The Thief and the Rogue

by Rachel Donnelly

  Male magnetism seemed to ooze from his very pores—the dangerous kind that paralyzed the tongue. Her quiet country upbringing hadn’t prepared her to cope with the riot of sensations coursing through her. Her belly went all fluttery. She felt warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  “Would you allow me to call on you?”

  Kay blinked, but had no time to answer.

  Madame Careme, having dispensed with her customer, sailed toward them beaming with profuse pleasure. “Your Grace, I didn’t see you come in. What a pleasant surprise.”

  The air squeezed from Kay’s lungs.

  The floor seemed to shift, as though it might fall out from under her.

  “Lady Carlisle will be so happy to see you,” Madame Careme gushed. “But not just yet, I fear. We haven’t completed her fitting.”

  Kay didn’t wait to hear more. While the Duke bent his head to pay homage to the tips of Madame Careme’s fingers, she fled the shop. Her heart pounded so madly as she hastened down Bond Street, she could hear her own pulse rushing in her ears.

  The best she could do was a fast walk without drawing attention to herself. Nevertheless, it was the fastest she’d ever walked in her life. The ribbons loosened on her bonnet, letting it fall down her back to dangle around her neck. The elaborate chignon her maid, Lily, had slaved over that morning bounced and jiggled, threatening to uncoil. But she paid no heed.

  Then she heard it—a low voice against her ear, “You’re not running away from me are you, gorgeous?” His hold on her arm held her poised in mid-flight. “Was it something I said?”

  She felt the blood draining from her face and knew she must look as guilty as sin. The grim satisfaction on his face made her legs quake. Though paralyzed by fear, she managed to tap it down enough to keep her voice steady. “No, Your Grace.” She peered up at him, attempting a calm demeanor. “I’m afraid I’m late for an appointment. So if you would be so kind as to release me…”

  He smiled tightly. “I think not. You and I are going to have a little talk.”

  She wished she could pull away and tell him to go straight to Hades, but that wasn’t an option. She couldn’t risk drawing any further attention. Though the street was an acceptable promenade for women, it wasn’t acceptable for an unmarried woman to be seen improperly escorted—especially with a well-known rake and debaucher of women. “This is hardly the place for tete a` tete, don’t you think?”

  “My carriage is parked just down the street. This will only take a moment, I assure.” His lips curled upward, while his tone turned contemptuous. “I have no intention of suffering your company any longer than necessary.”

  Kay temper rose at his callous disregard for her reputation. It gave her the courage to assert herself. She had no intention of being seen in broad daylight in his carriage. “That is impossible. If you wish to speak with me, you must call at my home.”

  “Where you can hide behind the protection of your Uncle?” His cold gaze racked over her dispassionately. “I think not. I’ll be at Admiral Murray’s dinner party tomorrow night. I suggest you endeavor to be there. I understand your uncle is a gambling partner of his so that shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange.” With that, he released her arm and strode off down the street.

  Their exchange had only taken a matter of minutes. Still, Kay didn’t want to give the many passer-bys any more reason to speculate. She hastened back to the dressmaker’s shop, arriving just in time to meet Lady Carlisle as she emerged from the fitting room.

  Kay did her best to conceal her distress behind a small forced smile. All the while her limbs quaked while she listened to Lady Carlisle’s bubbly chatter. The violence in the Duke’s manner left her shaken. In fact, she felt certain his blighting tone and outraged profile would be etched in her memory forever.

  How quickly his charming manner had changed. To think she’d found him so gallant, rescuing her at the Carbery’s ball, when it had all been an act. When he’d known who she was all along! Why had she trusted him? How could she have been such a fool? She shivered to think what would have happened had she stayed in his carriage—what retribution his devious mind might have held in store for her then.

  She arrived home, to the sound of Fergus and Fabian arguing in the drawing room. Their raised voices carried out into the foyer.

