“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be fine. Run along now, and next time take the longer path. There’s all sorts of dangerous fellows about near The Dog and Duck.”
He chucked her under the chin, just as if she was five years old, damn him, and stepped back.
“Turn around, Miss Honey.”
She stared at him blankly and he made a turning motion. “Turn around and count to ten.”
Frowning, she did as he told her, counting to ten before glancing over her shoulder. He was gone. Izzy swallowed, turning in a circle but finding no sign of him. Despite his warning to keep away from this path, she knew she would ignore it.
She would pray that he survived his reckless plan and walk this path every day until she saw him again.
The Swan, Little Valentine, 18thJanuary 1816
Aubrey did not know precisely what he expected when he walked into The Swan later that day. Perhaps that Alfie would be just the same mischievous, swaggering lad he’d been the last time they’d met, or that perhaps he’d be sullen and sulky. What he got was a cool-eyed, business-like greeting and no preamble. Two glasses of ale sat before the lad, and he silently pushed one towards Aubrey.
“I’ve sketched out what I know of Jefferson’s house,” Alfie said, setting a piece of paper down. “Though I imagine you know it better than I do.”
“Jefferson?” Aubrey echoed, unable to hide his astonishment. “You don’t mean—”
“Lord Jefferson, aye, I do. Did you not know the fellow was a crook?” Alfie said, his lip curling in disgust. “And his lovely house is in Mayfair. Been there, have you?”
Aubrey’s heart kicked in his chest. Though he had been given no information to make assumptions, he had imagined the fellow Alfie had sold the diamonds to would be an upper middle-class fellow living in a quiet, suburban locale. Breaking into Lord Jefferson’s home in bloody Mayfair—hell!What the devil was he getting into?
Alfie snorted and snatched the plan up, folding it carefully. “Thought as much. Look, just leave the job to me. If you don’t trust me, you can wait around the corner, out of sight, and bethere to watch me come out. I’ll hand the goods over and be on my way.”
Aubrey reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could put away the plan and plucked the paper from his fingers. Smoothing it back out on the table, he regarded the sketch with growing misgiving. “Where are they most likely to be?”
Alfie laughed, though the sound held little amusement. “Look, you don’t trust me an inch, I get it. I don’t even blame you for it, but this is not a job for an amateur.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it,” Aubrey said crossly. “I’m still bloody furious with you, and don’t think I’m not, but I’ll not have you risking everything while I sit safely out of the way. I’m not a coward and I’m not the kind of miserable bastard that would send a boy to his fate without standing beside him.”
Alfie bristled visibly at being called aboyand then let out an impatient sigh, dragging a hand through his short hair. “That’s even worse,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? You’re trying to be decent, but you’re only going to make it even more likely that you’ll be the one who sends me to the gallows.”
“Fine. Test me,” Aubrey said, folding his arms. “You clearly think I’m incapable of stealth or… or anything that you are good at. Set me a trial, if I fail, I’ll wait out of sight for you, but if not… we go in together.”
Alfie considered this, taking a sip of his ale. “So, I’ll set you a challenge, and you’ll do it?”
“Within reason, yes. Don’t go thinking up something ridiculous just to punish me,” he added, wondering if that had been such a reasonable suggestion after all.
Aubrey waited with increasing apprehension as Alfie sat back, arms folded, a look of intense concentration on his face.“All right,” he said. “What time does your butler lock up at Hatherley Hall?”
Aubrey frowned.
“Oh, stow it, I’m not about to mill the ken,” Alfie said with a sneer.
“I didn’t think it,” Aubrey retorted, nettled by the way the young man insisted on acting the injured party. “It depends, but not until after midnight if Hawk’s in residence. He keeps late hours.”
“A footman will stay by the front door?”
“Yes, certainly if anyone in the household is still out, and in case of late callers or emergencies.”
“And where is the brooch?”
Aubrey opened his mouth and closed it again. “In a locked chest in my room.”
Alfie grinned.
“You can’t be serious?” Aubrey objected.
