The Clever Strumpet

by Farmer, Merry

  Everything, Caro answered for herself. “You are right,” she said aloud, pressing a hand over her stomach to quell the butterflies that rose up at her lie. “I should check on the Runners,” she added, turning and fleeing from the room.

  The rest of the school was more of a reflection of her inner turmoil than the confidence Felicity and Eliza exhibited, for in the last eight hours, the school had transformed. It was no longer simply a disreputable holding pen for wayward young ladies, it was a staging ground for what an outside observer would have viewed as the largest operation the Bow Street Runners had ever undertaken.

  “Oh, my lady,” Flora rushed up to Caro as she descended the stairs to the chaotic ground floor. She could already hear the chatter of half a dozen young ladies and twice as many men coming from the dining room.

  “Has Lord Herrington arrived yet?” Caro asked before Flora could say whatever was clearly worrying her.

  “No, my lady,” Flora said. “But the Runners are more than enough. They’ll eat us out of house and home, they will.”

  “The Runners need to be well-fed before we begin our evening’s task,” Caro said with a sigh. Though she suspected it would take a great deal of money and careful purchasing to restock the school’s larders.

  “Yes, my lady,” Flora said, still distressed. She continued to follow Caro as she headed toward the dining room, adding, “I fear more than a few of the girls will lose their virtue tonight if they’re not careful.”

  As soon as Caro turned the corner into the dining room, she saw exactly what Flora meant. At least a dozen Runners were seated at the long tables on either side of the dining room. Most were dressed in plain clothes and would be standing ready outside the East India Company’s house during the party until they were called upon. A few were dressed elaborately enough to attend the party, though, including Mr. Gibbon, the man Nigel had introduced as his superior. The Runners were gobbling up what looked like a small feast spread across the tables and trying to pay attention as Mr. Gibbon marched up and down the aisles between the tables reminding his men of their assignments.

  But the young ladies of the school were making his task hard. Caro paused inside the doorway to the room, her eyes going wide. It was as though none of the ladies had ever seen a man before. Some of her young friends sat on the benches beside the Runners, gazing adoringly up at them as they ate or stroking their arms to feel their muscles. A few had engaged some of the gentlemen in lively conversation, which happened to involve running their fingers through the gentlemen’s hair or tracing the outline of their ears. In the far corner of the room, one of the girls sat astride a Runner’s lap, their mouths merged in a shocking kiss. Judging by the way the Runner’s hands moved to bunch up the young lady’s skirts, Flora was dead right about the possibility of virtue being imminently lost.

  “Stop that,” Mr. Gibbon shouted, noticing the amorous couple just as Caro did. “Pull yourself together, man.”

  He marched down one side of the room as Caro tore down the other. They reached the couple just as the Runner came to his senses and lifted the young lady off his lap. Caro nearly laughed to discover the lady to be none other than Miss Warren, the only one of Miss Dobson’s favorites who had stayed at the school.

  “Really, Miss Warren?” Caro asked, trying her best not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

  Miss Warren glared at her. “You shouldn’t be the only one to enjoy yourself. If we’re all damned, we might as well be damned with pleasure.”

  Caro raised an eyebrow, not at Miss Warren’s sass, but because she had a fair point. The young lady didn’t stay around to discuss it, however. She stomped off, her head held high.

  “Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to stage our operations from the school,” Mr. Gibbon said.

  Caro turned to agree with him to find that he was speaking to Nigel Kent, not her.

  “It’s a damn sight better than staging operations from the square,” Nigel replied. “Begging your pardon, Lady Caroline,” he said with an apologetic bow for his language.

  He could have sworn like a sailor at her for all Caro was concerned. If Nigel was there, it meant Rebecca was as well. She left the gentlemen to their planning and twisted to search the room for Rebecca.

  The moment she spotted Rebecca—and Jo as well—standing in the doorway, looking flabbergasted at the pandemonium that reigned in the room, Caro picked up her skirts and ran to greet them.

