India Black and the Gentleman Thief (11 page)

“Do have a seat,” I told him. “Mrs. Drinkwater, please bring more coffee for my guest and fetch my dressing gown and slippers for me. And, Mrs. Drinkwater? See that we’re not disturbed.” I gave her a meaningful look and she shot me one of dismay, and possibly terror, at the prospect of restraining the marchioness from barging into the room to meet my gentleman caller.

I gave Philip a radiant smile. “You’re looking well. The Continent must agree with you.” I’d caught just the merest glimpse of him at the tavern when he’d met Captain Tate. Today was my first chance to really observe my former lover. He did look a peach. His golden hair was bright from long months in the sun and his face was smooth and tan. The hazel eyes were still full of mirth, and his shoulders bulked large under the elegantly tailored jacket he wore. A thick gold chain dangled from his watch pocket and his boots were shined to a gloss. He looked very prosperous and I told him so.

“I’ve a few things going,” he said, with more than a hint of pride. Ah, pride. Every man’s downfall. I’d soften him up and then find out what sort of projects he had working. By the time I’d flattered and flirted, he’d be dying to tell me just what a success he’d become. But first things first; we had a bit of history between us and it’s best to either clear the air or obfuscate matters completely so as to move on to the present.

He was staring at me with some concern. “I say, India. What’s happened to your face? It almost looks as if someone has struck you.”

“It’s my own fault. I took a tumble on the stairs the day before yesterday.” I needed to distract him, so I allowed my gaze to wander admiringly over him. “It’s been a long time,” I said. “I’ve missed you.”

He smiled roguishly. “You must have. You’ve been looking for me. How did you know I was back in London?”

It wouldn’t do to confess the truth, so I lied without the slightest hesitation. “One of my customers must have mentioned that you were here. You know how it is; if you want to find out the latest gossip, visit the nearest brothel.”

“Ah, yes. Which customer was that?”

I wagged a finger at him playfully. “I never kiss and tell. But he did me a service. I was distraught when you had to leave England.”

“Not as distraught as I was.” He laughed, but gently, as though the memory of fleeing to the Continent after his failed attempt to steal the Rajah’s Ruby had been an adventure rather than a disaster.

“I had hoped you’d come back sooner,” I said, which was patently untrue but I said it with conviction and I do believe the chap bought it.

“I would have done so, but that damned Harold White proved to be a confounded nuisance. He bore an almighty grudge against me, even if I didn’t steal that gem of his. I tried to slip into England several times, but he had a man in every port. I made it to Portsmouth once and had to turn right around and catch the next ship back to France to avoid being arrested.”

“But White has given up the pursuit?”

“He has. I’ve heard from one of my contacts that he finally returned to America.”

“So you’re a free man?”

“For the moment.” He smiled at me and my stomach fluttered. Damn, but the fellow was attractive.

He gazed around the small room. “These are humble surroundings for the madam of the house.”

His eyes caught mine, and I could see a challenge there. I had known from the moment that I’d begun to search for Philip that he would learn that I was no longer a mere tart. Some helpful fellow would have told him that India Black was looking for him and Philip could find her any day of the week at Lotus House, for she was the madam of that august institution. Well, the helpful fellow probably wouldn’t have phrased it that way, but you get my drift. Philip would set to contemplating how a beautiful (albeit clever and ambitious) whore had found the dosh to open such a fine establishment. He’d remember that the last time he’d seen the Rajah’s Ruby it had resided in his case, which was separated from my room by an unlocked door. And he’d certainly recall that I’d been struck suddenly with a horrible illness and demanded that he go in search of a maid to assist me, thereby leaving me alone for several minutes with Harold White’s jewel just a few feet from my sickbed. In Philip’s place, I’d have been, shall we say, skeptical. Allaying Philip’s suspicions would take a bit of finesse, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

“Indeed, they are. But this is not my room.” Mrs. Drinkwater returned with my robe and slippers and I donned them, not at all abashed that I’d been sitting around in my nightgown blathering with Philip. He’d seen the goods before, and on more than one occasion. “I’ve taken in an old abbess who is down on her luck. She’s staying in my room for a few days.” Mrs. Drinkwater snorted. I skewered her with a look that sent her scurrying out of the room.

