Dance of Seduction (7 page)

“I wanted this conversation to be private.” Some of what she had to say to him she wouldn’t want
anyone
to hear, but especially not her pickpockets, even former ones.

“Private?” He slid behind the counter nearest her with an indolent smile. “I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she snapped. “It’s not what you think.”

“You can’t blame me for jumping to conclusions. I was fairly clear this morning about the only reason I’d want to see you in my shop. Yet here you are.”

Yes. And here
he
was, all six feet of him. This morning, in the vast outdoors, he hadn’t loomed quite so large or seemed quite so menacing. But in here the low ceiling barely cleared his head, and the gloomy, insufficient light tempted her imagination to supply bulkier shoulders and a broader chest than she’d noticed earlier.

Imagination, that’s all it was. Now that she knew his true nature, she was attributing to him a more threatening appearance than he really possessed—deeper-set eyes…an unyielding male jaw with its ghost of whiskers…rougher-cut hair.

And when he lifted the apple he was holding and bit into it, it had to be her imagination that made his teeth seem unnaturally white and sharp. She felt less like the huntswoman and more like Red Riding Hood by the minute.

“‘What great teeth you have,’” she muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing.” She steadied her nerves. “Anyway, I’m not here to provide you with companionship.”

“What a disappointment. But then why
are
you here?” He chewed slowly, his insolent gaze never leaving her face.

“Actually, I was looking for a watch.” Swallowing hard, she held out her hand. “The one that Johnny stole for you.”

He cocked his head. “You mean the one that Johnny stole
from
me.”

“You heard me correctly. You let me believe that the watch was yours, but you know perfectly well it isn’t.”

“Did Johnny tell you that?” He seemed utterly unperturbed by her accusation as he continued to munch on the apple.

“I overheard him and his friends discussing how he tried to sell it to you. Apparently you didn’t think to mention that during our little talk in the alley.”

His bland expression betrayed nothing. “I didn’t want to land poor Johnny in more trouble. It’s one thing for a boy to steal a watch—quite another to steal it and then attempt to sell it.”

“And even another for you to buy it when you knew it was stolen,” she retorted. “As I recall, being a fence is punishable by fourteen years’ transportation.”

“Ah, my lady, how dramatic you are!” He licked apple juice from his lips, making her think of secluded paths and whiffs of wolf in the woods. “The boy offered to sell me the watch, and I agreed. I thought it was a legitimate transaction. For all I knew, he was selling off his poor dead papa’s lifetime treasure to buy his sainted mama a bit of bread. And I hate to stand in the way of virtue.”

She snorted. His tales were even more glib than those her rogue uncles had tried to foist on her mother. “I swallowed your lies the first time because I was distracted by worry about what you’d do to Johnny. I’m not distracted now. If you’d truly thought it a legitimate transaction, you would have corrected me when I accused Johnny of stealing it from you in the first place.”

He shrugged. “You caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I’m sure I did. You weren’t about to admit you’re just another of the Specter’s fences, here to wreak havoc and tempt my poor children to—”

“The Specter? Who is he?”

She sensed his sudden alertness, though no flick of a muscle or change in expression betrayed it. “You know perfectly well who he is, I’m sure.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“He’s the king of the fences. They all work for him. He provides them with protection from the law, from what I understand.”

“You seem to know a great deal about this Specter fellow,” he said with a frown.

She glared at him for continuing the pretense. “My pickpockets are a fount of information. Until now, however, he’s pretty much kept to his own part of Spitalfields, and I’ve kept to mine.”

“Until now?”

“I assume you work for him like all the others. Before you came along, there were no fences on this end of the street. It made it easier to separate my boys from the life.”

A strange, almost regretful expression passed over his face before he masked it. “I work for no one but myself.”

“If that’s true, it won’t last for long. The Specter is very protective of his territory. He’ll either insist you work for him, or he’ll make sure you don’t work at all. He’s been known to dispatch competitors rather ruthlessly.”

She didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t his eruption of laughter. “Are you concerned for my safety, mademoiselle?” He clapped his hand to his breast in a mocking gesture. “I’m touched, truly touched that you care—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t care one pin what—” She
broke off with a curse. “I swear, you’re the most annoying creature I’ve ever had to deal with in my life.”

Leaning back against the wall behind the counter, he finished the apple, then tossed the core into a slop bucket. “Then you should have stayed away as I asked you to.”

She ignored his threatening tone, forcing herself to breathe calmly, speak rationally. “I’m only here to retrieve the watch and demand that you stop your illegal activities, at least with regard to my charges.”

“What ‘illegal activities’? I’m but a humble shopkeeper—”

“Oh, stuff and nonsense.” His smug confidence sparked her temper. “The one thing you are not, sir, is humble, and if you’re a shopkeeper, I’m the queen. You refuse to accept that I’m not some naive girl foolish enough to believe all your ridiculous lies.”

“That’s one thing we both agree on.” He pushed away from the wall, then leaned forward to plant his elbows on the counter, putting him at her eye level. His gaze slid slowly down her, devouring her. “You are hardly a girl.”

“Stop that!”

“What?” he said in mock innocence.

“Looking at me as if you want to eat me up.”

His crooked smile was the very essence of wolf. “That’s exactly what I want.”

She fought down a blush. “You’d find me quite indigestible.”

“I doubt that seriously,
ma belle ange
.”

“I’m not your pretty angel, sir. I’m not your
anything
.”

“You could be,” he said suggestively.

“Don’t be absurd.” But a secret thrill coursed through her at the thought, making her scowl. Only her cursed Doggett blood would make her even consider such an outrageous possibility.

She forced herself to ignore his speaking looks. “And don’t try to distract me with such nonsense. I have proof that
you’re lying about the true nature of your activities. You’ve bought goods from enough thieves in the neighborhood to acquire a reputation.”

He lifted one wolfish brow. “I see Johnny has been very talkative.”

“That’s what happens when you deal with children. They talk.” She held out her hand once more. “Now give me that watch.”

“What do
you
intend to do with it?”

“Return it to its rightful owner, of course.”

“Who might that be?”

Flustered, she glanced away. “I don’t know.”

“That might hamper your efforts to return it, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’ll find out who it belongs to,” she retorted. “Johnny would only say that it was a gentry cove in Leadenhall Street, but there are ways to learn these things.”

“Oh? And what are these mysterious ‘ways’?”

“I’ll go to the police offices and see if anyone has reported a stolen watch.”

If she’d hoped that mention of the police would frighten him, she was sorely disappointed. “Then they’ll ask how you came by stolen goods, and your little Home will be put under immediate suspicion.”

Curse him, he had a point. “All right, I’ll tell them I found it.”

He straightened from the counter with a mocking smile. “The they’ll take the watch, promise to find its owner, and keep it for themselves. One of them might even come sell it to me. Then you’d have gone to all that trouble for nothing.”

She feared he might be right. Some of the police at the Lambeth Street Office must be corruptible, judging from the number of fences who thrived in Petticoat Lane. She might appeal to one of the magistrates who headed the office, but
he’d simply send her back to his underlings for such a petty concern.

Still, it annoyed her to have this…this scoundrel pointing out the truth. “You are very cynical, sir.”

“Why? Because I see all the disadvantages to your plans?” A sudden mischief leaped in his face. “Or perhaps you’re not disclosing your
real
plan. Perhaps you don’t intend to do anything with the watch at all.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “Except keep it for yourself.”

“What! You dare to imply—” She broke off when he burst into laughter. “I see. You find this all so amusing. Very well. You won’t think it’s amusing when I bring one of the officers here to arrest you.”

Though his laughter died, he didn’t look terribly worried. “If it will satisfy your notions of morality, then by all means bring one.” He edged around the counter until he stood on the same side as her.