  “I have never been gladder to see friends in all my life,” she said with emotion from the bottom of her heart, hugging Rebecca and Jo in turn.

  “Tonight we catch the diamond thief,” Rebecca said excitedly. “We would not have missed this for anything.”

  “Certainly not,” Jo agreed, squeezing Caro’s hand. “I am only sad that we cannot show ourselves at the party.”

  “But we will be watching from the secret passageway,” Rebecca whispered, glancing around. “Nigel says we’re not to breathe a word about that to anyone, not even Mr. Gibbon, though.”

  “Saif Khan doesn’t want anyone more than necessary knowing about the passages,” Caro agreed in a whisper, gesturing for her friends to walk with her into the hall where they could speak more freely.

  “I still cannot believe Saif Khan is a Runner,” Jo said. “That is to say, we saw him engaged in—” she swallowed, “—activity.”

  “Even Runners have needs,” Caro said, then shook her head. She had no interest in discussing Saif Khan’s proclivities when so much was about to happen. “We will only have a limited amount of time tonight. If Mr. Newman catches wind that—”

  She stopped as the front door opened and Rufus stepped through. Caro could see in an instant something was wrong. He should have been excited, but a dark sort of melancholy hung over him like a raincloud. It could only mean one thing.

  She flew down the hall to meet him, but instead of flinging herself into his arms as she wanted to, she stopped just in front of him, her whole body vibrating with dread, and asked, “Did you propose to Lady Malvis?”

  “No,” Rufus said, his shoulders dropping.

  Relief like nothing Caro had ever felt washed through her, even though she could tell there was more to the story. She grabbed Rufus’s hand and led him into the nearest classroom, shutting the door. “Tell me what happened,” she demanded.

  Rufus pushed a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up awkwardly, and blew out a breath. “Father was not pleased when I returned home yesterday without proposing,” he said, the look in his eyes telling Caro he was understating the matter. “We rowed fiercely. And we rowed again just now, before he allowed me to leave the house.”

  “You’re a grown man,” Caro said, crossing her arms with a scowl. “He has no right to confine you to the house.”

  Rufus let out a wry laugh. “Tell that to Father.” He shook his head. “I explained everything to him, and I mean everything, about the two of us.”

  Caro gulped before she could steady herself. “And what did he say?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  Rufus shrugged. “He said the same as he said the other day, when he saw you in the carriage. He was sorry, but the family comes first.”

  Caro’s gut burned hot with the injustice of it all.

  “He does understand, I think,” Rufus went on, stepping forward to take her hands. “The man is not made of stone. He said he would look the other way and direct others to do so as well if we wish to continue our relationship.”

  “How magnanimous of him,” Caro grumbled, her jaw tense. Although she had to admit that there was a fair degree of generosity in Lord Herrington’s stance. The simple fact that men had kept women outside of their marriages since the dawn of time did not mean that the practice was spoken of or approved of in polite society. It was quite liberal of Rufus’s father to acknowledge love in the face of duty.

  “Even if he had sworn to disown me for keeping you,” Rufus said, pulling her into his embrace, “I would have told him to go to hell. I may be doo
med to do my duty for my family, but I love you, Caro. More than I will ever love any woman.”

  “And I love you,” Caro said, her heart melting even as it threatened to break. She brushed her hand over the side of his face. “More than you can know.”

  “Say you’ll be mine in whatever way is possible for us,” he went on. “Say you’ll be my mistress, my one true love. Let me love you, adore you, and fill you with babies on a regular basis, or at least try to.” The spark of mischief was back in his eyes.

  Seeing that spark in him reignited it in her. “Is that what you want?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. “A garden of babies.”

  “With my red hair and your cleverness,” he said, then tugged her close and kissed her hard.

