“Oh, come now, Miss Marwick. I don’t deny Alfie must have skills I do not, but I am fit and healthy, and a great deal stronger than he is. I ought to be an asset, not a hindrance.”
She snorted, her disgust so evident he felt heat climbing up the back of his neck.
“You doubt me?” he demanded, annoyed by her lack of faith.
“Mr Seymour, you have been raised a gentleman, with a gentleman’s notions of fair play, I don’t doubt. Alfie was picking pockets by the time he was six, could unpick any lock by the age of ten, and was one of the most sought-after cracksmen in town by the time he was eighteen. He’s lived by his wits his entire life, evading the law and avoiding having his throat cut by bigger and more powerful men than you. How in the name of everything holy do you propose to help him?” She marched up and down the parlour, her fists clenched as she continued to rant, apparently quite unable to sit still her vexation had risen to such a pitch. “You’ll be nothing but a hindrance and make it even more likely that he’ll end up dancing with Jack Ketch while you’ll walk free thanks to your cousin,the duke. Though I suppose you realise you’ll never be able to show your face in society again. It’s madness, is what it is, and I won’t have it.”
The cant expression made Aubrey wince, reminding him that this was deadly serious. All the same, on the one hand he did not trust Alfie as far as he could throw him, and on the other, he was not about to let the lad risk his neck alone. They would be in it together.
“Youwon’t have it?” Aubrey said, sitting back and crossing his arms. “Does Alfie hide behind your skirts then? You make all his decisions for him?”
She blushed at that, putting up her chin. “Certainly not, but I know him better than anyone, and I know what he thinks. He’ll tell you just what I’ve told you, only be a deal less polite about it.”
“I can’t wait,” Aubrey said with a thin smile. “You may tell your brother, when he crawls out of whatever hiding place he’s making use of, that I will meet him in the Swan tonight at eight. If he’s not there, I’ll have no choice but to take what I know to my cousin,the duke,”he said, putting the same emphasis on Hawkney’s title she’d had. “I’ll not see Alfie hang, but perhaps the threat of transportation, or a few years' hard labour, might focus his mind somewhat. Good day to you, Miss Marwick.”
Feeling like an utter brute, Aubrey snatched up his hat and turned for the door, only to feel Miss Marwick tugging at his arm.
“Alfie will be there,” she said, something shining in her eyes that made his heart hurt and regret every harsh word he’d spoken. “He’s not wicked, Mr Seymour. Neither of us are. We never meant to harm you or your family. I know what we do is not exactly honest, but Alfie only steals from those people he finds despicable. Wealthy, arrogant, vile men like your uncle are fair game as far as he’s concerned. He would never have stolen from your sister, or from you. I swear he was utterly wretched when he discovered who the diamonds really belonged to.”
Aubrey gazed down at her, into eyes of silver grey, and saw nothing but sincerity. Perhaps he was a fool, perhaps she was taking him in again, but he believed her. He let out an uneven breath, giving in to the inevitable.
“Damn it, Alice. I’d do nothing to hurt Alfie, and if you think I would, then you don’t know or understand me at all. I’m all threat and bluster, but I will have those diamonds back, and I won’t have Alfie risking his neck alone. You may tell him I’ll do just what he instructs me to do, but this is what I ask in recompense for the shabby way you’ve both treated me. Would you deny me that much?”
“But you must see it’s madness,” she said again, her small hand tightening on his sleeve, but she stared into his implacable gaze and closed her eyes. “Very well. I’ll tell Alfie to meet you tonight to make plans. There’s not much time if we are to act before Silas does.”
Aubrey nodded. “Thank you.” He covered the hand on his arm with his own, feeling how cold her fingers were. Impulsively, he took them between both his hands. “You’re chilled and out of sorts after all this upset. Sit by the fire and drink your tea and try not to worry. We’ll be fine.”
She made a small sound, somewhere between a laugh and sob, and the urge to take her into his arms was so sudden and so fierce Aubrey had to drop her hand to stop himself from acting.Christ. Miss Marwick, a respectable, if common-born young woman, would have been a hard enough prospect for Hawkney to swallow. The idea of becoming romantically involved with a woman whose brother was a notorious jewel thief would give the poor devil an apoplexy. The idea almost made Aubrey smile.
“We will speak again soon,” he promised, and bade her a good day.
Willow House, Little Valentine, 18thJanuary 1816
“Clara! Don’t keep the reverend down there chattering like the henwit you are. He’s come to see me, not you.”
Clara winced, darting a look at Reverend Honeywell, who was sitting comfortably in a chair by the fire.
“Not to worry, my dear. I’ll go up now. I just wanted to ensure you were well after your little tumble yesterday. You looked thoroughly chilled when you got home,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling with concern.
“It was nothing, truly. Just a little mishap,” Clara assured him, touched by his concern.
Miss Isabelle Honeywell looked up from her position on the floor, where she had sat so she could pet Benny. “I’d better be running along then, Papa,” she said eagerly, clearly not wanting to get dragged into visiting Aunt Edna. Clara didn’t blame her in the least. “I promised Mrs Fairway I’d come early to prepare for the meeting. She’s all at sixes and sevens because the dowager duchess is coming and Anne isn’t there to help. Are you coming along, Clara?”
Clara hesitated. She enjoyed the meetings of the Venturesome Ladies but, if she went, she’d have to face Miss Foxworthy and explain why she’d missed her last two sittings. Why the woman had chosen to paint her of all people, Clara could not fathom, but she knew Miss Foxworthy would be cross and she did not relish seeing her.
“Perhaps,” Clara said awkwardly. “If I can get away.”
“I will give your aunt an invigorating sermon about the benefits of fresh air for young people,” the reverend promised, winking at her. “That should do the trick.”
Clara laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, you are too good, sir.”
“Clara! What are you talking about down there? Stop being such a selfish wretch and send the reverend up and make us some tea!”
“Yes, Aunt,” Clara called back, turning apologetically back to the reverend. “I am sorry. You’d best go up before she works herself into a passion.”
“Indeed,” the reverend replied easily, knowing just what that would mean for Clara. “I’ll see you later, Izzy, dear.”
Izzy kissed her father’s cheek, bade Clara an affectionate adieu, and hurried out. Left alone, Clara went to the kitchen and set about making the tea.