“That ancient mother downstairs who’s ordering the girls around?”

His words struck a chill in my heart. I was going to have to do something about the marchioness and soon. At the moment, however, downstairs and out of my hair was the safest place for her.

I summoned a weak grin. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she?”

“A bloody cannon, more like. If you’re not careful, she’ll be running the place soon and put you back to work.” He crossed one elegantly trousered leg over the other and looked at me appraisingly. “You’ve done well for yourself, India. I knew you were a goer, but I never thought you’d pull together the ready to buy a place like this.”

I prefer these direct attacks. No need to waste time on feinting and darting hither and yon; just open up with the artillery and charge. Easy to repel, though, if you know what you’re doing.

“I had a patron,” I said. “Harold White.”

Philip’s face lost some of its smooth composure. He blinked. “White?”

I thought that would throw him. I pressed the attack by shrugging apologetically. “He took a shine to me, after that visit to his house. He used to come up to see me in London. When he told me he was going back to St. Louis, he offered to set me up here.”

“White paid for this house?” Philip asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” I said. Well, it wasn’t quite a lie as the American millionaire
had
paid for my brothel, though he hadn’t known it. I’d used the proceeds from the sale of his precious ruby to fund the purchase of the building and the contents and to set up business.

I stood up and walked over to Philip, whose mouth still hung agape. I plopped down in his lap and ran a hand through his hair. He responded automatically by putting his arm around me but I could see his heart wasn’t in it. Yet.

“I am sorry, Philip. I knew White was hunting you, but I was sure he wouldn’t catch you. You’re far too intelligent to be caught by the likes of him. And I did my best to point him in the direction of that Ashton fellow.”

As expected, this news cheered Philip immensely, as he’d thought Rupert Ashton had snatched the gem from under his nose. Ashton was a jewel thief, you see, like Philip, and he’d wangled an invitation to White’s house in Devon, just as Philip had, for the sole purpose of relieving White of ownership of the Rajah’s Ruby. There was no love lost between the two men, and that’s to my advantage. I knew that the mention of Ashton’s name would anger Philip. It’s all complicated, I know, but the important bit is that I ended up with the ruby and Philip had to hightail it to the Continent wondering whether Ashton had stolen the gemstone from Philip’s case or I had been involved somehow. I’d given some thought as to the story I’d tell Philip if ever he reappeared in my life, and now I’d laid it out for him. When I’d concocted it, I had thought only to offer Philip an explanation and brush him off. But his involvement in this Mayhew matter had changed the situation and now I needed him to believe my tale and to trust me, at least to the point that I could penetrate his defenses and learn exactly what that involvement might be.

I leaned my cheek against his and sighed deeply, just to show the chap how pleased I was that he’d returned to the Big Smoke. He patted me absently, still mulling the information I had shared with him. It was time to bring him back to the present.

I fingered his gold chain admiringly. It was attached to a handsome timepiece, which I pulled from his pocket. I whistled softly. “Ooh, look at you. That’s a work of art you’ve got there. Cost a pretty penny, too. Are there any jewels left in France?”

He smiled. “A few.”

“And did you leave any virgins in
L’hexagone
?”

That made him laugh, and he gave me a squeeze. I relaxed a little at that, for it signified that we were moving back to our old ways together.

“I’ve been saving myself for you,” he said, burying his mouth in the hollow where my neck met my shoulder.

