The Devil's Thief (27 page)

They
were still speaking quietly, though not furtively. But their private
conversation was beginning to attract attention despite Sir Hilary’s best efforts
to distract the others. Julianna smiled at the room in general and stepped
around Alasdair, intending to rescue her father from Mr. Lyttle’s frowns.
Alasdair bowed slightly as she passed and whispered near her ear, “I want you
to forget about the pearl. I will deal with it.”

She
didn’t bother to reply; she just raised her eyebrows as she threw him a glance
over her shoulder. He had a great deal to learn if he thought that was going to
stop her. She was determined to protect him and her father’s newfound
respectability.
And, of course, the children and the
foundling home.
And now she would also have to protect Mr. Wiley from
Alasdair. She finished off her sherry on the way to her father and Mr. Lyttle.

*
         
*
         
*

Julianna must be exhausted,
Alasdair thought as he watched her bid good night to her guests. She’d spent
the entire evening avoiding his subtle questioning. Hil had tried to help him.
He and Lyttle had some mutual acquaintances, including the Bow Street
investigator, Vickery. Alasdair had thought Julianna was going to have apoplexy
when Hil explained to Lyttle that they’d just seen Vickery today for some help
with a new case. For the past half hour since the gentlemen had rejoined the
ladies after dinner she had been studiously avoiding Alasdair altogether. He’d
been forced into the company of Miss Lyttle, who was so shy that each word he
dragged out of her was painful for both of them. The whole evening had been
incredibly vexing. And if Julianna smiled any more brightly at Lyttle, Alasdair
would not be responsible for his actions.

“What
a delightful evening,” Hil’s aunt Mrs. Honeychurch gushed to the baroness. “I
do love being privy to the conversations of well-educated gentlemen.”

While
everyone responded to that inane observation, Alasdair signaled to Hil that he
wanted a moment alone with Julianna. It had been impossible the entire evening
and he was frustrated beyond belief. They all began to filter out of the
drawing room, Alasdair first. Suddenly Hil stopped and exclaimed in alarm.

“Why,
I’ve lost my watch. Auntie, you remember the one? I received it several
Christmases ago. We must find it.” He managed to herd the rest of the guests
back into the drawing room, ostensibly to help him look. When Julianna turned
to follow, Alasdair gripped her arm and pulled her out the door and into the
hall. He pressed her against the wall off to the side, out of view of the
drawing room’s occupants, partially hidden by the half-open door.

“Alasdair,”
she hissed, peering over at the door. “What are you doing?”

He’d
meant to interrogate her sternly. Instead he silenced her with his mouth. Her
arms flew around his neck and held him tightly and they kissed as if they’d
perish without the taste of each other’s lips. He reluctantly pulled back when
he realized they were getting carried away, but he kept raining kisses on her
cheeks and jaw. “How long have we been apart?”

“Less
than a day,” she whispered breathlessly.

“It
seemed like a year,” he told her, drawn back to her warm lips. She sighed her
agreement into his mouth.

“I’ve
waited so long for you, Alasdair,” she murmured a moment later, as he savored
the taste of the soft, delicate patch of skin just behind her ear.

He
froze, his chest pressed against hers, their legs tangled, the taste of her in
his mouth, her scent a brand upon him. He knew what she meant—she’d
waited for him to notice her even before their night together. “I was a fool,”
he told her. “And now I am double the fool, because I will make any excuse to
see you, touch you, hold you.” He tightened his arms around her.

“Come
to me tonight,” she whispered with desperation. “Please.”

He
lifted her slightly and kissed her again. “I can’t,” he said against her lips
with very real regret. Accepting the baroness’s dinner invitation was an
important step in his plan to woo Julianna. Now they could claim an established
acquaintance when he came to call on her, allowing them to avoid uncomfortable
questions about how their attraction had developed. He wasn’t going to put his
respectable courtship at risk.

“You
must promise me not to do something foolish, Julianna,” he demanded. “Please don’t
try to get the pearl back.”

