“Decided better of going to a brothel? Cade?” Claringdon asked.
“Exactly,” Rafe replied. “And think about it. The Black Fox has been in the papers again since Cade has been in town. He’s been accused of half a dozen crimes in the last six months. The night after the chap was supposedly out on ship in the harbor stealing jewels from the French, my brother comes home with a black eye.”
“Does seem like a string of coincidences? Don’t it?” Swifdon said.
Rafe set his jaw. “I always knew Cade was up to more than just some innocent fun, but I had no idea he was into this much trouble. I mean, the fake names, the pretend death. He’s probably wanted by the law in half a dozen other countries.”
“If this is true…” Swifdon eyed Rafe carefully.
Rafe let out a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid my twin brother is the Black Fox. If it’s true, I cannot keep it a secret. Not even for family.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Danielle darted behind the carriage wheels, her boots sucked into the mud. Trailing a person was never simple. It was much easier, however, when one dressed as a male. It had been sheer torture, these last few days, being trussed up in stays and forced to wear bonnets when she left the house. She was convinced the garment was waging a constant battle to strangle her.
She’d left the house ostensibly to run an errand. Then she’d hidden in an alleyway and changed as quickly as she could, stuffing the gown and other accoutrements behind a hedge. She could only hope the clothing remained where she left it. If not, she’d be forced to crawl back to Grimaldi and ask for new things.Thatwould be awkward.
Now that she was wearing a flowy gray shirt, breeches, and boots, she felt better than she had all week. Pretending to be male had many advantages and one of them was the ease and comfort of breeches.
She hurried across the road and braced her back against the wall of a nearby shop, turning and tugging down the brim of her cap in an effort to disguise herself. She’d trailed a great many people in her day and if she didn’t mistake her guess, Cade knew, or at least suspected, he was being followed. He stopped too often, glanced around too much. Either that or he was hoping to ensure he wasn’t being followed and of coursethatwas a fruitless hope.
Danielle had tracked him from Mayfair to a section of town she’d rarely been to before. It was a rookery. St. Giles. She was familiar with seedy parts of London, but the wharves were more her stomping grounds. The rookeries were unfamiliar territory and completely unsafe for a woman alone. Another advantage to dressing like a male. Still it was a good thing she knew how to take care of herself.
She followed Cade down one dark, dank alleyway after another in a zigzag pattern, one that clearly indicated he was suspicious. He was good. She’d allow him that. But she was better. She ducked into storefronts and hid in the shadows, while allowing him to maintain a sizable lead.
Where was he going? What was he doing? Was this why Grimaldi wanted her to watch him? To discover who he was meeting with and why?
Finally, Cade came to a stop in front of a questionable-looking tavern. The Bear’s Paw. He ducked inside, doffing his hat. Danielle waited an interminable five minutes before ducking in herself. It didn’t take her long to spy Cade in the back, sitting at a table with a swarthy-looking man. She sidled up as near as she dared and leaned back to listen. Good thing she had the hearing of a bat.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Duhaime,” the man said, greeting Cade. If she hadn’t already seen him sit down, she might’ve checked to ensure she’d followed the right man. Why was this man calling him Duhaime? She slid onto a nearby stool.
“How do you do, Moreau?” Cade replied.
“I cannot complain,” Moreau replied. “Care for a drink?”
“Do I ever refuse a drink?” Cade replied.
Moreau laughed and called to the barmaid who soon returned with two mugs of ale.
“Do you have it?” Cade asked after the barmaid slid the mug in front of him.
“Oui,” came Moreau’s answer.
Danielle leaned closer. She waved the barmaid away from herself. There was some movement and rustling, but their coats hid whatever they were trading off.Maudit. She couldn’t see.
“This is the original?” Cade asked.
“Absolument.”
Danielle pretended to be preoccupied with tying her boot.
“And the payment?” Moreau asked.
This time Danielle heard coins jingle. She surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder at the men, but couldn’t see how much was being exchanged. They were stealthy, which meant they were up to no good.
“Have you heard anything aboutle Renard Noir?”
Danielle blinked rapidly, her heart pounded. The Black Fox? She leaned closer to hear the answer. The stool tipped, apparently one of its legs was shorter than the others. Danielle nearly toppled to the ground. She righted herself and slapped her hands on the table in front of her to keep steady. So. Poorly. Done. By the time she could pick up the thread of conversation again, it had drifted to pleasantries and bawdy jokes.Maudit. She’d missed whatever they’d said about the Black Fox. As they spoke, she took note of some of the other patrons and her environment. She didn’t have long before the barmaid returned and demanded an order or made her leave.
