Cat and Mouse (9 page)

Before Katrina could think of an excuse as to why she was more than capable of getting home by herself, she and Maxwell were outside Susanna’s town house and standing at the kerbside.

Maxwell’s shrill whistle caused Katrina to cover her ear with her free hand. “Was that entirely necessary?”

At that moment, a smart landau with two matching greys pulled up to the gate.

“As a matter of fact, it was,” he murmured and threw open the door for her. “Get in.”

Chapter Nine

Before a single muscle twitched in her legs, Katrina’s feet left the ground. “Hey! Why bother to instruct me when you’re already hoisting me into the cab?”

Maxwell was less than a step behind her when he pulled her down to the bench inside. “Now. Where to?”

She folded her arms across her chest in defiance and pressed her lips together.

“I’ve slept in this carriage before, so it makes no difference if you choose to stay the night here with me or not.”

Jerking her chin to the opposite window, she still refused to answer.
Who does he think he is, Prince Albert
?

“Although, it could get rather cold. We may have to share each other’s warmth.”

“Lovat Lane,” she snapped. The street was quite a-ways west of the Den, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Ah, yes. That’s right about where I lost you last time,” he said as if amused.

Katrina couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the sides of her mouth. So that’s why he hadn’t let loose of her—he was afraid she’d dodge him a second time.
Smart man
.

“But I promise you,
that
won’t happen again.” So much for his jovial tone. “To Lovat Lane near the warehouses, Martin,” he hollered to the driver and slammed the door shut.

Neither of them said a word until the carriage turned onto Lovat Lane. When the carriage came to a halt, Maxwell broke the silence. “You must allow that this particular location so near to the docks is rather an odd place for a young lady to live.”

“I shan’t allow it. Where I live is none of your business.”

“I’m afraid it
is
my business.”

“How so?”

“Once you claim an association with my sister, your entire being becomes of interest to me.”

His innuendo sent an invisible tremor down her back. Katrina took a steadying breath. “I would think Lady Kendrick’s associations would be her husband’s concern.”

“But he’s not here, is he?”

“Well, neither is she.”

A silence fell between them in the cab. Katrina almost smiled again. She had him this time.
Now to get through the carriage door without him following me
. “Our impasse only proves to me that my departure is upon us, so please move aside so I can go home.”

“I cannot, in good conscience, let you leave this cab in the dark of night on some obscure street in the midst of a rough neighbourhood.”

“Ha. I’ve seen worse neighbourhoods.”

“Have you? Where? When? Certainly not in Cricklewood.”

Katrina fisted her hands. Bantering with him wasn’t getting her any closer to the Den. “These points are moot. What matters is the here and now.” Looking out from the windows beyond the carriage, she scanned the area. “You see, there is no one about, so what lies beyond can hardly be considered rough. Then again, there’s always a chance that I might be accosted by a particularly hungry alley cat.” She moved towards the door when he blocked her with his body.

“Madam, have the men in your life been too feeble to stand up to you, to tell you right from wrong or point out when perhaps your very life might be in danger?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you implying, sir, that my male influences do not stand up to your masculine standards?”

“That is exactly my suggestion.”

A flash of Jimmy’s face rushed through her mind, striking a melancholy chord within her. At present, or at least up until this evening, Jimmy had been the only effectively positive male in her life. And she was sure no one on earth could have been more concerned for her safety and comfort. God knows her father never had the disposition to have a beneficial impact on her life. “Don’t you dare insult my friends. I’ll have you know I’ve circulated in society where every single man showed the utmost concern for my care,” she lied. “In fact, I don’t think you’d last a moment were they to examine your dubious intentions.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Laughing, she tossed her head in a devil-may-care way. “It matters not what label you apply to it, but I assure you, you would not prevail.”

With a flick of his wrist he opened the carriage door and she made to step out, but he stopped her once again. “I will wager that it won’t be long until you need a man, a
real
man to save you.”

“That’s where you are wrong. Not all damsels are in distress. Some of us can take care of ourselves.”