  Caro’s confidence returned inch by liquid inch as their kiss deepened. The fire in her belly roared to life once more, heating her and sending the delicious ache she loved so much pulsing through her sex. That feeling of arousal increased as he scooped a hand into her low-cut bodice to fondle her breast and bring her nipple to hardness in a gesture that had become so familiar to her. It reminded her of her plans, of the work she had been so tirelessly engaged in to ensure that the two of them could be together. It would all come to fruition tonight. All she had to do was keep her wits about her and remember the true goal of the evening.

  “You’re not married yet,” she reminded him, panting, as they broke apart. “And you won’t ever be married to Lady Malvis if I have anything to do with it.”

  “But, darling, her wealth—”

  Caro shook her head and pressed a finger to his kiss-swollen lips. “As you said, I’m clever.” Her grin grew as the fire of determination burned hotly inside of her once more. “Clever young ladies get what they want, one way or another. Never doubt for a moment that I want you, or that I can have you.”

  He studied her with glittering fire in his eyes. “If you can produce a miracle of love, I will never doubt anything you say for the rest of our lives.”

  A knock sounded at the door, interrupting the beauty of the moment.

  “You’re needed in the dining room,” Nigel’s voice sounded from the hall.

  “We’ll be there directly,” Rufus answered. He met Caro’s eyes once more. “So much is at stake tonight.”

  “We will not fail,” Caro told him.

  That determination stayed with her as the two of them left the classroom and went to join the others. The dining room had been restored to a semblance of order, although the young ladies of the school still sat interspersed with the Runners and most continued to gaze at their companions in adoration. Felicity and Eliza had come down from their preparations and stood with Rebecca and Jo just inside the dining room door, along with Nigel and Felix. Caro and Rufus joined them.

  “This will be a delicate operation,” Mr. Gibbon said from the front of the room, “and speed is of the essence. We know that the Chandramukhi Diamond is still somewhere within the East India Company’s house. We know that Wallace Newman will try to sell it to Lord Herrington tonight and that Miss Henrietta Dobson may be an accomplice in that sale. It is imperative that we catch all three of them in the act so that they can be arrested and charged.”

  He shifted his stance to look at the rows of Runners still finishing up their supper. “Men, I want you stationed outside the house, monitoring everyone who comes in and, more importantly, who goes out. If anyone leaves under suspicious circumstances, I want you to tail them until you are convinced of their innocence.”

  He stood taller and glanced to the back of the room, where Caro and Rufus and the others stood. “Those of you who will attend the party, keep your eyes open, but blend in. We need to track every move our suspects make, but we need to find that diamond as well. Khan is aware of what we are up to. Saif will coordinate with him.” He nodded to Saif, who stood at the edge of Caro’s group of friends. Saif nodded in return.

  “Ladies,” Mr. Gibbon addressed the young ladies of the school last of all. “There is a fair chance that Miss Dobson may try to hide in the school or make her presence known here in some way if her part of tonight’s deal goes awry. I am relying on you to catch her and keep her here if that is the case.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the young ladies answered from the front. “We’ll do anything for you.”

  “Yes, we will.” Her statement echoed around the room.

  Mr. Gibbon turned a deep shade of red and cleared his throat, as though the young ladies had offered something else entirely. He glanced to Nigel at the back of the room with a hint of desperation, then squared his shoulders and nodded.

  “Good,” he said at last. “Let’s be about our business, then.”

  Chapter 9

  Rufus had promised to believe Caro and to trust her in all things, but as they made their way around the crowded, noisy ballroom in the East India Company’s house, he was convinced that some things were very much easier said than done.

  “Lord Herrington, may I offer my heartfelt congratulations,” an inebriated Lord Whitlock said as he leapt away from his companions to stop Rufus and Caro.

  Rufus liked Whitlock. He’d spent many a raucous evening in the dark-haired young viscount’s company, but with so much on the line, he didn’t have time to play any of Whitlock’s games.

  “Congratulations for what, sir?” he asked, attempting to shield Caro when Whitlock’s hazy-eyed gaze fell heavily on her mostly-exposed breasts.

