“That you turned from me I can accept. I offered something less than honorable. That you turned from your situation and employment, that you walked away from your life, as you just said—I can think of no good reasons, and a few bad ones suggest themselves.”
She ached to confide in him. She was so tired of being a pawn in that unknown man’s game. She wanted to be free of the worry about her mother.
But she didn’t dare trust him. He had a duty to his honor and his title.
She feared he would release her hand. She clutched tightly because his hold comforted her more than she ever thought a human touch could.
“I wish we were holding each other in your bed as we did mere days ago,” she whispered while tears filmed in her eyes. “I wish that man were sitting here now, and not this stern, harsh duke who I believe will despise me no matter what I say. I trusted that man with my body and heart. In my soul, I knew I could. I do not think I can trust you now, however.”
She kissed his hand, then let him go. She jumped up and ran into the house.
Chapter Sixteen
He felt her presence throughout the house. He had not seen her since she ran away from him in the garden a few hours before, but he could sense her so clearly that he could follow her in his mind as she moved through the house. All the while, her last words repeated in his head.I do not think I can trust you now.
Trust him with what? What terrible burden did she carry that had led her to risk so much to steal a few ancient artifacts? He was sure he had guessed only part of the story. He wanted to hear the rest, and not only so he knew what he faced due to being involved.
And how the hell had she managed it at Sir Malcolm’s house? It would require risking life and limb to jump from one window to the next.
There had been no stolen goods in that trunk or valise. He looked while he waited for her in that dreadful cellar. She was not the collector, but then he’d never thought she was. Rather he had hoped to find the evidence and remove it so she did not hold stolen goods.
The buckle and brooch were gone already. To whom? He’d found little money in his search, so where was the payment she received for her services?
He left the house to find some peace. He visited his club. Stratton and Brentworth were there. They played cards while Stratton bored them with yawn-by-gurgle details about his son.
Then the talk took an unfortunate turn.
“I say, Stratton, did you hear about the theft at Sir Malcolm Nutley’s house?” Brentworth asked.
Stratton, who had no time for news these days, had not.
“The thief went in through a window,” Brentworth said. “A high window. Hell of a thing.”
Gabriel had not told him that detail. Brentworth had been poking around. “I said no questions,” he muttered when a friend distracted Stratton with congratulations about the heir.
“And I asked none of you, as you required.”
“No, you went elsewhere and probably stirred all kinds of pots with your curiosity.”
“I have property to protect.”
“Then protect it, but otherwise keep your nose out of this.”
“A high window,” Stratton said, returning his attention. “That is odd. A rare skill. One misstep and down you go.”
Gabriel pictured Amanda plummeting to the ground outside Harry’s house. He wished Stratton had not warmed to the topic.
“There was a fellow in France when I first went back who became celebrated for going in and out windows. He knew his jewels and only stole the best,” Stratton said. “What was his name now? He was caught and the trial was all the talk.” He pondered. “An English fellow. Watkins—no, Willow? That’s not it.” He gave up with a shrug.
“What became of him? Might he have moved his adventures here to London?” Brentworth asked.
“He was sent to a penal colony. He probably died there. Many do.”
That seemed a fitting end to the story.
“Or—” Brentworth said. “He may have jumped ship. Think about it. What would hold such a man on a prisoner ship? Shackles? He may be good with locks. The seas themselves? All ships must call into ports for water and provisions. Guards? None are strict to their duties. In a port he could even jump to another ship and avoid the guards that way if he has this talent in movement.”
Gabriel’s thoughts returned to Amanda. Stealing those items had taken great skill—skill acquired only through years of practice.
