Behold the Thief (Rich Man Poor Man Book 4)

by Laura Landon

  “I hope you don’t mind me off’rin’ a little advice to ya, Grady.”

  He flicked an eyelid in her direction, then concentrated on his own tankard.

  “Would you keep yer advice to yerself if I did, Bonnie?”

  “Aw, you know me, Grady. I’m not sure I could do that. I feel I’d be shirkin’ my duty to ya.”

  “Then what’s yer advice, Bonnie?”

  “Yer in with a bad lot, Grady. That fella you’s just talkin’ with? He’s a bad sort.” She shook her head woefully. “Bad sort.”

  Grady’s head swung toward her. “So?”

  It was a fair question. Half the blokes in shouting distance from their table were what Lily would call a ‘bad sort’. The rest were even worse.

  “Ya know too much.” She watched him assess her words and realized she’d pierced his interest more quickly than she’d anticipated. “Now, take that earl you’s just talkin’ ‘bout. Ol’ What’s-his-name?”

  When Grady’s brows narrowed, she put up her hands in defense.

  “I know, I know, but I couldn’t help hearin’.”

  Lily leaned closer. “Guy like that wouldn’t be dumb enough ta leave a loose end like you…one what might come back to want more blunt to keep his mouth shut.”

  Lily’s words must have had an impact on Grady. The frown that deepened across his forehead told her that she’d given Grady something to think about and he didn’t like the answers he was getting. His hands might be the quickest in the city, but his mind struggled to keep up.

  Casting caution to the wind, Lily reached a hand across to pat his arm, taking the chance that showing sympathy might encourage him to participate in what she was about to suggest.

  It worked.

  “I din’t realize what I was gittin’ myself into when I said I’d nab the vases. But when I saw the hoity-toity nobs at that auction, and heard how much them vases got bids of, I knew it was like you said. I was a loose end that they’d have to take care of.”

  “But you was there and might as well do the deed, eh?”

  Grady nodded and drained his tankard.

  “Thing is, Grady, I just don’t wanna see you taken advantage of by some bleedin’ toff. I’d hate to see you with a pike in yer gullet.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  We. Excellent. He’d decided they would team up before she even suggested it.

  “You’s askin’ a good question when you wonder why that earl forced that old lady to take the vases to the auction, then turned around and had you steal them, when you coulda just got the job done at her place and nobody the wiser. Yer got any ideas why he’d do it that way?”

  “Nut’n I’d put money on.”

  “Well, I got me an idea.”

  Grady’s eyebrows shot up. “What yer thinkun?”

  “I think this earl is countin’ on whoever bought the vases to realize they’re fake and accuse Broadmoore of bein’ a fraud. Maybe they’re aimin’ to ruin him. Would be a good way to do it.”

  “That could be,” Grady murmured. “That leastwise makes sense.”

  “Which means they’ll need ta keep ya ‘round until the next auction. They’ll need you to nab something else the old lady puts on the auction. Just ta make sure the evidence is strong, dontcha know.”

  “You thinkun’ mebe you might help me figure this out so I don’t end up six feet under?”

  Lily considered the plan that stewed in her brain.

  “How knowledgeable do you think this earl feller is about the vases he had you steal?”

  “I don’t think he’d know the difference ‘tween the real vases and a piss pot.”

  “What if I could git my hands on the fake vases and we swapped them with the real ones. Tonight. Then, when this earl wants what he thinks are the real ones, you’ll give him the fake ones. Sure would leave him with egg on his face.”

  Grady paused for a few seconds, then a broad smile lifted the corners of his mouth enough that he showed his two missing front teeth. “Take his money and still fence the goods. That would serve him right.”

  It was sad that Grady didn’t see he was in even greater jeopardy if he did what Bonnie suggested. But she had a plan for that.

  Lily finished the brandy in her tankard then plopped it on the table. “I’m gonna see if I can git my hands on the fake vases. You git the real ones from wherever you stashed ‘em and I’ll meet you back here in a hour.”