I know I’ve been wittering on about French and how anxious I was to get the poncy bastard in my bed, provided he could be persuaded to forget that precious fiancée of his, but I’ll be damned if Philip’s lips didn’t arouse a powerful feeling in me. I won’t apologize. It’s unnatural for a woman of my youth and vigor to behave like a nun and French had been no help at all in that department, given his propensity to act like a virgin on her wedding night. Philip’s touch aroused a lust I hadn’t felt for some time and I grasped his head between my palms and angled it so that I had a clear field of fire. Then I pressed my mouth to his. His lips were as soft and pliable as I remembered, and I spent a good deal of time reacquainting myself with every tasty morsel of that delectable mouth, nibbling on his lower lip and easing the sting of my teeth with soft caresses from my tongue. He cinched his arms around me and hugged me tighter. There was heat building between us, and suddenly Philip stood and carried me to the bed. He dropped me rather unceremoniously, which in the old days would have been merely the prelude to greater athletic endeavours from us both, but today the shock of hitting the bedcover served as a reminder that my dalliance with Philip was duty, not pleasure. I needed information, not to scratch an itch that had been building since I’d met French. The thought of French returned me to my original objective in locating Philip, namely winkling information from him about the stolen arms.

Philip launched himself at me but as he did I rolled sideways off the bed and sprang to my feet. He looked up at me in astonishment.

I gathered my dressing gown around me and stood panting, a pained smile on my face. “Dear boy, you’ve quite swept me off my feet.”

“Have I? Then what the devil are you doing out of bed?”

“As much as I’d love a frolic, I’ve got to attend to some business.”

“You own the place, India. Tell that old bird downstairs to handle things for you.”

He reached across the bed for me and I took a step back. I smiled hastily, for I didn’t want to discourage the chap.

“Now that you’re back in London, we’ve plenty of time to get reacquainted.”

Philip winked at me. “I should like to start now.”

I took his hand. “As would I. But I’ve got to leave here soon and I must bathe and dress.”

“You look inviting to me just as you are. Rather sleepy and rumpled.”

I smiled at him fondly. “What a smoothboots you are. Tell me where I can reach you and I’ll send word when I’ve finished my business and sorted out the girls and the customers. Then we’ll have a proper rendezvous.” This last I said in a husky voice that was full of promise. I’ve worked on that voice and it’s been very effective with men, if I do say so myself.

Unfortunately it did not elicit the desired response from Philip. I’d been fishing for an address. I’d planned to hire a few street urchins to stake it out and report to me on Philip’s movements. But Philip sidestepped my enquiry with ease.

“I’m afraid I’ve some affairs of my own to see to this week. It would be best if I contacted you.”

I pouted a bit, to show him how unsatisfactory this arrangement was, but the chap held firm. He wasn’t going to trust me yet. Wise man.

“What’s your business?” I asked him. “A house in Belgravia with an absent owner and a safe full of gemstones?”

Philip stood up and adjusted his clothing, tightening his cravat and arranging the creases in his trousers. “I’ve given up that work for the moment. I’m into something else. Much less dangerous than climbing around on rooftops. And I can stop praying that the old butler won’t come charging into the room with a service revolver while I’m cracking a safe.”

“Oh? What are you up to now?”

He put a finger to his lips. “Can’t say much, my dear. Even to you. But it’s as close as anything can come to being a sure thing. I’m piling up the dosh. In a few months, I plan to set up my own empire. I’ll hire the best cracksmen and fingersmiths and put them to work. I’ll plan the operations and fence the goods and if things get hot, I know where to send my boys and how to get them there without a hitch. Running from White was a useful exercise, actually. I know how to avoid the police in a half-dozen countries. I’ll make a fortune and live like a king.” He smiled dreamily, in contemplation of the criminal monarchy he proposed to establish.

“You’ll need a queen,” I observed.

“Have you someone in mind?” He shot me a teasing grin.

“You’ll want someone bright and ambitious and beautiful, of course.” I put a finger to my chin and pretended to think.

“Are you saying you might be interested in the position?” asked Philip. He swept a hand around the room. “You’d leave all this behind?”