Leaning one hand on it, he stood there, loose-limbed and nonchalant…and still taunting her with a smile, curse his hide. “But you have no proof of anything, as you well know. Besides, what police officer will take the word of a meddling lady reformer over that of a military man who served his country in our late glorious war? And yes, despite all your claims to the contrary, I was indeed a naval captain.”

“I know,” she muttered. “I found you in the navy lists.” She’d spent half the afternoon scanning the huge volume for his name.

He looked surprised. “I’m flattered. I must have impressed you very much if our encounter sent you straightaway to learn all you could about me.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Five years ago, you captained a third-rater—the
Titan
. No mention of you appears after that, although rumor has it that you spent the time with smugglers
and pirates. Not exactly the sort of thing to endear one to the police.”

“You shouldn’t listen to rumors. They’re apt to be false.”

“So you deny it?”

“I don’t have to. The police won’t take gossip as proof.”

His smug self-assurance only drove home the futility of this debate. Threats wouldn’t work with a hardened villain like him, especially if he had a police officer or two in his pocket.

But there was one incentive Captain Pryce and his kind always responded to.

“I’d hoped to avoid this, but you give me no choice.” She drew herself up straight, trying to project a businesslike demeanor. “What if I make it worth your while for you to leave Spitalfields?”

“That sounds very interesting.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fire leaping into his gaze as he lounged back against the counter with a sensual smile. “I can think of one way you could make it ‘worth my while.’”

Oh, bother, she shouldn’t have put it like that. She hastened to correct his impression. “I’ll give you two hundred pounds if you’ll close up here and reopen your shop elsewhere, preferably outside London, where you can’t corrupt my charges.”

At last she’d managed to wipe the mocking expression off his face. “What?”

“Consider it a fee for moving expenses if you wish. Two hundred pounds. But only if you leave by tomorrow.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s possible. But thanks to a generous uncle, I can now afford to indulge my mad whims, and this is my latest.”

“To pay me off.”

“Precisely.”

He searched her face as if to gauge her sincerity. Then he
shook his head. “I like London. I like Spitalfields. I have no intention of leaving.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t expected him to come cheap. “Three hundred pounds then.”

“Ah, so that’s why you stationed your footman outside. You wouldn’t want him to hear you offering money to a scoundrel. Tell me, do you pay off
everybody
capable of corrupting your charges? If so, you must be very rich.”

“Quite the bargainer, are you? Fine. Five hundred pounds. But that’s the most you’ll get out of me.”

“
Sacrebleu
, I don’t want—” He broke off, dragging his fingers through his hair with a look of frustration. “See here, I can make that sum in a matter of days. Your paltry offer is beneath my consideration.”

“Aha! So you admit that you’re receiving stolen goods.”

“I admit nothing.” He shoved away from the counter, his expression stormy. “Is this the purpose of your offer? To trap me into confessing to a crime?”

“No, truly it isn’t,” she said hastily. “It’s an honest offer.”

“I’m still not interested.” His gaze flicked past her to the front of the store. “You’d better leave before your watchdog grows impatient. He’s presently flirting with a milk-woman and has probably forgotten you’re even in here. Good day, Lady Clara.”

He turned on his heel and strode into the back room.

She hesitated. Though a quick glance at Samuel showed he was indeed preoccupied, she refused to simply give up. Throwing caution to the winds, she headed into the back room after her quarry. He was lighting a lantern, his head bent at the task.

“I’m not asking you to stop your activities, you know,” she said.

He froze, his broad back to her.

She hastened on. “I merely wish you to do them elsewhere. It’s a good opportunity for you to make easy money. It’s funds you wouldn’t have otherwise, and all you need do is pack up and move your shady enterprise.”

“This isn’t a shady—”

“Your accepting the money needn’t even be an admission of guilt. In fact, if you’re engaged in honest labor, you ought to leap at the chance to receive money for something so easy as moving your shop.”

Slowly he faced her, eyes ominously black. “Perhaps I simply don’t trust fine ladies when they offer me money for so little.”

“It’s not so little to me.”

“All the same, you’ll forgive me if I refuse to risk my life or livelihood on a dubious offer of funds.”