  Cecil relieved her of her shawl, saying in modulated tones, “Your Uncles are in the drawing room, my lady.” His tall, lanky form remained stiff and erect as he imparted the information, his large blue eyes hooded above his sharp nose.

  “Indeed. Thank you, Cecil.” Her heart had yet to return to its normal pace since her confrontation with the Duke. She took a moment to compose herself, not wanting the twins to sniff out the reason for her disquieting mood.

  She entered the drawing room to view Fergus pacing in front of the blue silk festooned windows.

  Fabian lounged with one arm across the back of the blue and beige striped Hepplewhite sofa.

  “This is most inconvenient,” Fergus blustered. “I expressly told them not to deliver the furniture until the end of the month. Now I shall have to race down to the country to see it properly done. Of all the lack-witted incompetence!”

  “Kay, you’ve arrived just in time,” Fabian said with an exaggerated panged look. “His lord high and mighty is having trouble relinquishing guardianship of you for the week. Do assure him we’ll be just fine without him. We shan’t fall to pieces or sell his earldom out from under him.”

  “Of course we’ll be fine!” Kay flashed a reassuring smile. “It will be good practice for when I visit Grandmere. Uncle Fabian will be going it alone then as well.”

  Fergus ceased his pacing to pour himself a glass of claret from a decanter on one of the side tables. “And what happens when you’ve imbibed too much at the club and don’t make it home. Kay will be left to her own defenses.”

  Fabian threw up his hands in exasperation. “We employ twenty servants for pity sake! She’ll hardly be alone. Besides, I don’t know how you can possibly criticize me when you’re considering marrying her off to Charlie Galloway.”

  “What!” Kay couldn’t help but laugh. Not that she didn’t love Charlie, but he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself let alone anyone else. “Charlie is more like my brother than a beau. He’s the last person I’d consider marrying.”

  “I’m only thinking of you, Kay.” Fergus’ tone stiffened along with his neck. “Before Lord Galloway suggested it, the thought never crossed my mind. Though, it would be a comfortable match, considering how long you’ve known each other.”

  “Her slippers are very comfortable,” Fabian said acidly, “But she’d never consider wearing them out in public, would she? Kay can do a damn sight better than Charlie Galloway, for deuced sake.”

  Fergus glared at him from under his brows, but thankfully let the matter rest.

  Just now she had more serious problems to contend with—for instance, deciding what she was going to say to the Duke when she met him at the Admiral’s dinner party. Or, better yet, how she could avoid meeting him at all.

  Kay retired early to ponder the matter, closeting herself in her room for a long soak in the tub. A hot bath always did wonders for her reasoning. She’d rehearsed many a speech for her uncles there, to beg their forgiveness for whatever mischief she and Charlie had gotten themselves into.

  Unfortunately, all her efforts were for not. Fergus informed her at breakfast the next morning, they wouldn’t be attending the Admiral’s dinner party after all. He had an evening appointment with Mr. Morris, the furniture maker, and Fabian had forgotten all about it and agreed to dine at Brooks with a friend.

  Kay didn’t know whether to be relieved or anxious, in fact she vacillated between the two most of the day.

  But by evening, all alone save the servants, her worries began to mount. How could she have been so naïve? The Duke had obviously known who she was all along, and knowingly lured her into his carriage to interrogate her… which mea
nt he knew, or at least suspected she’d been the one to break into his house. So, there was a good chance he knew about the ring. Why else would he go to so much trouble to question her?

  The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became. The more frightened she became, the more she paced up and down the Persian carpet in the drawing room like a caged cat. Wallshire was a powerful man. If he chose to charge her with theft, she might go to prison, or worse—hang. The authorities favored hanging these days. People were hung for lesser crimes.

  Merciful heavens!

  What had she gotten herself into?

  She collapsed in one of the armchairs by the window and took up her embroidery again. Her satin stitch was usually very good, but for the life of her she could not make her fingers work. With a frustrated sigh, she put the embroidery down.