  “How you know where t’ get the fakes?”

  “Aw, Grady, you know better ‘n ta ask a lady a question like that.”

  She watched him blush.

  “Why ya doin’ this, Bonnie?”

  “Cause I hate to see some no-good blackguard take advantage of an old lady, then use you, knowin’ he intends to kill you when he has no more use fer ya.”

  “I owe ya, Bonnie.”

  “Whitechapel blokes stick together,” Lily said, then rose to her feet and left the Devil’s Rest.

  Lily smiled at her success as she clamored on board the costermonger’s cart.

  “Everything go all right?” Murk Matthews was leaning against the wheel of Plunkett’s cart, playing the part of a friendly drunkard. It was evident that Plunk had filled Murk in on the scheme.

  “Well, you’re not going to like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “I need you to figure a way to get Grady Rankin out of town for good.”

  BEHOLD THE THIEF by Laura Landon

  Chapter Nine

  Jack arrived at Liam McGregor’s town house early the next morning. The butler received him, then informed him that Lady Millicent and Miss McGregor weren’t down yet, but that Mr. McGregor was in the breakfast room and invited Jack to join him.

  “Fill a plate, Jack,” Liam said when Jack entered the room. “I doubt you’ve eaten yet considering how early it is.”

  Jack greeted Liam, then filled a plate and sat across from Liam at the table.

  “I’d ask what brings you here so early, but after what Lily told me concerning the theft of the vases, I have a feeling I know.”

  “Did Lily tell you she intends to go to Whitechapel to talk to the person she thinks stole the vases?”

  “She mentioned as much.”

  “I hope you forbade her from going there alone.”

  Liam finished chewing a mouthful of sausage, then washed it down with his coffee. When he was safe from choking, he laughed. “You obviously don’t know Lily very well yet or you’d know you don’t forbid her from going anywhere or doing anything she has her mind set upon.”

  “But surely you know how unsafe it is for her to travel to that area of London.”

  “I know it’s not safe for you to go to that area of London, but Lily and I were raised in Whitechapel. We know firsthand what and who to avoid. And what and who we can trust.”

  Jack seemed slightly appalled by Liam’s answer.

  “Well, I refuse to let her go by herself.”

  “So, you intend to accompany her?”

  “I certainly do.”

  Jack had a feeling Liam thought he wouldn’t be up to giving Lily orders and expecting her to follow them. Well, he’d simply have to show Liam how it was done. Just because Jack’s father was the Marquess of Riverdon didn’t mean Jack was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.

  Jack had never been the favored child. That had been Gideon. Gideon had been the heir, the one his parents doted on. It wasn’t until Gideon and his wife were entering their eighth year of marriage without producing an heir that Jack had become important. His father’s instruction to wed and bed rankled even more each time Jack allowed himself to think on it.

  His father’s edict turned Jack’s stomach. He’d been on his own since he was nineteen, and his father had never, not once, cared a whit about what he did or who he associated with.

  “What do you intend to do?” Liam asked.

  “Lily believes that she can find the original vases,” Jack said.

  “But you dou
bt she can.”

  “I know she thinks she can, but it’s highly unlikely that she can.”

  “What makes you say that, Jack?” Lily said from the open doorway.

  Jack rose to his feet as did Liam. Lily waved them to resume their seats.

  “Good morning, Lily.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Broadmoore. You were about to tell my brother why you think it’s highly unlikely that I can retrieve the original vases.”

  Lily walked to the sideboard and heaped a small plate with breakfast items. Clearly, she didn’t wish to give the impression that she ate like a bird, as did most females in Society.

  She placed her plate on the table across from Jack. After she’d taken a sip of the coffee a footman poured for her, she lifted her head and locked her gaze with Jack’s.

