Cat and Mouse (8 page)

“I can’t have you working for anyone else, you see, so myself and everyone else will just have to accept your death as a necessity.”

Brenner drew back his arm. Just before Jimmy blacked out, he saw something sharp flash in Brenner’s hand.

Proud of herself for finding the Den via an improvised new route, Katrina made sure that no one witnessed her as she made her way up to Mr Brenner’s room. His door remained wide open and a single lamp wick glowed low as if it hadn’t been doused properly. She raised her fist to knock upon the portal frame when she noticed the room was unoccupied. With one more glance down the corridor, she stepped inside and turned up the wick. The illumination allowed her to see clearly the few items upon his bed—she was sure they’d come from the Frosts’ ball. A single reticule sat in the centre of pile of trinkets.

Peeking inside, she espied a stack of papers. “Thank God,” she murmured and shoved the bag under her neckline, down into the fabric of her left sleeve. She shook her arm until the bundle fell comfortably to the back. After a quick inspection of each puff that encircled both upper arms, there seemed to be no visual difference between the right and the left. A creaking board sounded from the hall. Her blood froze in her veins. But after a few moments, when no other sounds permeated the silence, she expelled her breath, reached over and turned down the lamp. “Must have been the rafters settling.” Relieved, she deftly stepped towards the door, anxious to make her exit undetected.

No one lurked in the corridor—and for that she was grateful. The less trouble she got into from the hierarchy, the better for her health. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone caught her appropriating spoils she wasn’t entitled to.

Not two steps down the corridor, she heard hushed voices. Fear crippled her lungs once again. Slowly she backed away from the noise and headed for the back stairs.

Katrina sighed in relief. In just moments she’d made it back down to the streets and alleyways of London. Not long after, the corner on which Jimmy was supposed to be waiting came into view. But Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Eight

Katrina could have throttled Jimmy.
Where in hell is he
? She stormed across the street and towards the house behind which she’d told Susanna to wait. She whipped around the corner and slammed directly into Susanna.

She reached out to steady the girl. “Good heavens, Lady Ken—” Katrina’s tirade came to a skidding halt. Susanna was trembling. “What happened?” Katrina held tight to her shoulders and, regardless of the darkness, tried to look her new friend directly in the eyes to determine just what was going on. “What’s wrong?”

Susanna’s lips quivered open, then shut before any words passed between them.

“Lady Kendrick… Susanna? What is it?” Katrina gave her a shake.

At once, Susanna collapsed into her arms, gasping. “Oh, you poor dear. You poor, poor dear,” Susanna murmured in between sobs.

Given a million years, Katrina still wouldn’t have been able to guess what on earth Susanna was going on about.

Katrina drew in a breath to enquire when Lady Kendrick raised her gaze to Katrina’s. “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but your friend…”

“Yes?”

“Mr Lock…”

“Yes, go on.”

“Has been…” Susanna heaved in a ragged lungful of air. “Has been murdered.”

“Murdered?”

Susanna’s head bobbed up and down at a frantic pace. “Yes.”

“What do you mean
murdered
?”

“Murdered. Killed. Good heavens, there is only one perfectly clear definition of the word.”

“Yes, of course—but… But
how
?”

“Three men. Two of them beat him and the last one stabbed him. Then they dragged his body off in that direction.” She pointed towards the street where not far beyond lay the Thames.

Katrina’s world tilted. Susanna thrust out her arm and caught her just before she toppled over. Katrina accepted Susanna’s comforting embrace as her thoughts wandered to Jimmy. Tears filled her eyes and her heart ached as if a hole had been carved in her soul. Never once had she fancied herself in love with him, but the twinge of guilt she felt for not reciprocating his feelings nagged at her. He was a dear boy who didn’t deserve such an end no matter his circumstances.

“Poor Miss Katrina,” Susanna cooed and patted her back. She pulled away to look into Katrina’s eyes. “Now, in my estimation, it isn’t wise to tarry here any longer… Who knows if those brutes will be back?”

“Did they see you?”

“No, but we really should depart as criminals often return to the scene of a crime.”

Katrina managed a nod and not moments later, allowed Susanna to lead her in the opposite direction of the Thames.