  She rose to fetch the French novel she’d been reading from her bedchamber. Uncle Fergus thought novels ridiculous, warning her not to waste her brain on them. But a frivolous intrigue was just what she needed right now.

  She had just lifted the book from her bedside table when Lily appeared in the opened doorway. “Cecil sent me to give you a message, my lady.”

  “Yes, Lily,” she said absently, thinking Uncle Fabian had forgotten something and wanted her to send it round to his club, most likely the samples of upholstery fabric he had meant to return. She would have to go down to the study and look for them.

  “The Duke of Wallshire is here to see you, my lady.”

  Kay froze.

  She stared at Lily for a long moment, then closed her eyes. She might have known he’d come, the bold devil. He wasn’t the sort to issue empty ultimatums or not follow through when they weren’t met. Unfortunately, it would do him little good. With her uncles out, she wasn’t obliged to receive him. Her lips curled into a small smile of satisfaction. “Have Cecil inform him, my uncles are out and regretfully I am unable to receive him this evening.”

  “Cecil has told him, my lady, but he refuses to leave.”

  “Of course he does,” Kay muttered under her breath. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed the folds of her butter yellow gown, then forced a tight smile. “Very well, tell Cecil to put him in the drawing room.” There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Now, was as good a time as any to plead her case and put the whole thing behind her. Even if he was as cruel and heartless as they said, he must have an ounce of compassion somewhere in his dark soul.

  But, when Kay entered the drawing room and saw his unyielding profile from where he lounged on the sofa, she wasn’t so certain.

  He rose, offering her a short mocking bow. “Lady Hamilton,” he drawled, “So good of you to receive me.”

  His insolent self-assurance grated, but she managed to keep her features carefully neutral. “Your Grace.” Her gaze flitted longingly to the open doorway. She wished she could slam the door shut and tell him to get on with it, but propriety dictated she leave it opened. Not that it mattered. It was highly improper that he was there in the first place. With any luck he’d accept her explanation with all haste and be gone.

  She lifted her hand to her earlobe then self-consciously let it drop. Her throat constricted, turning her voice husky as she fought to control her rising panic. “May I offer you something to drink?”

  “Brandy, if you have it please.”

  Kay glided to the side table by the window. Her hand trembled. She winced when the decanter clanged against the glass. Get a hold of yourself Katherine, for goodness sake. Not an easy thing to do with the guilt of her theft weighing on her conscience like a lead mantle. But, she squared her shoulders and presented the brandy to him with a gracious smile.

  He inclined his head in thanks.

  She perched herself on the edge of one of the blue wing chairs and waited with her hands folded in her lap.

  He’d reclaimed his spot on the sofa as though he owned it, sipping his brandy casually with his legs braced slightly apart.

  Though she kept her eyes demurely averted, her peripheral vision took in his long muscular thighs, snugly encased in his trousers. They looked as hard as granite. Her cheeks went hot.

  She could hardly stand the suspense. It was like staring at a viper, knowing it would strike, but not knowing when. She wished now she’d poured herself a drink—a very strong one.

  “Now,” he said in a deceptively quiet voice, “Perhaps you can tell me what you were looking for in my study.” There was an edge to his gently persuasive tone that set her heart to racing. And something else. Perversely, at that moment, it struck her how shockingly handsome he was. And how wretchedly inconvenient it was that he had become her enemy.

  “Nothing!” Fear crippled her tongue, causing her to stumble over her words. “My friend reported seeing a cat in the window. I feared the creature trapped, since the house had been closed up for so long. I thought to rescue it, but there was no sign of it when I got inside. I assure you, it was a mission of mercy. I’m… I’m very sorry, it was wrong to trespass and invade your privacy like that. I don’t blame you for being angry… and…and, I’m sorry.” Lame, very lame, Katherine. The whole thing sounded ridiculous to her own ears. What must he think? That she was a raving lack-wit!

  When she finally chanced a quick upward glance, his brandy eyes were riveted on her, his lips curled in a derisive smile. “A very intriguing story, but I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that.”

