Page 7 of Thief Taker

“You don’t mean—”

“I most certainly do. You’ve just the right look about you.”

Elias laughed. “Why, Groves, I had no idea you’d noticed—”

“Shut your gob. You know what I mean, or ain’t you seen all them flower girls making sheep’s eyes at you?”

Truth was, he hadn’t noticed. Why would he? But he wasn’t stupid and he did own a mirror. More than that, he’d seen other eyes watching him. Eyes in dark corners, in secret rooms full of illicit pleasures, into which no man of the law should venture. And yet Elias did…

Clearing his throat, he changed course. “So your idea is that I pose as a footman in this house?”

“Exactly that.” Groves sat back in his chair. “Servants see everything. The nobs don’t even know they’re there half the time, treat them like part of the furniture.”

“Which is why I take care to avoid the puffed-up buggers.”

“But think about it, Elias. You’d have intimate access to the household, to any papers, any correspondence that might shed light on the matter. If Wessex is there…”

It was tempting, as far as his work went. Elias scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know. I don’t much like the idea of bowing and scraping. There’s a reason I’m a thief taker and not a fart-catcher. I don’t like following orders. And I’m no good at it.”

“Lord knows that’s true, but it ain’t the first time you’ve taken on a role to uncover a crook, is it? Remember…” Groves snorted a laugh. “Remember when you was the pig man in Smithfield?”

Elias cracked a grin. “Ain’t likely to forget, am I? Stank for weeks. Nearly lost my lodgings over it, even after I’d burned those filthy breeches.”

They chuckled together for a moment or two, until Groves’s humour faded. He took a sip of small beer and tipped his head at Elias in query, waiting.

He sighed. “I don’t like the idea, and that’s the truth. Pretending to be a pig-man is one thing; pretending to be a footman to a viscount is something else.” He gestured to Groves’s list. “I’ve no desire to be fetching and carrying for that lot all day, even if it is just a pretence. But…” He pressed his hands flat to the table, bracing himself for honesty. “I’ve spent six months looking for Wessex among my vast and disreputable acquaintances, so maybe it is time to look elsewhere.”

“And Curzon Street’s the best place to start.”

“Question is, am I the best man for the job? I don’t know how to curtsy and I ain’t tugged my forelock once in my life.”

Groves rolled his eyes. “If you’d rather I give another man the opportunity to—”

“No.” That was the last thing he wanted, as Groves well knew. Wessex was his, and no other bugger was getting their hands on him. He glared at his friend. “I suppose, when you put it like that…”

“Excellent.” Groves rubbed his hands in satisfaction. “I’ll speak to Tobin tomorrow—he’s the butler. Owes me a favour.” He drained his mug and stood up. “Oh, and Elias? If Wessex is among this Curzon Street set, we’ve got one chance at this. Don’t botch it.”

Elias just smiled. “Come now, Josiah, you know I always get my man.”

Chapter 4

The next day, Elias found himself stuffed into a footman’s livery and finding his feet in a very different world.

He’d arrived at the Earl of Ashbourne’s house on Curzon Street that morning to find the place in utter disarray. The harried-looking butler, Mr. Tobin, had met him at the door to the servants’ entrance at the back of the house. He was a starched-up sod, but owed Groves a favour, something to do with a footpad in Hyde Park and Tobin’s favourite waistcoat, and so he ushered Elias directly into his pantry.

“Cole, is it?” Tobin said, walking around behind his table. He didn’t sit, so neither did Elias. “Mr. Groves has explained something of your business here.”

Not too much, Elias hoped. “That’s right, sir. We’re on the hunt for the man who’s been preying on the viscount’s associates. I hope to discover some information of use.”

“The Earl of Ashbourne keeps a respectable house,” Tobin said, although his expression betrayed some doubt. “I don’t know what you imagine you’ll find here.”

Elias grinned. “If I knew what I’d find here, I’d have no need to look, would I?” Tobin opened his mouth to reply, but Elias stopped him with a gesture. “But have no fear, sir, I’ll not interfere with the household business. I’ll be very discreet. And I’m happy to lend a hand.” A large crash from overhead, followed by raised voices, had them both looking ceilingward. “Uh, it seems to be a busy morning.”

Tobin sighed. “Indeed, it is, and I can’t say I wouldn’t welcome another set of hands. His lordship is hosting tonight. We need to remove the furniture to make room for his guests.”

“Remove the furniture?” Elias’s brows rose. “He must be expecting a lot of guests.”

Tobin’s answering nod was grim.