  “On your new leg shackle,” Whitlock said, righting himself enough to slap Rufus’s back. “I hear Lady Malvis is a valuable catch.”

  Rufus’s nerves bristled. “It’s not a done deal yet,” he said, prying himself away from Whitlock once more.

  “But you’re in the same boat as the rest of us, no?” Whitlock asked.

  “Boat, sir?”

  “You’re manning the rigging along with the rest of us who are forced to marry for means. It’s perfectly understandable.” Whitlock managed to pull himself straight enough almost to look sober. “It’ll be my turn at the gallows next.”

  “You can have Lady Malvis,” Rufus said in as joking a tone as he could manage. He was already scanning the room, searching for a spot where he and Caro could stand to spot Newman and Hazelton the moment either arrived.

  “Truly?” Whitlock asked, looking as though he would consider it. “She’s quite a prize. But perhaps you think you’ve got a better prize?” He smiled groggily at Caro, or rather, her breasts.

  “Lord Herrington will end up with a prize that no one expects,” Caro said, hooking her arm through Rufus’s and dragging him deeper into the room.

  Rufus would have brushed the encounter off, except that he received three other hearty rounds of congratulations before making it to the side of the dais where the musicians were seated.

  “Are you certain you didn’t propose to Lady Malvis and then forget you did?” Caro asked with a grin that hid a more anxious twist of emotion in her eyes.

  “I swear on my life, I didn’t,” he said with a frown. “But something must have been said somewhere.

  “Ask a woman,” Caro laughed, though it was clear the laughter was for show, as was the way she pressed her body against him and began to fiddle with the buttons of his jacket. “Women always know the business of other women, particularly when it comes to new engagements.”

  She had a firm point. Although from the moment she wrapped her arms around his neck, Rufus would much rather have given his full attention to her. It was laughable how a flirtation that had begun as a way to observe a room full of suspicious people could shift into something so vital to his soul so quickly. A few seconds of inattention wouldn’t compromise their mission too desperately, or so he told himself as he slanted his mouth over Caro’s, kissing her with the full strength of the passion that bloomed in his heart.

  Caro melted against him, her body fitting with his in all the right places. Her mouth was supple and needy, and she kissed him back with as much ardor as he felt. If it were not for the four dozen
or so other people in the room, he would have taken her up against the wall in time to the rhythm of the lively dance the orchestra played.

  As soon as that delicious thought entered his head, a slap on his back jerked him back to reality and away from Caro. He turned to glare at whoever had disturbed their passion only to find Saif grinning at him.

  “You of all people cannot afford distractions, friend,” Saif said, his eyes deadly serious in spite of his jovial expression.

  “I was about to tell him the same thing,” Caro said in an overly cheerful voice, though her eyes also told a different story.

  “I know what I’m about,” Rufus insisted.

  Saif’s expression softened to sympathy. “Bad luck about the engagement, my friend.”

  “There is no engagement,” Rufus told him, more frustrated than ever. “Where is this rumor coming from?”

  “Father heard from Lord Shackleford that Lady Shackleford called on Lady Malvis herself this morning. Apparently your lovely fiancée-to-be was supposed to receive her proposal yesterday, but when she didn’t, she asked her friends to put it about that the deal was done. As a way to speed you along, no doubt.”

  “No doubt,” Rufus growled, on the verge of throwing a fist through the nearest wall.

  Saif slapped his back once more in what might have been an attempt to calm him. “It’s a shame you weren’t able to recover the diamond on your own.”

  “What? Why?” Rufus snapped.

  Saif shrugged. “Father is offering a tremendous reward for its safe return,” he said. “Everyone has been talking about it. Imagine all the things you could do if you found the diamond before the Runners do or before Newman and Hazelton make their move.”

  The devilishness in Saif’s eyes sent an eerie chill through Rufus. Saif was a Runner. He owed his allegiance to the crown. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting that there might be profit in beating the Runners to the punch.