  “Please, Mr. Broadmoore, tell me why you have so little faith in my abilities. Is it because I am a woman? Or, is it because I was raised in the slums of London, therefore I can’t possibly possess a brain?”

  How was he to address such a question?

  “I assure you, Miss McGregor, you have easily dispelled any such notions whatsoever.”

  A smile lifted the corners of Lily’s mouth, perfecting the lovely countenance he’d swiftly come to adore. His heart shifted in his chest, then settled when that same smile hinted that she didn’t believe his denials.

  “My advice to you Jack,” Liam McGregor said with a warning grin on his face, “would be to change the subject now and talk about the weather. I believe it would be a perfect day for a drive in the Park.”

  “And my advice,” Lily said, “would be for you to take my brother’s advice and ask me if I’d like to go for a ride in the Park. I agree with Liam. It looks like a perfect day for a drive.”

  “But I thought you would want to go to Whitechapel and attempt to retrieve the Qing vases.”

  “If I hadn’t already retrieved them, that’s exactly what I would want to do. But since I already have them in my possession, I believe what I’d like to do is take a drive to your godmother’s and see if we can get to the bottom of this mystery.”

  Jack struggled to close his dropped jaw. “Wait. You have them? But how…? When…?”

  “I’ll explain everything when we reach your godmother’s. I think the dowager duchess has a few details she might wish to share with us.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Jack said with controlled incredulity. “You went to Whitechapel last night even though I asked you to wait for me to go with you today?”

  “That was your mistake, Mr. Broadmoore. You didn’t ask me to wait for you, you demanded that I wait for you. You assumed that I wasn’t capable of going there on my own, but that I needed your help.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, sir, I did not.”

  Jack let his gaze rest on her and assessed this new level of complexity to the woman. She was strong and independent, and genuinely intelligent. She possessed everything he admired in a woman and he was in awe of her.

  The happiness in her eyes shimmered with glee, and if they had been alone in the room, Jack would have taken her in his arms and kissed her. But her brother was too good a friend, and Jack didn’t relish getting tossed out on his ear.

  Lily took several more bites of her food, then placed her napkin on her empty plate and rose from her chair. “You may finish your breakfast while I fetch a wrap. Then we shall embark on that ride you promised.”

  With that, Lily exited the room.

  Jack watched until Lily was out of earshot, then sat down in his chair and reached for his fork. “Did you know she was going to Whitechapel last night?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “And you allowed her to go unescorted in the middle of the night?”

  “I did. I offered to go with her but she told me she was capable of going by herself. So, I let her.”

  Jack raked his fingers through his dark hair and breathed a heavy sigh of disbelief. He couldn’t fathom this. He couldn’t believe Liam would let his sister leave the front stoop at night, much less travel to Whitechapel by herself and meet with a lowlife thief who had stolen two valuable vases from a crowded room. But he had. And Lily had retrieved the vases by herself.

  How on earth had she done that?

  “Miss McGregor is waiting for Mr. Broadmoore in the foyer,” the butler announced.

  “Then you’d better get going,” Liam said, popping the last bite of sausage into his mouth.

  Jack rose from the table and bade Liam good day, then walked to the foyer. One look at the stunning woman standing there and a knot tightened in his stomach. He’d never been drawn to any female like he was drawn to her. As he accepted his top hat a twinge of wariness struck. Was she controlling him as easily as she controlled her brother? Had she managed to get hold of the stolen treasures so quickly because it was actually she who pilfered them in the first place?

  But that was ridiculous. He was appalled at himself for even thinking such a monstrous thing. It made him positively clumsy as a youth as he fumbled himself behind her into the waiting carriage.

  At that moment, Lily turned to him with a dazzling smile and his concern fled.

  “Tell me how you did it.”

  “Well, if you must know—”

  “Yes, I must.”

  She merely smiled when he demanded to know, as if reconsidering her reply.

  “Yes,” he rephrased his statement, “if you don’t mind telling me.”

