Wanting to share her pleasure, she glanced around for the man called Alasdair.
She didn’t see him. She turned completely around, staring at the crowd. No tall, dark, scandalous stranger. No wicked grin or suggestive twinkle in Trouble’s eyes. He wasn’t there.
Bet he’s in the ice cream shop.
Anticipation thrummed inside her, and it had little to do with strawberry ice cream. She fixed her gaze upon the shop’s doorway and waited for him to appear.
And waited.
And waited.
Until the bubble of excitement inside her finally popped.
A welcher, Emma thought as her joy evaporated. She’d made a bet with a welcher. “Why that sorry, no-good—”
“Miss Emma?”
She turned to see a sandy-haired young man wearing a smeared white apron holding an ice cream cone. A strawberry cone. “Yes?”
“Gentleman asked me to give this to you.” He handed over the cone. “Said to offer his apologies, that important business called him away. It’s strawberry ice cream with pecan sprinkles. Fellow said to tell you he thought you’d enjoy nutty things.”
Emma folded her arms. Her foot took to tapping.
Humph.
Business. She doubted it. More likely he’d been waiting on his wife or girlfriend…or, recalling the perfume on the scarf, his mistress…and he didn’t want to be caught flirting with another woman. The cad.
Grumpily, she accepted the cone and indulged in bad manners by taking a taste right where she stood. The ice cream was rich and sinfully delicious, and he’d been right about the pecans. They were an appropriate way to top off a nutty adventure.
A bark of laughter and some feminine giggling brought her attention back to Blankenship’s display window, and witnessing the results of her prank banished the last of her pique.
It
was
funny. It had been fun. Funny and silly and a right fine dare.
Emma smiled and savored another taste of strawberry ice cream. She would enjoy relating this story to her grandmother and sister. She’d enjoy remembering the look in that handsome man’s eyes as he licked his ice cream cone and watched her. As an adventure, this had been an acceptable start.
Emma turned back toward the Savoy, her steps light, a smile lingering on her lips as she enjoyed her prize while she strolled. She couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.
S
EATED AT A TABLE INSIDE
the tea shop across the street from Blankenship and Barrows, Dair MacRae winced with regret as he watched the beauty take a bite from her ice cream cone and sashay away. She’d had an air about her that appealed to him. She’d seemed so…alive.
He hadn’t mistaken the interest in her eyes, the encouragement in her smile. He’d have liked to have seen the game to its end, but the woman he’d come to meet had arrived a few minutes early and duty had called. She wouldn’t have approved of his actions, and at this point, he couldn’t afford to offend her.
A waitress served the pie and tea he’d ordered, then asked if they needed anything more. “Sister Mary Margaret?” he asked.
“I’m fine, thank you, Alasdair,” the middle-aged nun responded. “The lemon pie here is such a treat. Are you certain you don’t want a piece?”
“I’m certain. I’ve already indulged my sweet tooth today.” He dismissed the waitress with a nod, then got down to business. The hesitation he’d noted in her eyes was giving him a bad feeling. “Your note said you have news for me, Sister?”
“Yes.” Her bow-shaped lips dipped into a frown. “Yes, I do, and I fear it’s news you’d rather not hear. Alasdair, it tears at my heart to say this, but I’ll not be able to fulfill my end of our agreement. I cannot move to Texas and become the new director of the Piney Woods Children’s Home.”
Dair stiffened. “What?”
“I cannot accept the position.”
“But you’ve already agreed to take it.” She’d agreed to his proposition two weeks ago. She’d been excited about the move. “What happened? If it’s the money, I’ll—”
“It’s not the money. You’ve been very generous and Mother Superior was grateful for the donation.” The nun reached across the table and touched his arm. “Alasdair, I’ve been asked to oversee St. Stephen’s Orphanage in Derby. It’s where I grew up. I could not say no.”
“Sure you can,” Dair said, his voice tight. “You can’t back out on me, Sister. We have an agreement. I’m counting on you. The children are counting on you.”
“I know, and I am sorry to disappoint you.” Her light blue eyes gleamed with sincerity. “If it were any other position, I could refuse, but St. Stephen’s is my heart. You understand that, I’m sure.”
