Sabrina, who’d gone dead white, cleared her throat. “I assume that popper refers to the pistol shoved against my spine.”
Graeme took a cautious step closer. She was only ten feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. While he was very fast, he wasn’t faster than a goddamned bullet. Sweat prickled under his collar. If anything happened to her . . .
“You’ll be fine as soon as you hand over them pearls,” the thief said. When he shot a quick glance down the stairs, Graeme shuffled another step forward.
“But these were my mother’s,” Sabrina protested. “They’re not worth much at all, but they have sentimental value.”
“As much as your bloody life?” the bastard snapped. “Now take ’em off before I throttle you with ’em.”
“Harm a hair on her head, and you’re a dead man,” Graeme gritted out.
When Sabrina jumped again, the man grinned. “I’m shaking in me boots, I am. Now take them off, silly bitch, or I will hurt you.”
Her gaze latched desperately onto Graeme’s. He locked his gaze onto hers, trying to radiate calm. “Do as he says, lass. Please.”
Her elegant jaw clenched, she reached up to unhook her necklace. Then she grimly stripped off matching bracelets from her wrist.
“Hand ’em over your shoulder,” the thief ordered.
After she complied, he jerked his chin at Graeme. “Come closer. Slow like.”
Frowning, Graeme took a few cautious steps forward.
“Closer.”
What the hell?
The thief gave Sabrina a mighty shove, pitching her straight into Graeme. Her foot tangled around his ankle, and they went down to the floor. He landed hard on his back, with Sabrina on his chest. Her hip connected forcefully with his groin.
Pain sucked the air from his lungs. His brain shrieked at him to get up and go after the thief, who was pelting down the stairs. His body, however, refused to comply.
Sabrina pushed up, her hipbone pressing harder into his beleaguered cock.
“Argh. Stop moving,” he yelped.
“That villain stole my pearls.” She started to scramble up, as if prepared to chase after the thief.
Graeme shot out a hand to grab her. “He’s got a gun, you henwit.”
She glared at him through her coiffure, now listing over one eye. Impatiently, she shoved the bedraggled knot to the side.
“I remember. It was pressed into my spine.”
He sat up, fighting the pain. “Och, lass. You’re worth more than any jewels.”
Her outraged expression suddenly crumpled. “But those were my mother’s pearls. Father gave them to her,” she said in a forlorn voice.
“I’m sorry—”
Aden strode round the bend in the corridor. “Graeme, what the hell is Lady Sabrina doing on the floor?”
“We were accosted by a thief,” she said. “He just absconded with my pearls.”
“He went down the stairs,” Graeme said.
Aden cursed. “Get Sabrina back to the box, and stay with her.” Then he disappeared down the stairs.
Sabrina, now on her feet, peered down at Graeme. “Are you hurt?”
“Do you recall when your hip connected with my body, perchance?”
She grimaced. “I suppose I did fall rather hard. I’m so sorry.”
He breathed out, willing the pain to fade. “Not your fault. Just give me a few more seconds, all right?”
“Perhaps we should send for a doctor?”
“Lass, there’s nothing a sawbones can do about this particular problem.”
She blinked, then turned a bright pink. “I’m exceptionally sorry.”
“Not to worry.”
As he carefully hoisted himself up, Chloe and Vivien came rushing up the staircase.
“Aden said you needed help,” Vivien said. “What’s wrong?”
“I was robbed,” Sabrina dolefully replied. “A terrible man took my mother’s pearls.”
Chloe folded her into a comforting hug. “That’s awful. Are you all right?”
“I’m unharmed.”
Vivien leveled a stern look at Graeme. “And you just let this person run off with Sabrina’s jewels?”
He glared right back. “He had a bloody pistol on her, Vivien.”
“There was really nothing Mr. Kendrick could do,” Sabrina explained. “The villain came right up behind me out of the blue, with his awful pistol.”
“And I was a good ten feet away, unfortunately.” He grimaced but finally managed to straighten up.
“Graeme, are you injured?” Chloe asked.