  “No, Mr. Broadmoore. I don’t mind.” She folded her hands and placed them in her lap. “When your Mary told us that the thief had a tattoo of an arrow at the base of his thumb, I knew the thief was a member of Grady Rankin’s gang.”

  “Who’s Grady Rankin?”

  “If you have to ask, that means you’ve never had a run-in with him or any of his men. You’d surely remember that scurrilous sort of reprobate.”

  “And you went to see this…reprobate?” Jack knew his tone was very accusatory and regretted it immediately.

  “Yes,” she countered defensively. “I knew it was Grady Rankin because he’s the best sleight of hand artist in all of Whitechapel. All of London, most likely. And I knew the job would have been worth enough money that he wouldn’t have entrusted any of his underlings with the switch.”

  “Did this Grady admit he’d switched the vases?”

  “Yes.”

  “But how…how in bloody blazes did you get him to hand them over to you?”

  Lily smiled conspiratorially.

  “I told him that I was familiar with the man who wanted the vases stolen—although I’m not. I told him how untrustworthy and underhanded that man was, and that as soon as whoever was behind the thefts didn’t need him anymore, Grady was a dead man.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “I may have embellished the truth a wee bit. But he believed it. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was well into his cups.”

  “Did he know who was behind the theft, or the reason they wanted to steal the vases?”

  Lily shook her head. “All Grady knew was that they called the man who wanted the vases stolen ‘the earl’.”

  Jack sucked in a breath and nearly choked on the air in his throat. “What did you say?”

  “They called the man ‘the earl’. Does that mean something to you?”

  “Bloody hell,” Jack said, then raked his fingers through his hair and sank back against the squabs.

  Lily watched the color drain from Jack’s face. She’d seen the tension between the dowager duchess and her nephews the moment they were introduced at the auction. But neither of them bore the title of earl. So what had it meant to Jack?

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “I hate to say it, Jack, but I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if your cousin Russell was behind all this. But this earl…it makes no sense to me, Jack. Who is he?”

  Jack shook his head sl
owly back and forth. “You haven’t met him.”

  Lily watched Jack as they made their way to the dowager Duchess of Camden’s home. A frown remained etched across his forehead, his hands stayed clenched about the reins, and a slight sheen of perspiration glistened on his face. His reaction made Lily concerned that the earl was a threat to Jack, and possibly even to the dowager duchess.

  When they reached Camden House, Jack didn’t pull up in front of the dowager’s residence, but drove the carriage to the rear of the house. He passed the reins to the stable boy and asked that their horse and carriage be looked after.

  Instead of going around to the front, Jack led her to a rear entrance that only someone who was a frequent visitor of the dowager duchess would know about. When they entered the house, Jack led her through back hallways until they reached the living section of the town house. He was comfortable here, like a welcome, expected fixture in the household.

  “Mr. Broadmoore,” a butler said warmly when they appeared from the kitchen quarters.

  “Shall we see ourselves up?” Jack asked.

  “By all means, sir. You’ll find Her Grace in the solarium.”

  Jack led Lily through a grand hall to a glass-domed garden. The dowager duchess sat on a brightly cushioned bench with her eyes closed and chin lifted, catching the morning sun.

  “Your Grace,” Jack said quietly, and she stirred, never once losing the poise that Lily had come to know was her natural bearing.

  Lily greeted the dowager duchess with a regal curtsy.

  “Jackson! Miss McGregor!” Her delight in seeing them moved Lily. “Come in. Come in and sit down!” She patted the cushions beside her for Lily, and Jack sat casually on the ottoman in front of them.

  The dowager duchess seemed to know instantly that they were not here on purely social business. “Is something wrong, Jack?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Jack said. He turned his attention from the dowager duchess to Lily.

  Lily could tell Jack was relying on her to explain what had happened. “As you know, Your Grace,” Lily began, “I purchased your two beautiful vases at the auction last night.”