It was a low blow. He did understand, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. The good-hearted nun had just put him in a hell of a bind.
Dair drummed his fingers on the table. “Tell me you’ve found a replacement willing to go in your place. Tell me she’ll be joining us in a few moments so that I can conduct an interview.”
Sister Mary Margaret attempted a smile, but didn’t quite pull it off. “I’m afraid that’s not the case. It’s not easy to find a trustworthy person willing to uproot herself and move to another country to accept a job of such great responsibility. I’ve been unable to find a replacement to recommend.”
“There must be someone, Sister.”
“You should try an agency, Dair.”
“No. They don’t do a thorough enough investigation into their employees’ backgrounds. Besides, I need a personal referral from someone I trust implicitly.”
“Alasdair, I know it’s important to you to personally choose the right person for this job. I discovered early on in our acquaintance that you have a deep-seated need to control events. But wouldn’t it be easier to find the perfect employee in Texas?”
“I’d have to
be
in Texas for that, and making the trip at this juncture simply isn’t feasible.”
“If this is so important to you, why not?”
“It’s complicated, Sister. Just know that I would go if it were possible.” The problem needed to be solved from here.
Dair’s mind raced. What could he do to change her mind? “I’ll double the salary. You could send the extra back to St. Stephen’s. You’d be helping both causes.”
Her fork slipped from her fingers and clattered to her plate. “But you’ve already offered a salary far beyond fair.”
“It’s obviously not enough if you’re willing to turn down the position.” He’d just have to work a little harder, a little longer, to obtain the extra funds. “Plus, I’ll increase the endowment by twenty percent.”
That was a lie, of course—he didn’t have the funds for that unless he swallowed his pride and asked his friend, Jake Kimball, for help—but she wouldn’t know it until it was too late. If he got her to Piney Woods, she’d stay. “I need you, Sister. Please reconsider.”
She listened, but another half hour of his most persuasive arguments netted him nothing more than a vow to keep looking for a replacement, and the promise that she’d pray for him. He didn’t figure either one would do him much good.
Frustration rode his shoulders, and an all too familiar headache nudged at his brain as he exited the bakery and joined the crowd of shoppers strolling along the sidewalks. Worry had him feeling mean and malicious, so he indulged himself by calling on old talents to pick a few wealthy men’s pockets. He managed surprisingly good results. Gentlemen carried more in their pockets these days than they had when he supported himself with the practice.
He worked the streets and fought off the headache until a tingle at the back of his neck warned him that he’d caught somebody’s notice. Casually glancing around, he attempted to identify the spy.
There. A ragamuffin boy of about ten. One of London’s legion of homeless children, no doubt. Carefully, Dair set his trap.
He led the boy into an alley, then hid behind a wooden crate. When the boy walked by, he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. The kid squealed as Dair pushed his back against the wall, his feet dangling a foot off the ground. “Hello, boyo. I think it is time you and I had a bit of a chat, don’t you?”
“Let me go, mister. I didn’t do nothin’.”
“I beg to differ. You’ve been watching me. Why?”
Bravado rang in the boy’s tone. “Maybe I’m thinking to hook what you’ve been busy snitchin’.”
“If you have the hands to take it from me, little one, it’s yours. First, though, I’ll have an answer to my question.” He tightened his grip on the boy slightly and smiled a threat. “Why are you dogging my heels?”
The boy’s eyes rounded. He’d understood Dair’s warning. “It’s a job. He’s paying me.”
“Who is paying you? To do what?”
“Watch. That’s all. I’m to watch what you do and report. But don’t worry, mister. I won’t tell about the dippin’ you’ve been doin’, I swear.”
Dair gave him a little shake. “How long? How long have you been watching me?”
“Today’s me first day. I promise. The regular fella couldn’t work today, so I’m filling in. Me mom is sick and she cain’t work and we need the money for the little ones.”
The regular fellow? Damnation. “Who hired you?”
“I don’t know his name!” The boy rattled off a lengthy explanation that netted Dair little useful information beyond the fact that someone was going to some effort to track his movements. Why?
The most obvious, and disturbing, reason was that someone might have made the connection between Alasdair MacRae and the Highland Riever. But if that were the case, why was he still walking freely around London?