“Mr. Kendrick hurt himself when he fell on the floor,” Sabrina explained.
Vivien frowned. “That sounds quite unhelpful of you, Graeme.”
“I didn’t just happen to fall. Lady Sabrina tripped me.”
“Not on purpose,” she protested.
“You should not have been wandering about unescorted.” Now that she was safe, his frustration—and the remnants of his gut-wrenching fear for her—had resurfaced.
“He has a point, dearest,” Vivien said. “Theaters can be a trifle dodgy.”
“I wasn’t wandering. I was following Mr. Kendrick.”
Chloe, who was trying to repair Sabrina’s hair, raised her eyebrows. “Also not very appropriate. Dear girl, please stand still while I fix your coiffure.”
“Why were you following me?” Graeme couldn’t help asking.
She wrinkled her nose. “Because I wanted to apologize for the other night, when I was rather beastly to you.”
“Oh. Well, no harm done, lass.” Then he mentally grimaced at his idiotic response.
Vivien looked ready to laugh, but a swell of voices had her glancing toward the stairwell. “The interval is over.”
Chloe started to usher Sabrina toward their box. “Coming, Graeme?”
Sabrina glanced over her shoulder. “Aden did say you were to stay with me, Mr. Kendrick.”
“For all the damn good it will do,” he muttered. The thief was probably long gone by now.
He stalked behind them down the corridor to their box.
Sabrina hesitated before going in. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to my father.”
“Don’t say anything. Maybe he won’t notice,” Graeme said.
She shot him an incredulous look.
“I’ll explain,” Chloe said. “We don’t want to worry poor Lord Musgrave any more than we have to.”
Dominic suddenly opened the door from the inside. His gaze flickered over their little group, snagging momentarily on Sabrina’s bare throat. He let out an exasperated sigh.
“Really?” he said to Graeme.
“It’s rather complicated, dear,” Chloe said.
“It always is when a Kendrick is involved.”
Dominic waved them into the box, reserving a stern look for Graeme.
Graeme didn’t blame him. Dominic, the former chief of the spy service, and Aden had specifically entrusted this case to Graeme, and he’d made a cock-up of it from the beginning.
Lord Musgrave starched up when he saw Graeme. “Sabrina, I do hope you haven’t been dallying in the saloon with strangers.”
“Indeed, no,” Chloe said. “Sabrina was with me.”
“I simply happened to, um, run into Mr. Kendrick on the way back to the box,” Sabrina explained.
“That’s right,” Graeme said. “I thought I’d stop in to pay my regards to you and Sir Dominic. I hope you’re well, my lord. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Lord Musgrave sniffed and made a point of ignoring him. Staring at his daughter, he blinked, and his pursed lips sagged open. “Sabrina, where is your necklace?”
She flushed. “Oh, ah, the clasp was catching in my hair, so I took it off.”
Her father’s gaze trailed down to her gloved wrists, now stripped of their matching bracelets. His eyes widened in horror. “Your bracelets are gone!”
She sat next to him and took his hand. “There was a l
ittle incident, Father, but I’m fine. There’s no need to be concerned.”
“Sabrina, where are your mother’s pearls?” Lord Musgrave asked rather loudly.
His daughter winced. “Well, you see . . .”
“Lady Sabrina had a regrettable encounter with a thief,” Sir Dominic calmly interjected. “Distressing, of course, but she is entirely unharmed, which is obviously the most important thing.”
Musgrave looked ready to topple into a dramatic swoon. “Those were your dear mother’s pearls, Sabrina. How could you lose them like that?”
When the poor lass bit her lip, looking ashamed, Graeme’s barely restrained patience evaporated. “She didn’t do anything wrong, my lord. She was robbed.”
Lord Musgrave rounded on him. “And did you witness this robbery, sir?”
Sabrina gave Graeme a frantic little shake of the head.
Och, she was trying to protect him, but the hell with that. Her father was a querulous old ninny, and he had no business biting her nose off.
“I did, sir. There was nothing your daughter could have done to prevent it.”