“Oh,
Alasdair,” she murmured, kissing his ear. But he wasn’t satisfied. It wasn’t a
promise.

“Promise
me,” he said, pulling back so that he could look at her. “Tell me how to find your
friend Wiley. I must have him if I am to get in to see this Blackman fellow.”

She
paled and trembled in his arms. “You know about Wiley and Blackman?” she
whispered.

“Yes.
And I’ve got to get in to see Blackman. I’ve got to get the pearl back. It’s
been in my family for generations. I can’t live with the loss, I won’t. It
means too much.” When she stayed silent, he let some of his anger and
frustration show. “Don’t you want me to get the pearl back? Why are you
protecting Wiley?”

“Promise
me you won’t go to see Blackman, Alasdair,” she entreated, her face drawn and
worried. “He threatened dreadful things if I was to tell anyone about our
transaction.”

“No,”
he said, more sharply than he had intended, but she was acting foolishly. She
struggled to get out of his arms. “You must promise me, Juli, that—”

“Put
her down,” a deep, angry voice said over his shoulder.

Alasdair
let her go and turned, trying to shield her from discovery. But it was only
Lyttle. “Go away,” Alasdair said, irritated.

“Come
here, Miss Harte,” Lyttle said, holding his hand out to Julianna.

“It’s
all right, Mr. Lyttle,” Julianna said softly, her hands resting warmly against
Alasdair’s back. “He has not done anything to me that I did not invite.”

Lyttle
dropped his hand with a sigh. “If he’s got you in some coil or other, call on
me,” he said wearily. He held out a card and Julianna took it, since it was the
polite thing to do.

“A
‘coil’?” Alasdair demanded as quietly as his anger would allow. “What does that
mean? I am not the irresponsible one here, Lyttle.”

Lyttle
had the grace to blush. “It was an accident.”

“What
was an accident?” Julianna asked.

Before
they could answer, Hil’s voice came loudly from the drawing room door. “I
believe both Sharp and Lyttle are out here with Miss Harte.”

Suddenly
Julianna was falling into Alasdair’s arms and he had only an instant to catch
her as Lyttle reached out to help, too, grabbing her flailing hand. It happened
so fast that Alasdair wasn’t fully prepared for an armful of stumbling woman.

“My
shoe!” Julianna cried out. “Oh, I’ve lost my shoe.” And when Alasdair looked
down, sure enough, there was her shoe lying on its side. “Thank you so much,
Mr. Sharp, Mr. Lyttle. I might have fallen down the steps had you not caught
me.” Well, that was reaching a bit since the stairs were behind Lyttle, but no
one else seemed to realize that. “I am so terribly clumsy tonight,” Julianna
said apologetically as she stepped back into her shoe.

“Of
course,” Lyttle said with no inflection in his voice. “If I can be of further
service, please let me know.”

“Why
is it, Mr. Sharp,” Mr. Harte said with ill-concealed suspicion, “that my
daughter seems to fall whenever she is with you? First at Sir Hilary’s, and now
again tonight.”

“Thank
heavens Alasdair is quite good at catching falling ladies, Mr. Harte,” Hil
observed with more than a trace of humor. “And Miss Harte’s shoe was far easier
to find than my watch,” he continued. “How on earth it ended up under the sofa
and behind the curtain I shall never know.” He shook his head as if in wonder.
“I am forever finding lost things in the strangest places.”

“Yes,
aren’t you?” Alasdair agreed, as Julianna led them all down the stairs.

Chapter Seventeen

The
next morning Julianna sat across from Mr. Harte and Lady Linville in the family
parlor.

“So
you see, Papa”—Julianna hesitated a moment—“Stepmother, I seem to
have gotten in over my head with the foundling home.”

The
baroness looked taken aback for a moment at Julianna’s use of the familiar form
of address, but she seemed quite pleased. Her father did not look pleased at
all.

“Juli-anna,”
he said, her name stretched out into two distinct syllables. “How did you
expect to come up with the money to pay the rent? Why did you not come to us
before this?”

