“Stop complaining and get dressed. We still need to discuss the best way to get in and out and I need an idea of the layout.There’s a lot to do and what you’re wearing is the least of your worries.”
“Fine,” Aubrey muttered, and tugged his shirt off over his head, throwing it down upon the bed before reaching for his trouser buttons.
This seemed to startle Alfie, whose gaze fixed on Aubrey’s bare chest for a long moment before darting from the room. Aubrey watched him go, frowning, before giving the trousers on the bed a dubious once over. They were both on edge, that was all. Somehow, the risk of being caught in the act of burgling his grandmother’s house by his grace was just as daunting as breaking into Lord Jefferson’s house and stealing back the diamonds. The thought of having to explain himself to Hawkney made him go hot and cold at the same time and he pushed it away, struggling into the ragbag assortment of clothes as best he could.
Ocean View Villa, Little Valentine, 18thJanuary 1816
“Now what?” Lill asked in alarm, her voice an anxious whisper as Alfie hurried into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.
“Nothing,” Alfie replied, wondering how the hell he was going to get through this ridiculous escapade with his hands shaking as badly as they were now.
Lill wrinkled her nose, unconvinced. “Tell that to your face. You’re the colour of cooked lobster.”
“He started stripping off in front of me,” Alfie hissed, still thoroughly out of sorts.
Lill sniggered. “Well, he would. He thinks you’re a bloke like him, don’t he? You daft beggar. What’s up? See more than you bargained for?”
Alfie glared at Lill. “Pack it in.”
“Oh, come on. Is he as pretty out of his clothes as he is in them?” she pressed, eyes shining with interest.
“Prettier,” Alfie said shortly, wishing the image had not been burned into his eyes for all time. Long, lean muscle, powerful arms and —
“Bet you wish you’d been wearing a dress right then,” Lill teased, waggling her eyebrows.
“Stow it,” Alfie replied crossly, and not least because Lill was right. He’d wanted to reach out and touch all the warm, male skin and discover what it felt like, to discover the coarse, wiry hair, and the taut muscle of Aubrey’s abdomen. At least he’d had the sense to get out before he did something horribly reckless. Alfie was already too close to the hangman’s noose without getting taken up for gross indecency.
“You’re getting redder,” Lill hissed, delighted.
Alfie fought down a childish desire to stick out his tongue. “Hush up and don’t make any foolish comments about him wearing your clothes either. He’s going to look a right state, and no mistake.”
Though Lill had no liking for dressing as her male counterpart, sometimes it was a necessary evil, and so they always kept such an outfit at hand, just in case. Not that she made a very convincing lad, being far more well-endowed thanAlice, but under cover of darkness it worked well enough to avoid drawing attention.
Lill looked up as heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. “You’d best see to him. Are you sure you can convince him he’s being foolish?”
Alfie snorted. “I’m sure. I’ve got a lifetime’s experience, and he’s going to discover just what that means very shortly.”
“Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad though, for you to have a fella with you? I mean… a stronger,biggerfella—” she amended hurriedly upon seeing Alfie scowl.
“To stomp about and make a racket like that?” Alfie suggested, pulling a face as they heard Aubrey’s heavy tread reach the bottom of the stairs. “No, thank you,” he said succinctly and headed for the parlour.
Ocean View Villa, Little Valentine, 18thJanuary 1816
Aubrey stood awkwardly in front of the fire, feeling like a complete twit. The trousers ended somewhere just below his knees but were so big on the hips and waist he’d had to tie a bit of string around to hold them up. The coat had been so tight on the arms it had been a wasted effort, so he’d selected a shapeless smock-like covering that hung loosely over an ill-fitting shirt, both of which ended about a mile away from his wrists. On his head perched an article that had the temerity to call itself a hat, though it was like no head covering Aubrey had ever seen in his life, being shapeless and made of a greasy felt-like material thatdefied too close an inspection. He only prayed it wasn’t crawling with lice.
The door opened and Alfie walked in. The young man took in the sight before him and made a choked sound, swiftly covering his mouth with his hand.
Aubrey narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare. If you even think of laughing, I won’t be responsible for my actions. I assure you I will provide my own outfit for the night of the actual robbery.”
Alfie made a manful attempt to rearrange his face, but Aubrey was vexingly aware of the way his eyes watered with suppressed mirth. The rat.
Still, they managed to sit down and have a serious conversation about the layout of Hatherley Hall, the whereabouts of any staff at such an hour, and the best method of reaching Aubrey’s room undetected.
“Just to be clear, if my grandmother reports so much as a missing teaspoon in the years to come, I will hunt you down,” Aubrey said severely, as he made an adjustment to the plan he’d drawn out.
Alfie returned an indignant glare. “I would never do such a dastardly thing. And if you can’t believe that, you might at least grant me sense enough not to dirty my own doorstep.”
Aubrey stared at him, sensing the righteous indignation behind the words, and relented. “No, I don’t believe you would do such a thing,” he admitted, looking up as the clock struck midnight. “Are we ready, then?”