  Kay chafed at his scathing tone, resenting him making her feel like a foolish child. “I can do no more than apologize,” she told him stiffly. “If you’re not gentleman enough to accept my apology…”

  His eyes narrowed.

  Her heart knocked against her chest.

  “If you tell me who was with you, I might choose to ignore the fact that you had any part in it.”

  “There was no one with me,” she lied, promising silently to pray for her sorry black soul with the fervor of a saint before she slipped under the covers that night. “I was alone.”

  He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, his drink balanced in one hand. “I don’t know you very well, but I would almost stake my life you’re lying.” His tone turned soft, more dangerous. “I don’t like being lied to. Should I choose to involve the authorities… ” He let the threat hang like a noose.

  Her mouth went dry. She could almost feel the sweat oozing from her palms. She slid her tongue along her lips, swallowing hard. With some effort she forced herself to meet his gaze and what she saw made her rally. He was so arrogant, so bloody sure of himself. If he had cause to arrest her, why hadn’t he done so already?

  No.

  He had no real proof.

  She raised her chin with renewed confidence, addressing him in a cool dismissive tone. “I assure you, I was quite alone in my madness that day. Now,” she said, rising to her feet, “I’ve had enough of your interrogations for one evening. You may charge me with trespassing if you like, but I will deny it. And since you have no proof, it will come to nothing. Good evening, Your Grace.” That said, she stalked from the room with as much haughty dignity as she could muster, leaving Cecil to see their illustrious guest out.

  She only hoped her bluff worked. Since he hadn’t mentioned the ring, she assumed he didn’t know it was missing. Unfortunately, the only way she could keep him from knowing was to sneak it back where it belonged. And that, wasn’t going to be easy.

  There was no telling what he would do, if he caught her trespassing again.

  Chapter Four

  Hunter settled back on the leather seat of the coach and smiled. So, the little trespasser was indeed Lady Katherine Hamilton. Lady Carlisle had confirmed it, and now, he’d seen it with his own eyes. Nonetheless, he’d been determined to question the chit and hear her explanation for himself. Crème of society or not, she was still a little thief, albeit a breathtakingly beautiful one.

  And what an explanation!

  Good God!

  Some pitiful tale about a cat!

  God�
��s blood!

  How long had it taken her to conjure up that unlikely fabrication? Did she think him a gullible fool? He might have believed her if she’d said she was snooping about, out of simple curiosity, but rescuing a cat!

  But he had to give her credit. She’d been very convincing and commendable in her loyal silence regarding her accomplice. He could understand why she hadn’t wished to name him. But, there was something else…something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her remorse seemed genuine, and yet he was positive she hadn’t told him everything.

  It would be easier to swallow her tale if not for her connection to the Galloways. Not only were they neighbors, but friendly neighbors according to Lady Carlisle. That in itself made her guilty as sin.

  The very chatty Lady Carlisle had been forthcoming with all sorts of information. For once her flapping gums had proved useful, something he’d be spared for a short time. Henrietta had gone off to Bath for a fortnight, which suited him well. He’d gladly take what favors she offered until he grew bored, but he wished no long-term commitment with the pretty widow. A man could be driven to deafness by her gabber.

  He’d only just reached a settlement with his last mistress, a mess he had no intention of repeating anytime soon.

  A quick tumble at Madame Rousseau’s suited him well enough. She ran a respectable house of some twenty imaginative girls, where confidentiality was strictly adhered to and the brandy was of the best quality. There were no unwanted attachments to distract him from his shipping business or newly acquired ducal obligations.

  But tonight, he wasn’t in the mood for dalliance. After he’d paid his regards, he planned to collect Alex, even if he had to drag him out of there by the collar. Someone had to save him from his excesses.

  The carriage rolled to a stop.

  Hunter swung himself down from the vehicle, then shut the door firmly behind him. He strode up the steps to the wide red doors then gave the brass lion’s head two sharp raps.