How had he missed being under surveillance?
It couldn’t be the police following him. He wouldn’t have missed them. So, who was it? What had the watchers witnessed? The Riever at work? Or even worse, Dair’s…incidents? For just a moment, he closed his eyes.
Then the boy squirmed and tried to escape. Dair tightened his hold. “Listen up. I’ve a message to pass along to your employer. I request a face-to-face meeting. Tell him to name a time and place and deliver it to my current residence. I trust he already has that information.”
“Yessir. I’ll pass it along, sir. I certainly will.”
Dair grabbed the day’s ill-gotten gains from his pocket and tucked the cash into the boy’s shirt pocket. “After that, I suggest you find a different line of work. If I catch you within eyeshot again, you’ll not get off so easy.”
“Yessir. Thank you, sir. You’ll never see me again, sir.”
The boy’s face was alight with gratitude at the windfall. Nevertheless, the moment his feet touched the ground, he scampered off.
Dair left the alley brooding, the headache continuing its persistent, though thankfully slight, throb. Hadn’t this day gone from heaven and the delightful Miss Emma straight to quitting-nun and spying-urchin hell?
He needed to take this one problem at a time. First, the Piney Woods Children’s Home. He need not panic. Just because Sister Mary Margaret refused him didn’t mean his plans were for naught. He still had time to find the perfect person for the job. After all, Sister Mary Margaret surely wasn’t the only woman in the world looking to do good works. Dair simply didn’t meet too many of them.
He ordinarily concentrated his attention on women who liked to be bad. Women like the darling, daring, delectable Emma Tate.
Regarding the other problem, perhaps the boy’s employer would contact him. If not, Dair would put his own people to work. Angus Fraser had his finger on the pulse of London. If anyone could find out who was watching Dair and why, Angus could.
Hearing someone shout his name, he looked up. Jake Kimball waved him over to a cab. “I’ve escaped the mayhem at Bankston House and I’m headed to Gaylords for a nice, quiet meal. Care to join me?”
Dair didn’t hesitate. He climbed into the cab and settled back against the soft leather seat with a sigh.
Kimball’s brow arched. “So what has you looking like a boy who’s lost his favorite slingshot?”
Dair was willing to share only one of his immediate problems with his friend. “I need a woman.”
“Can it wait until after supper, or I shall I drop you off at Fanny’s along the way?”
One corner of Dair’s mouth lifted in a rueful grin. “I lost my nun, Jake.”
Kimball frowned and pursed his lips. “Hmm. I didn’t figure you for a man who entertained those sorts of fantasies. Did she have one of those wooden rulers?”
This time Dair chuckled out loud. “I’ve a project in the works that requires the services of a trustworthy woman of good character, superior morals and keen intelligence. Do you have any idea where I can find such a paragon?”
“Actually, I might.” Jake waved and winked at a pretty woman strolling along the sidewalk. “You could follow my lead and do what I’ve decided to do.”
Dair knew that Jake had a project of his own that required a woman’s touch. He’d recently assumed guardianship of his own set of orphans—his late sister’s children. “You found a governess?”
“No. I’ve realized that the children don’t need a governess. They need permanence. They need love. What the children need is a mother.”
Surprised, Dair gave his friend a long look. Though they’d known each other for years and considered one another a good friend, both Dair and Jake kept parts of their lives private. Still, Dair knew Jake Kimball well enough to assume that he had something…different…in mind when it came to providing said mother. “And where do you propose to find one of those?”
Jake Kimball flashed his pirate’s grin. “I intend to advertise for one.”
Oh, those poor children.
“All right, Kimball,” Dair said with a sigh. “What crazy scheme have you cooked up this time?”
CHAPTER TWO
“C
OME WITH ME
, E
MMA
,” a man’s voice whispered in her ear. His lips nuzzled the sensitive skin of her neck. His large hand cupped the fullness of her breast, his thumb dragging with exquisite slowness across her nipple. “Come with me.”
A hand shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Emma!”
Emma clung to sleep, clung to her dream. She didn’t want to awaken.
Come with me.
Sharp fingernails sank into her skin, shook her again. “Emma! It’s time to get dressed. We don’t want to be late.”