maxwell emerged, she could pull out one of her—

Susanna’s breath filled her throat in a rush. Her reticule was gone.

Katrina would’ve been happy to confess to Jimmy the fact that he was indeed an exceptional dancer if it wouldn’t have put the idea into his head that a flirtation was acceptable between them. His lead was such that he practically steered her across the floor, never once running into the other couples who whirled around them at different speeds.

It had been so long since she had had any sort of vigorous exercise—notwithstanding the walking to and from the Den. Katrina acutely felt the heat of the room and its occupants as if they pressed at her from all sides. She lifted her chin to seek out a breath of fresh air when her gaze landed on a pair of startled green eyes.

“Bloody hell,” came her strangled expletive.

“What is it, love?” Jimmy asked as they whirled closer to the front of the ballroom.

“I—” She swallowed hard. “I think there is someone here who recognises me.”

“Bollocks. Let’s get you out o’ here.” As they hurried through the crush at the edge of the dance floor, Jimmy whispered, “Meet me five blocks east and five to the south. Don’t let anyone follow you.” Then he melted into the crowd.

Without thinking, Katrina turned and slammed into a young woman whose eyes shimmered with tears.

“Could you please help me?” She issued her plea directly to Katrina. “I think my reticule has been stolen.”

Damnation. Am I wearing a badge that signifies me as a bobby for bloody sakes?
“Miss, I cannot help you. I have troubles of my own.” She made to turn away when the girl took hold of her arm.

“But you
must
help me! I’ll be in the gravest of trouble if you don’t!”

If anyone knew what it was like to need assistance and a friendly face it was Katrina. Before another thought could blossom, she took hold of the girl’s hand and yanked her through the breezeway, zigzagging around formerly attired attendants and out of the front door.

Katrina pulled her along to weave in between and around people, carriages and horse leavings.

“Where are we going?” the girl stammered from behind her.

Retrieving an answer from who knew where, Katrina replied, “Somewhere we can talk in private.”

“But I last had my reticule at the Frosts’—”

Katrina ignored the girl’s plea and hastened her steps, dragging the chit behind her. It was the girl’s own fault. Had she not insisted that Katrina help her, she’d still be at the Frosts’ ball, annoying someone else.

Just before they made the first turn heading south, Katrina slowed to take a peek behind them. A tall, brooding man, the very same one who’d found her walking this morning, was at least a block away, bounding towards them at a smart pace.

“Shite,” Katrina cursed under her breath. She turned and sped up their pace.

“I—I beg your pardon?” her new partner squeaked.

“You’d better move those feet of yours if you want my help.”

It was quite apparent that the girl wanted Katrina’s aid, for she practically ran ahead of her.

A couple of houses before the corner where she was to meet Jimmy, she ducked into a small yard, searching for a place where she and her new hanger-on could hide. Thankfully, the residence and yard were substantial and the brick pathway continued alongside the house, deep into the shadows.

“This way.” She pulled the girl along the side yard, their soft ball slippers like whispering taps upon the bricks amidst the swishing of satin skirts. They hurried past a precious set of heavy wrought-iron table and chairs painted white, which practically glowed against the darkness. Oh, to have the luxury of the occasion for a garden tea back in her life, Katrina mused briefly. They continued along the hedgerow speckled with tiny light-coloured flowers and passed a fountain adorned with cherubs. After turning on the path that led behind the house she stopped, peeked around the corner whence they’d come and waited, both of them panting like a couple of racehorses.