Musgrave practically vibrated with aristocratic outrage. “And there was nothing you could do?”
“He tried, Father. It was an impossible situation,” Sabrina quickly said.
Tut-tutting, Musgrave reached for his cane. “I will never recover from this, Sabrina. We must return home, immediately.”
She winced. “Father, I’m so—”
“I knew we should never have come tonight.” Musgrave threw an angry glance at Graeme. “Full of riffraff, did I not say?”
Chloe gave Sabrina a gentle embrace. “Perhaps it’s best if you take your father home, my dear.”
“I’m so very sorry,” Sabrina forlornly said to Graeme when Chloe released her.
He had to repress the instinct to fold her into his arms and cuddle her. “Don’t fash yourself, my lady. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Indeed not,” Dominic said. “And please know that I will do everything possible to recover your pearls.”
“I should hope so, Sir Dominic,” Lord Musgrave said as he took his daughter’s arm. “You can be sure the king will hear about this. He will be most displeased.”
Dominic tactfully ignored the annoying comment. “Let me escort you downstairs.”
“I would hardly be surprised if we were murdered on the way out to the carriage,” Musgrave fussed.
“You needn’t worry.” Dominic threw Graeme a sardonic glance. “The situation is now well in hand.”
No thanks to you was what that glance silently conveyed.
Dominic solicitously escorted Lord Musgrave out of the box, Sabrina trailing behind. Before she disappeared, she looked over her shoulder at Graeme and mouthed I’m sorry. Regret darkened her peacock-blue gaze, probably for once more cocking up his mission.
But he thought he saw something more, too, and it mirrored the emotion bumping around in his chest. It was an odd kind of sadness, because he was damn sure he would never see Lady Sabrina Bell again. After tonight’s debacle, her father wouldn’t let her anywhere near him.
Not that it mattered, he supposed.
Chloe sank into her chair. “That went well.”
“Ugh, dreadful.” Vivien flopped dramatically into an empty seat. “Poor Sabrina. I don’t mean to be rude, but her father is an unbelievable fusspot.”
“He’s a complete chucklehead, if you ask me,” Graeme said.
“No one asked you,” Dominic said as he stalked into the box. He took the seat next to his wife and eyed Graeme with disfavor. “While Lord Musgrave can sometimes be a difficult man, his concerns were quite justified. His daughter was placed in harm’s way, and that was our failure.”
There were few people who could intimidate Graeme. His brother, Nick, was certainly one, as was Aden. But neither had a patch on Dominic Hunter in that regard. Dominic’s disapproval made Graeme want to slink out of the box and disappear into a deep hole, preferably on the other side of the world.
Suddenly weary from too many nights prowling about London trying to solve this bloody case, Graeme dropped into the chair next to Vivien. It creaked ominously under his weight.
“Try not to break the chair, dear,” Vivien said, almost automatically.
“He’ll be lucky if Aden doesn’t break it over his head,” Dominic said. “This was not how either of us expected the evening to conclude.”
“Nor did I,” Graeme muttered.
He’d fully expected the evening to end in victory. The opposite had occurred, thanks once again, to Sabrina’s inadvertent and disastrous timing. Fortunately, the lass had kept her head, responding with courage and even a bit of defiance. Sabrina frustrated the hell out of him, but she was brave, funny, and kind, and he should have done a better job of protecting her.
“Graeme feels bad enough,” Chloe said, reaching forward to pat him on the shoulder. “And I’m certain Sabrina doesn’t blame you at all, dear boy.”
“I should hope not, since she’s the one who was wandering about alone.” He shook his head. “That was daft.”
Vivien winced. “My fault, I’m afraid. I distracted Chloe and left Sabrina on her own. I do wish she’d waited for us.”
“Yes, that was quite odd of her,” Dominic said.
“I have an idea why she wandered off,” Chloe remarked in an amused tone.
“It doesn’t matter,” Graeme firmly replied, “except to say she has a knack for stumbling into unfortunate situations. Needs a damn keeper, she does.”