At least ten heartbeats pounded loudly past her ears before Maxwell allowed her to alight. Once free of the cab, she headed for the nearest alleyway. Katrina felt the urge to look back. Was he watching her? Was he following her? Did he care as much as he let on? If pressed she’d be obliged to admit how wonderful it might feel to have a man such as him be so concerned about her welfare. But the idea was impossible—and no good could come of wasting time dreaming about that remarkable and unlikely circumstance.

Katrina filled her lungs with damp night air and decided not to concern herself about whom Maxwell Courtland did or did not care for.

Once Katrina rounded the first corner, she hurried in the direction of the Den, yet unawares as to whether Maxwell had followed her or not. By the time the door shut behind her, she was convinced she’d made it all the way by herself.

The Den seemed alive with activity. Her fellow thieves slunk in and out of corridors, conversation and laughter seeped from every alcove—it was like a dimly lit society matron’s parlour instead of a secret hovel.

“Ah, Miss Katrina.” Mr Brenner sauntered over to her, having just peeled away from a group discussion about who knew what. “I’ve been anticipating your return.”

Her smile felt as forced as it probably looked. “Yes, well—”

Brenner took her by the arm and led her away from the others. “Let’s see your share of tonight’s take.” His gaze shifted to the right then to the left of her, then he grinned snake-like, as if he knew something secret about her that he was disinclined to reveal.

Relieved that he hadn’t asked her to share his bed again, Katrina reached into the top of her gown’s bodice and pulled from her stays the item dear Jimmy had given her to hold. She handed it to Mr. Brenner who held it up to the light of an oil lamp.

“About Mr Lock—” she began.

Staring at the piece, Mr Brenner brought her statement to a halt with a shooing wave of his hand. “This is a
very
good piece. And you need no longer be concerned with Mr Lock. He will not be returning to the Den.” He tucked the bauble into his pocket and focused his attention on Katrina. “He informed me just the other day that he would be leaving us.
Permanently
.”

“But—”

“The subject is closed. I would much rather discuss…” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped to her décolletage.

Warning bells went off in Katrina’s head as Brenner slithered his hand around her lower back.

“Pardon me, sir. I’m looking for the man in charge.”

Katrina whipped around to find Maxwell glaring at her and Brenner.
Oh God. Brenner is going to murder me.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” Brenner barked and pulled away from Katrina. He made to reach into his coat where he kept his bludgeon when Maxwell stopped him with his words.

“My name is…” he paused but only for a moment. “Court. I’m looking for a job. I followed one of the boys in here, hoping to find work.”

Katrina could have choked.
Doesn’t Maxwell know thieves are a dangerous lot
?

“This isn’t a workhouse, old cocker. Which boy did you follow in? Point him out to me.”

Maxwell glanced around. “I don’t see him now. Please, sir. I’ll do any sort of work, learn any trade.”

Katrina opened her mouth to let lose a scalding tirade but shut it just as quickly.
What the hell is Maxwell thinking asking Brenner for work
?

“We don’t exactly earn a livelihood here. We take our income from others who can afford to share.” Brenner looked him up and down. “You don’t seem at all as if you are suffering the ill effects of the streets.”

“Well, it’s all rather new. You see, I’ve just divided and sold the last of my property. Everything is gone, including my funds…and my relatives have disowned me. I—I used to gamble, you see.”

“Fallen on ‘ard times, eh?”

Brenner’s smug bravado astounded Katrina as did the fact that he believed Maxwell’s bold-faced lies.

“Why should I allow you to stay? What could you possibly have to offer? I should have you killed because you are privy to the whereabouts of my little empire.”

“I—I still have my connections at White’s—I could get you in.”

Katrina watched Brenner’s eyes glaze over. “White’s,” he murmured. “Now
that
‘as possibilities.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I’ve only dreamed of obtaining entrance to such places. Why, one night at White’s could be worth at least two weeks’ pilfering.”

Katrina squeezed her eyes closed for a moment in effort to block out Brenner’s dramatics.

“Tomorrow night is the busiest night of the week at White’s,” Maxwell added to sweeten the deal.