Julianna
licked her lips nervously. This was the tricky part. She’d always had trouble
getting a lie past her father. She had decided not to tell them about the
pearl. Given Papa’s past, any association with a stolen heirloom pearl could
prove disastrous. And now there was the baroness to consider. What if her
father was seen going to visit Blackman? What if people assumed he was back at
his old trade, and the theft was attributed to him? It was true that he had not
been discovered in all the years that he’d successfully practiced his trade,
but that was no guarantee that he wouldn’t be unmasked now. It would surely
damage the baroness’s reputation, and Julianna would not like to cause her new
stepmother pain or humiliation.

 
Julianna had taken to watching her father
and the baroness together recently and she could see that they made each other
happy. Her father had waited a very long time to be happy again. She wasn’t
willing to be the one to ruin that for him after all he’d done for her.

The
baroness reached over and set a hand on top of her husband’s. “Mr. Harte, I
believe that is precisely the problem. Julianna has no idea where to go for
funds.” She looked at Julianna. “Isn’t that so, my dear?”

She
nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Relieved that she had managed to avoid her father’s
question, she smiled tentatively at her stepmother.

 
“If you expect us to help, Julianna, then
some changes must be made.”

This
time Mr. Harte nodded. “Absolutely. You cannot continue to work with those
children. Their parentage is a stain upon your reputation and it does not
reflect well upon your stepmother.”

Lady
Linville turned to him with wide eyes. “What?”

Without
registering the tone of her voice, Mr. Harte patted his wife’s arm
reassuringly. “Never fear, my dear. I know how upset you’ve been at Julianna’s
insistence on working with those poor children.” He turned to Julianna. “Surely
there are more suitable charities for a young lady, as I mentioned last week.”

“Mr.
Harte,” the baroness’s icy voice rang out in the room. Julianna had often noted
that she really did have a rather imposing voice for such a small woman. “I can
think of no more deserving charity than one that serves the needs of ‘those
poor children.’ It is not the charitable work Julianna does that I have
objected to in the past. It is the location of the home and her insistence on
doing much of the work by herself, some of which is unsuitable for an unmarried
young lady.” She looked at him with an injured expression. “I cannot believe,
sir, that you thought me capable of such petty objections.”

Mr.
Harte looked astounded and then chagrined. He grabbed the baroness’s hand and
held it in both of his. “My dear, I am sorry. I was wrong to assume that that
was your objection. I should have listened more carefully.” He kissed her hand.
“I should have known, Miranda, that you would feel sympathy for the children.”
He shook his head, truly contrite. “I am sorry.”

She
wrapped both her hands around his. “No, my dear, I am sorry for not making my
objections clearer. I know that I can be cool at times, and that tendency often
hides my true feelings. As you know, I am working on it.” She smiled tenderly
at him, and Julianna was forcefully reminded that they were still in the first
flush of their marriage. Still newly wedded and freshly bedded. She blushed as
the old saying ran through her head. This was her
father
, for heaven’s sake.

Noticing
Julianna’s embarrassment, Lady Linville coughed and pulled her hands away and
smoothed out her skirt while Mr. Harte watched her with a besotted grin on his
face. Julianna had trouble believing that she had ever thought their
relationship a marriage of convenience. Her father was clearly in love. How
could she have missed it?

“Julianna,
we shall be glad to assist you in finding new lodgings for the home, and a
reliable couple to help Mrs. Eden handle the day-to-day affairs. I believe
having a man around the home regularly should be the first safety measure
implemented. Don’t you agree? And I will be happy to sponsor you and help you
seek patrons for the home. But you must move the children to a safer area,
please?” The baroness was actually asking, not ordering. Julianna realized that
Mr. Wainwright was correct. When one needed help, all one had to do was ask.
Amazing. Whoever would have thought such a thing?

Julianna
smiled with relief. “Of course, Stepmother. Where I am safe, the children are
safe. I am going to do things differently this time. This time I shall do them
right.”