The reality of Jimmy’s death refused to take root in Katrina’s mind. She remembered snippets of conversation and all the stolen moments she and Jimmy had spent together, aside from when she had learned to steal of course, pondering, philosophising… He had often made her laugh at a time that should have been the most painful of her life. He’d comforted her and soothed her—she considered him her best friend, regardless of his flirting.

And now he was gone. The only reliable man she’d known in her life. It just wasn’t fair.

The night air had turned cold, damper than usual at this time of year, which intensified the chill on her cheeks owing to the trail of tears from her grief. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands and found that she and Susanna had arrived at the portico of a town house. She’d cried the entire way there, and hadn’t realised it. Mourning had a way of blurring the passage of time unlike anything else. The amber-coloured glass shade mellowed the otherwise glaring gas flame that hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow about the porch.

Lady Kendrick turned to her. “Again, I’m terribly sorry about your friend. Why, tonight’s horrible episode didn’t even result in finding my reticule.” Katrina detected in her voice a mix of disappointment and sorrow.

“Oh, yes. Forgive me.” Katrina sniffed. “I found it. I just didn’t have the opportunity to present it.” She shoved her hand inside her neckline and from inside her sleeve she pulled out Susanna’s reticule.

First Susanna clutched the bag to her chest, then felt for the contents. “I could hardly believe when it first disappeared. Now I can hardly believe it’s back!” She opened the drawstrings and peeked inside. “It’s there. It’s all there.” She sighed. “Thank you.”

Katrina could tell the young girl reined in her joy for the sake of Katrina’s unhappiness. It was very refined of her to do so. She took a step towards Susanna to voice her appreciation when the words seized in her throat.

“What the hell is going on here?” a man growled and stepped from the shadows.

Even without a visual, Katrina knew exactly who it was.
Shite. The nosey bloke must have been following us!
He either didn’t have a life of his own—which she found near impossible to believe owing to his masculine, handsome features—or he was the busiest body in all of London.

“Good heavens, Maxwell, you scared the breath out of me—and I’ve had quite enough of that tonight, thank you very much.”

Katrina flinched.
This man is Susanna’s brother
?
Oh, God
.

“You have a damn fine lot of explaining to do, young lady.” He took Susanna by the arm.

Before Katrina could consider bolting, her upper arm was seized as well. “Miss Katrina.” Maxwell looked her up and down, likely accessing if she held the wherewithal to escape.

Bollocks, he knows my name.

“And yes, I know your name.”

“But how—?” The mindless query slipped unheeded from between her lips.

“Oh, no. Not until I get the story—the
true
story of why you two have been traipsing around London all night long.”

Susanna huffed out an irritated sigh. “I must protest, Maxwell. Ladies, myself included, do not traipse.”

“The hell you don’t.”

“Your foul language isn’t helping matters, either. I’ve never been able to stomach your bursts of temper.”

“Don’t even try to change the subject,
Stinker
. Now out with it.”

Stinker? Ah, yes. The overbearing, older brother.
Katrina had heard of such, and this man’s portrait could have resided in every shop window in London accompanied by the title.

“Unhand me first. Your violent reaction isn’t seemly for a gentleman.”

He released Susanna, but not Katrina, then led them both through the front door and through the first portal they came to. The room was dark, save for the blade of light coming through the curtains across the expansive floor. It smelt faintly of pipe tobacco, leather furniture and old books. His hand was like an iron band about her arm, but it was the heat radiating from his body that drove her to distraction.

“Light a lamp,” he ordered his sister.

Moments later, Susanna struck a match. “I think the wick needs to be changed, it’s nearly done for.”

“No time, just use what’s left.”

“Very well, and stop barking at me like a wolfhound.”

Katrina ignored their sibling banter.
My word but he smells nice.
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth to nibble upon it…and to have an excuse to breathe through her nose. His light, spicy cologne reminded her of something—something dangerous, but she couldn’t place the incident in her mind.

Once the wick fibres were lit, he demanded of Susanna, “Now. Tell.”

“Well, it all started last week—”

“The abridged version, if you please. Start with tonight right after you left to speak with your husband about staying behind at the Frosts’ ball.”

