The Devil's Thief (16 page)

Alasdair
turned back and watched Julianna walk out of her house, dressed smartly in a
dark blue military-style ensemble that swallowed her fine figure. A maid
followed closely behind her. Julianna paused and turned back to say something
to the girl, who joined her at her side. Smiling kindly at the girl, Julianna
looked delicate and bookish and sweet. It made Alasdair want to march across
the street, toss her skirts up, and take her until she screamed.

“Why
on earth would I accost
her
?” Roger
asked bemusedly. “She is hardly a siren, nor even my usual type.”

Alasdair
spun about and grabbed Roger by his lapel, his arm already swinging back to
deliver a blow before he knew what he was doing. Hil used his walking stick to
stop him, and it hit his arm.

“Ow!”
he yelled, releasing Roger, who stumbled back out of reach.

Hil
glared at them both. “What are you doing, sparring in the street?” he demanded.
“I have looked the other way at your previous ungentlemanly behavior, but this
is unacceptable.” He pointed at Roger. “Apologize to Sharp.”

“For
what?” Roger demanded. “For stating the obvious? She’s no beauty, and you know
it.”

“Roger,”
Alasdair said dangerously. “If I hear one more disparaging word from your mouth,
I will silence you permanently.”

Hil
put his hands on his hips and stared at the sidewalk, breathing deeply. He
finally looked up at Roger, his disappointment clear on his face. “Have you
learned nothing, Roger, in all these years?” He shook his head and stared
across the street at Julianna, who had noticed the
ruckus
they were making and stood staring back. “She is a beauty the likes of which
you may never see again.”

Alasdair
suddenly wanted to hit Hil, too. “Stay away, Hil.”

Hil
shook his head and pointed at Alasdair with his walking stick. “And you, Sharp.
You had better get yourself together or we are heading straight for failure. Do
you understand?”

Alasdair
swung around to face Julianna again, frustrated beyond imagining. “Yes,” he
said shortly. “You are absolutely right. I apologize.” He gave Hil an angry
glance over his shoulder. “You knew. You knew who she was all along, didn’t
you? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Hil’s
grin was maddening. “I thought it would be much more fun this way.” He turned
to watch Julianna again. “If it were not for her father, I would never have
guessed.”

Alasdair
frowned. “Her father? What does he have to do with it? I very much doubt he
would condone his daughter committing larceny.”

Hil
gave him another mysterious smile. “Hmm, didn’t get that far in your conversation
yesterday evening, I see.”

Alasdair
shook his head in confusion. “Dammit, Hil, if you have something to say, be
clear for once instead of turning it into a puzzle.”

“When
the time is right,” Hil told him, turning away. Alasdair knew what that
meant.
 
The subject was now closed.

Roger
sighed and came to stand beside Alasdair, placing a tentative hand on his stiff
shoulder. “I’m sorry, old man. I didn’t mean to disparage your little thief.
She is quite pretty, and I’m sure there is a great deal to her that I know
nothing about. But she is, you must admit, far from my usual woman. That is, of
course, not a bad thing, since my usual women tend to be, shall we say . . . evil.
But even drunk I stay clear of her type. Sweet, pretty, well-bred young ladies
are anathema to me.”

Alasdair
could tell a heated conversation was occurring across the street. Julianna and
her maid were arguing in hushed voices. He couldn’t hear what they were saying,
but Julianna’s maid was pointing to them and Julianna was shaking her head. She
looked over at him and he took an involuntary step toward her. She backed up,
as if afraid, and he froze where he stood, a sick feeling in the pit of his
stomach. Just then a carriage pulled up and a footman jumped down and opened
the door for Julianna. She took her maid’s hand and they hurried inside.

As
the carriage pulled away, Hil grabbed both Alasdair and Roger by their arms and
steered them to their waiting horses. “We must go, gentleman, if we do not wish
to lose her.”