Brenner snapped out of his musings then he slapped a hand onto Maxwell’s shoulder. “You may call me Mr Brenner. And provided you are able to deliver what you’ve promised me, we will come into some sort of an arrangement. But in the meantime, consider this your home… At least until you escort me into White’s tomorrow night. And don’t even consider reneging. I’ll be sure to have my boys alerted to your brief
holiday
here with us.”

Maxwell merely nodded and Brenner grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Excellent.” Brenner turned to go but paused at Maxwell’s next words.

“Where shall I sleep?”

A mere second passed before he answered. “Miss Katrina, show Court to Mr Lock’s old room.”

Katrina’s lungs emptied of air when Brenner offered Maxwell her friend’s room. He walked past Maxwell and murmured something she didn’t quite hear.

Maxwell turned to Katrina. “I’ll just have Miss Katrina here keep me company.”

Katrina felt her eyes widen at Maxwell’s audacity.
Unbelievable
.

Brenner laughed then, the echo reverberating to the rafters. “I don’t run a brothel here, Court. However, I am, on occasion, a sporting sort of fellow myself.” He looked Maxwell up and down with a silly grin on his face. “Just so you know, that egg’s a hard one to crack,” he said tilting his head towards Katrina. “If you can get her to spread her thighs for you, then she’s yours. For tonight.” He turned and disappeared down a darkened hallway still tittering.

In one instant, Katrina’s choices went from a small number to even fewer. Her stomach felt as if someone had punched her and she pitched forward.

Chapter Ten

Max shot his hand out and caught the mouse before she toppled over.

The second her wherewithal returned, she gripped his arm hard and began babbling. “Why did you—? When—? How dare—”

“Perhaps, Miss Katrina, we should have this conversation in the privacy of that room Mr Brenner spoke of.”

“But—but you can’t just—”

“I’m afraid I did. Now, where is this room?”

Seeming to gather her wits, Katrina glanced around. At once she released him, pivoted on her heel, stormed down a corridor and up a flight of stairs. Max followed her across a catwalk and through a dark doorway. She promptly stripped off her gloves, tossed them onto a small table, lit a lamp, turned the wick up and crossed the moderately clean room to slam the door shut.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she finally said.

“Neither should you.”

“
I
happen to live here.”

Max closed the distance between them. “I am well aware, but I want details.”

“Details?”

“As in
why
you are here.”

Katrina retreated a step. “That is none of your affair.”

“Regardless, I intend to find out.”

She wagged a finger in his face. “Ever since I met you, I knew you were the busiest body I’d ever come across.” Then she lowered her arm as if she were finished with her reprimand. Sadly, this wasn’t the case. “Now you’ve really gone too bloody far. Curiosity is said to have been the demise of certain nosey felines. Just who do you think you are?”

She glared at him, likely expecting an answer to her grating query, but what made his heart sink into his gut was how damned adorable she was. It took almost all of his willpower for him not to smile. “The fact of the matter is that you don’t fit in here.”

“What Goddamned bloody business is that of yours?”

Hm. Perhaps she needs another swat or two on that sweet bottom of hers
. “Aside from your rough language—” Her gaze raked the ceiling, accompanied by an irritated puff of air, but he continued. “Your refined manners for one thing. Your fair skin, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you carry yourself—none of these things say to me, ‘street urchin’. And that, Miss Katrina, is only the beginning of my argument as to why you don’t belong here.”

Katrina turned away and stomped to the other side of the room. She placed her hands on her hips and spun back towards him. “And just where do you think I belong?”

Max’s shoulders relaxed. Her reaction proved he’d been right on at least one account. “In a feminine parlour having tea.” He took a step towards her. “Playing cards with your friends to while away the afternoon.” He inched forward. “At a ball of your very own.” Two more steps and she would be in embracing range. “Making appointments with a dressmaker, purchasing fine fabrics and lace with which to adorn yourself.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. He could’ve sworn he saw her chin tremble just before she raised it in defiance. Her voice was soft when she finally replied. “I—I no longer require any of those things.”