“Oh. Well, Charles gave me his permission and when I went to find you, you were absent. Where had you gone, Maxwell? I should be good and angry at you for—”

“Stick to the subject at hand, Susanna,” he said in a bored voice.

Regardless of their ongoing repartee, not once did Maxwell’s grip loosen around Katrina’s arm. He was apparently a man who liked being in control. She barely quashed the wayward visual that floated through her mind of other ways he enjoyed his control, but not before it threatened to topple her. Katrina turned her focus on Susanna and realised it would take a lot more than a change of subject to ignore Maxwell.

The lamp sputtered and the flame burnt dangerously low—dangerous because she didn’t think she would survive standing so near this gorgeous man surrounded by the intimate cover of darkness. As it was she could sense the pulse beneath his skin, hear every breath he drew. She needed to mask her feelings if she was going to live through this ordeal.

Susanna huffed, pulling Katrina from her thoughts. “It wasn’t two seconds after that I realised my reticule had gone missing as well. Miss Katrina was kind enough to assist me in reclaiming it.”

“Is that when you two went tearing through the streets of London?”

Katrina started when he turned her slightly so that she faced him—her eyes had adjusted to the dimness and his handsome features could be seen clearly, just like the day she’d left him calling after her on Lovat Lane.
A fist full of pound notes says he didn’t like that one bit
, she smirked to herself. She lifted her chin in defiance. She’d be damned if she would give him the satisfaction of her side of the story, even if he was gently kneading the flesh of her arm. Pity the action enhanced her awareness of him by tenfold instead of causing her to want to recoil.

“While Miss Katrina went to retrieve my belongings, I waited for her. In the interim, I witnessed someone—” she paused just quick enough that Katrina understood Susanna’s desire not to divulge what wasn’t necessary, “receive a beating. The thugs hauled the body away and I haven’t seen any of them since.”

Katrina shut her eyes as a wave of sorrow washed over her.

Maxwell scoffed. “You sound like one of your Marvels.”

Susanna inhaled audibly. “Don’t you make fun of my Marvels, Maxwell Courtland! Marvels are intelligent reading, I’ll have you know.”

“Yes, well, thanks to them, it seems your intellect has acquired the disposition to run wild.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Susanna’s voice rang incredulous.

“Let’s just say there are a few gaping holes in your version of what happened after you left the Frosts’ ball tonight, not to mention the
reason
for your departure—and in an opposite direction to your own home.” He then spoke to Katrina. “Do you wish to add anything to this tale, mouse?”

Katrina’s gaze shot to his.
Mouse
?
Was that some sort of
slight
? She considered her options carefully before she spoke. She refused to crumble under his scrutiny—why, he’d know in a second how his magnetism affected her.
And how odd to be attracted to such an imperious, ogre-ish male
. It wasn’t like her at all. “I wouldn’t string ten words together to accommodate your insulting demands.”

The ends of Maxwell’s lips curled up to display a sinister grin that made the hairs on Katrina’s neck stand on end.

“We’ll see about that.”

“I don’t have time for games, Maxwell, and neither does Miss Katrina. I’m sure she needs to get home sometime before the sun rises.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

Utterly flabbergasted, Katrina tensed. “How dare—”

“
I
will escort Miss Katrina home,” Maxwell said with finality.

“The hell you will…”

Susanna cleared her throat. “Now, Miss Katrina. As Maxwell’s sister, I can vouch for him that he’ll assure you safe passage to your destination. Even though those thugs are long gone, it’s still a good idea for him to act as your escort.”

Katrina glared at Maxwell. “I can get along just fine without your
brotherly
attentions, thank you very much.”

There was that damned grin again. It had appeared just before the lamp wick snuffed out completely. Katrina feebly tried to escape by bending at the elbow, but was thwarted by his unrelenting grip.

“Inasmuch as I’m sure you can, I’m not going to risk it. I’m going to take you home whether you like it or no.” Without looking at Susanna, he spoke as he ushered Katrina towards the door by her arm. “Lord Kendrick arrived just before I did. I would imagine he’s upstairs awaiting his wife at this very moment. Goodnight, Susanna.”