*
         
*
         
*

Her
first stop that morning was the fishmongers at Billingsgate Market. She was
shopping for food for the foundling home and could afford the best. After today
she would need to start economizing again. Mrs. Eden would be so happy. The
older woman who ran the home constantly worried so about their lack of funds, and
was always trying to stretch
a pence
into a pound.

She
glanced around nervously as she wandered from shed to shed. She wondered again
what Alasdair and Sir Hilary and Mr. Templeton had been doing on the street
this morning. They had appeared to be fighting about something.
About her?
Alasdair had started to walk over to her,
frowning fiercely, and she had run away like a frightened rabbit.

He
had looked so incredibly handsome, and so incredibly unhappy to see her. She,
on the other hand, had been inexcusably delighted to see him. After his
behavior last evening she should have been hoping a carriage would come along
and mow him down in the street. Had he followed her? She snorted at the
thought. Why would he follow her? He knew exactly where to find her now.

Half
an hour later she turned to leave the last shed, her footman and maid trailing behind
her carrying the baskets of fish she’d bought. She was mentally ticking off
items on her list of errands, including meeting with the solicitor at two
o’clock to deliver the rent monies, when she ran right into a gentleman who was
blocking the doorway.

“Oof!”
he said as she barreled into him.

“Oh,
dear!” Julianna cried, stumbling back. She would have fallen if he hadn’t
reached out a gloved hand and grabbed her arm.

“Thank
you,” Julianna said sincerely as she regained her footing. “I’m so sorry—”_She
broke off as she looked up at the gentleman’s face. “You.”

Alasdair
swept off his hat and bowed formally. The sun glinted off his golden curls and
highlighted the breadth of his shoulders in his hunter green coat. “Good
morning, Miss Harte. How do you do?” His smile was wide but it didn’t reach his
eyes. “We began to worry that you may have slipped out the back without our
knowledge.”

 
Julianna could hear Tessa gasp at
Alasdair’s familiarity. Her lips thinned in annoyance. He had followed her here.
Part of her was thrilled, but the sane part knew it had everything to do with
his damned pearl and very little to do with a desire for her company.

“If
I had known you were waiting outside to accost me, I most certainly would
have,” she retorted haughtily. “Shall I have Thomas call the watch?”

Thomas,
her footman, was observing their conversation warily. “Miss?” he asked.

Alasdair
laughed as if he hadn’t a care in the world, as if she’d just made a very
enjoyable quip. “Now, Miss Harte, as amusing as that is, you must reassure the
man that you are only jesting.” He smiled indulgently at her, and then winked
at Thomas. “I am acquainted with Mr. Harte. We are neighbors, actually, and we
have known each other for some time. I saw her on the street this morning and I
was worried about her being out so early. I found it highly unusual.” He raised
his eyebrow and gave Julianna a hard smile. “Is that not so, Miss Harte?”

Julianna
fumed. Strictly speaking she could dispute nothing he had said except that last
remark. “I do not know what you may or may not have been worried about this
morning, Mr. Sharp.” She smiled sweetly at him. “But I have some ideas.”

Alasdair’s
smile faltered and his eyes narrowed. “Yes, I’m sure you do.” He held out his
arm gallantly. “May I escort you home, Miss Harte?
Unless you
have other errands to run?
Perhaps a treasure or two to pick up from a
shop?”

There
it was.
The pearl, the
pearl, the pearl
.
Was it all he thought about? Wasn’t he thinking
about last night? About the way it had felt when he took her so wildly? She was
having trouble thinking about anything else. She felt a blush steal across her
cheeks. She was sore from his rough possession and she’d secretly been enjoying
the feeling all morning.

“Only
if the treasures are to be found among the vegetables at Covent Garden or the
bakehouse, Mr. Sharp.” She felt a surge of satisfaction at his obvious
disappointment. Then his face brightened and he looked far too cunning for her
peace of mind.

“Excellent,”
he said jovially. “A treasure hunt. If you are very lucky, we will find
something among the sweet cakes.” He held up his arm again. “Shall we?”

