Chapter Fifteen
There was somethingnew and different from the ever-present thread of desire between him and Danny today. A sense of quiet contentment Percy hadn’t expected.
With Denise somewhere on the grounds preoccupying the displeased Mrs. Pebblestone with some new malady, Percy leaned back against a low-lying stone wall, one of dozens in Grandfellow’s topiary park. Eating sandwiches layered with varied thin slices of meat and cucumber and taking in the filtered rays of the warm sun, Percy concluded revealing one’s true nature to another person was a freeing exercise that left a kind of peace to one’s constitution.
Taking another bite of salted pork between two healthy slices of rye bread, Percy found he didn’t mind the peace or quiet one bit, or the sandwiches.
“Teach me one of your cons,” Danny said beside him.
Percy choked on his bite and pounded his chest with a fist. The blanket they were using for Danny’s activity choice of a picnic twisted around his boot. An activity Percy had assumed was less likely to end with them in some dire situation. Now he had second thoughts.
“Cons?” He set down his food in hopes of further harm and cast a frown her way. “I told you I was an officer.”
Her returning expression was stubborn. “Notalwaysan officer.”
He tilted his head to get a better angle to look at her face. This should be good. “And what other occupation do you believe I held?”
“A spy and a conman.”
“Obviously,” he muttered. No use denying the allegations. There must have been a smell men like him carried around, something the nose of a buttoned-up lady of thetoncould sniff out like old trout. Though he’d wager Danny was a rare breed that far surpassed all others. What other woman could sniff outhissecrets while wearing the most fetching sunflower gold frock, all with the expression of a general staring down her enemy until they cracked?
Not seeing a way out of answering, Percy relented. “We prefer the termprestidigitator.”
“Prestidigitators are illusionists that entertain the masses,” she pushed back immediately. “I doubt your prestiditeg-es are amused once they realize they’ve been conned.”
Percy ran a hand over his face. She was a freaking dog with a bone. And as stubborn as a bull in the pen. There was no getting out of it, then.
He sat up and pointed to one of the gardeners across the park currently moving potted topiaries to one side of the walk, standing back and apparently finding fault, and then returning them to their original position, only to repeat the process a minute later.
English servants were touched in the head. There must have been something more productive for a grown man to do than play board-less chess in the middle of the afternoon?
“Imagine you want that topiary,” he said.
Danny laughed. “Why would I want a bush cut to resemble a bear?”
He raised his brows at her lack of imagination. “Perhaps it’s the only remaining record of the animal. Maybe the late ThomasWoolner cut it during his last hours of life. A collector would pay handsomely to have such a rare piece from the artist they admired, wouldn’t they?”
“That bear was cut by Mr. Stonebrook, a most prestigiousgardener.” She frowned at the bush. “I’m not even sure that’s actually meant to be a bear.” She squinted. “A boar on its hind legs?” Her head tilted to look from a different angle. “A pregnant goat rearing in a fit of apoplexy?”
Percy rolled his eyes. This coming from the woman who couldn’t imagine a priceless tree worth pinching. “Work with me, woman.”
She sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “You were saying the topiary is the last precious piece by a famous, dead artist.”
Percy nodded. “And you want to steal it.”
Her eyes widened. “I do?”
He leaned close, enjoying her quick intake of breath. “Wedo.”
She licked her lips. “Where do we start?”
Her eagerness was so damn charming. Percy cleared his throat and mentally slugged himself.Focus, damn it.
Percy cleared away a spot on the blanket and used what remained in their basket to indicate each position.
He set a ham sandwich down. “This here represents the gardener. What we call the ‘mark.’ As in—”
“The person you wish to con.” Danny waved her hand for him to glance over the obvious.