Vivien flashed him a cheeky grin. “Any ideas on who might like to take on the position, laddie boy?”
“No.”
Aden joined them, interrupting the embarrassing discussion. He hooked an empty chair from the corner and pulled it over to sit next to Vivien.
“Anything?” Dominic asked.
“I almost caught the bounder out front before he dodged between two carriages.” Aden snorted. “One all but knocked me flat on my arse.”
Vivien squeaked and clutched his sleeve. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, love. Just annoyed.”
“Better annoyed than dead,” she scolded. “You’re not supposed to take risks like that anymore. That’s why you have Graeme.”
“Exactly,” Graeme said. “Unfortunately, I was ordered to escort Lady Sabrina back to her box.”
“Aden probably wished to avoid Lord Musgrave’s wrath,” Chloe said with a twinkle.
“Lucky bastard,” Graeme muttered.
Aden actually grimaced in sympathy. “That bad?”
“Worse, and he all but tore a strip off his daughter. The poor girl was already upset. She didn’t need that old pinhead barking at her.”
“Lord Musgrave is devoted to Sabrina,” Vivien said, “but he is a trial, one must admit. I’ve always admired her patience with him.”
“Too much patience, I’d say,” Graeme replied. “She needs to stand up to him, or he’ll run her ragged.”
Chloe smiled at him. “That is a very astute observation, dear boy.”
“I believe we are wandering away from the point,” Dominic observed. “Which is that we have another failure on our hands.”
“And still not a clue how to correct it.” Graeme was ready to snarl with frustration.
Aden shook his head. “Not true, actually. I recognized the lout.”
Graeme jerked upright. “Who is he?”
“He goes by the name of Russell. I first encountered him when he was with the Neale gang, out of Bethnal Green. They were running a similar rig back then, but on a smaller scale.”
Graeme frowned. “The Neale gang? Everything up to this point suggested Covent Garden, not Bethnal Green.”
“They’ve obviously expanded their territory.” Dominic arched an eyebrow at Aden. “Anything else?”
“Russell had a partner working with him. Cooper was stationed in the lobby, and apparently saw Russell hand something off to a young woman who slipped out to
the street.”
“Sabrina’s pearls,” Graeme said.
“One imagines. Cooper told one of the Runners that he would follow the young woman. Since he has yet to return, I’m fairly confident he’ll be able to track her to wherever she’s headed.”
Graeme felt a new energy surge through his muscles. If he could recover Sabrina’s pearls . . .
“So, once Cooper gets back, we’ll need to start organizing a raid,” he said.
“I will organize the raid,” Aden said. “You’re taking on a new assignment.”
Graeme glared at his superior. “The bloody hell I will.”
“Language, dear,” Chloe said.
Graeme barely registered the reprimand. “Aden, I’ve been on this since the beginning, and I want to be there at the end. I know I’ve not done the best job of it—”
Aden held up a hand. “You’ve done excellent work on a difficult case, but we’ve now got it. I’ll organize with Bow Street to wrap it up.”
“But—”
“As Aden said, we’ve got another mission for you,” Dominic cut in. “One that is significantly more important than recovering some jewels.”
“Tell that to Lady Sabrina,” Graeme retorted.
Dominic’s gaze turned as cold as the North Sea in January. Graeme mentally cursed. He knew that look. The argument was over.
“All right,” he conceded. “What’s so bloody important about this new mission?”
Aden shot a quick glance around at the neighboring boxes. The performance had resumed a few minutes ago, with a dramatic presentation of the battle of Troy. It was ridiculous and noisy, and would certainly make it impossible for anyone to overhear the discussion.
“I think it’s safe to talk,” Graeme dryly commented.
Dominic huffed out a laugh, finally unbending. “Indeed. But this situation requires a great deal of care. It involves the king.”
Ah. Now, that was interesting. Graeme liked interesting.
“You may or may not be aware,” Aden said, “that my esteemed parent has become quite obsessed with your beloved Highlands.”
Graeme snorted. “He’s not the only one, thanks to Walter Scott and his blasted poetry.”
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