Julianna
didn’t try to hide her dismay. He simply could not accompany her today. How
would she explain the bank notes she needed to exchange before meeting with the
solicitor later? If he saw them, he’d want to know who Blackman was, which was
a frightening possibility. She shivered.

His
gaze bit into her like a brand. “Are you all right, Miss Harte?”

He
seemed so concerned, so solicitous. But he was clearly gauging her reaction,
looking for weaknesses in her defenses. She had never felt more vulnerable. She
couldn’t do this. She couldn’t. She would give herself away. She would ruin
everything, and put him at risk. Why hadn’t she thought of that before now? If
Alasdair tried to retrieve the pearl, there was no telling what Blackman might
do to him.

She
bit the inside of her cheek and smiled stiffly. “I’m fine, Mr. Sharp. Thank you
for your offer, but there is no need for you to accompany me today.” She
gestured behind at Tessa. “I have my maid with me as well as Thomas, as you can
see.”

“Perhaps
I desire the pleasure of your company,” he swiftly responded.

If only that were true,
she thought sadly.
But quite, quite
impossible now.

She
laughed lightly. “I hardly think that is your motive, sir,” she answered
flirtatiously. “But if you wish to bore yourself with my household errands,
then by all means let us be off.” She turned to smile at Thomas and Tessa and
she could see the relief in their faces. It had been wrong of her to involve
them.

When
they reached the street, Mr. Templeton straightened from the post where he’d
been leaning and tipped his hat. “Good morning, Miss Harte,” he said politely.
He looked wary and embarrassed. Good, he should be. She was in no mood to grant
him clemency today. She nodded stiffly at him, and his cheeks flushed. “May I
take this opportunity to apologize for my behavior last evening,” he stated
rather formally. Julianna glanced nervously at her servants, who were watching
the exchange avidly.

“You
made your apologies last night, Mr. Templeton,” she said dismissively. “It was
not your fault that I was clumsy and spilled lemonade on my dress.”

She
could immediately tell that he had picked up on the subtle nuances of her
response. She had not accepted his apology, and she did not regret dumping
lemonade on him, only that she had gotten some on her dress as well.

He
gave her a wry, chagrined look. “Yes, well, I am sorry you got lemonade on your
dress, Miss Harte. I would have borne the brunt of it if I could.”

Julianna
couldn’t keep her lips from quirking. “I believe you did just that, Mr.
Templeton.”

“We
are off to the baker’s, Templeton,” Alasdair told him, patting Julianna’s hand
on his arm as if in affection. But she knew it for what it was, a reminder that
she couldn’t escape him.

Mr.
Templeton put his tall hat back on at a rakish angle. “Very good,” he said
decisively. “I have always had a soft spot for the bakehouse.”

“I
hope you feel the same about Covent Garden,” Julianna replied with a bit more
sarcasm than was polite, “because that is where we are going first.”

He
seemed pale and out of sorts this morning, no doubt a result of last night’s
drinking, she supposed. His face lost a little more color at her declaration.

“Are
we? Shopping for food today, hmm? I find the thought is perhaps not as pleasing
as another errand might be.”

“I
daresay the walk will do you good, Mr. Templeton,” she told him piously. “You
needn’t accompany me, you know.”

“We
insist,” Alasdair drawled.

Julianna
had planned to drop the fish off at the foundling home before doing her other
shopping. She was vexed that now she could not. “Then you shall have to share
the carriage with the fish,” she told them, and watched with satisfaction as
Mr. Templeton’s face blanched again.

“We
do not wish to crowd you in the carriage, Miss Harte,” Mr. Templeton quickly
told her.

“And
we have no need to,” Alasdair added. “We rode our own mounts and can follow the
carriage.” He looked so smug that Julianna wished she had a response to put him
in his place, but she couldn’t think of a thing.

“Of
course you can,” she said flatly. She’d meant it more as a sardonic set down,
but they took it as agreement.