When they reached the back wall of the home, Dominick instinctively pressed Alfie flat against it with one hand so he could not be seen from the windows above while Dominick concentrated on the next step in his plan.
Unlike Alfie's townhouse that had a flat back wall which rose in a sheer, impenetrable cliff face, the back of his cousin’s house was terraced with each floor receding slightly from the one above it. As a result, they could easily climb onto the roof of the ground floor and have plenty of room to work while Dominick found a way to break into the first floor. This presented its own challenges, they would have to walk on cat’s feet on the roof to keep from being heard within, but far better that than having to scramble up and cling to the window ledge while he worked.
He looked back across the yard to the carriage house, then up as best he could towards the windows above. Even if someone was still awake, he and Alfie would be hard to spot. The night was black as pitch, no moon in the sky. If there was just a little fog to muffle the sound of their footsteps, it would be the perfect night for housebreaking.
“Right then,” Dominick whispered, leaning as close to Alfie as he dared. He realised his fingertips were still resting on Alfie’s chest. “Give me a lift up, and when I’ve got the window open I’ll pull you up after me.”
Alfie nodded wordlessly, eyes wide in the dark, then dropped to one knee and interlaced his fingers. Dominick took just a moment to enjoy the sight before putting his foot on Alfie's hands. He counted off a quick three and they moved as one, Dominick stepping up as Alfie pushed. It was so easy that Dominick was almost surprised when he found himself at eye level with the roof of the ground floor, and nearly forgot to take hold. He finished clambering up, less gracefully than he would have liked, and froze. He counted quietly, waiting to see if anyone in the house had heard him and was coming to investigate. After several minutes without any sign of movement in the house, he leaned over the edge and nodded down at Alfie before turning back to the window.
He peered through the glass. The drapes were drawn tightly, so he had no way of knowing which room was which. The other windows along the back would likely be the same, so it was better to just stick with the one he had, rather than traipsing all over the place. He trusted Alfie when he said no one should be on the first floor at all this time of night.
The window itself was simple enough, two sashes, one above the other with several panes of glass in each and a latch where they met in the middle. Since only the bottom half of the window would open when he got it unlocked, it would be a bit of a squeeze for Dominick to get in and not the best for a quick exit, but Alfie would probably be able to dive through like a swan. He chuckled softly at the image as he pulled a long blade from the bag. Too flimsy to be any good in a fight, the thin metal was perfect for bending through tight spaces. He slid it up into the crack between the sashes and closed his eyes to better focus. It was only a second before he felt resistance as it caught the lock.
Easy now, slow and steady. He pushed, wincing when the lock gave a slight creak, then tried again even more slowly. After several agonizing moments, he felt the blade slide through the crack, having pushed the lock completely out of the way. He opened his eyes and smiled. He jiggled the window just a little to see if it would rise, and it did. He turned to go pull Alfie up onto the roof, and nearly screamed.
Alfie was sitting directly behind him, staring over his shoulder with an enormous grin on his face.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dominick hissed.
“Watching you work,” whispered Alfie. “That was amazing, you got it open in no time!”
“Watching me have an apoplexy is more like. How did you even get up here?”
“Like you said, no one was better at climbing.” He nudged Dominick's shoulder with his own. “Hurry up before someone sees us.”
Dominick grumbled under his breath but went silent as he carefully slid the window up, listening for any more creaks that might give the game away, or any noises from within the house that said it already had. He held up his hand, and Alfie sat perfectly still, waiting while Dominick listened. Hearing nothing, he held the sash up and nodded for Alfie to go through. As he’d suspected, Alfie slid in with a lithe grace that suggested he spent every night breaking into the houses of his relatives. He held the window in turn while Dominick climbed through, then propped it open with the small beam laid on the sill for just such a purpose.
From what little Dominick could see, the room appeared to be a library, but from the staleness of the air, it was not one used all that often. He closed the curtains behind him to hide the fact the window was open, and on feel alone, pulled two dark lanterns from his bag and lit them. He handed one to Alfie.
“The study is the first door on the right. If there’s any evidence to be found, it will be in there,” Alfie whispered.
Dominick stopped him before he could open the library door. He was meant to be protecting Alfie after all, and that included protecting him from any crazed housekeepers wielding candlesticks who might be lying in wait. He peeked into the hall, which was thankfully empty, and let out a low exhale.
This was the other part of why he had stopped committing burglaries. The unending tension. The knowledge that at any moment everything might go crashing down and it would mean his death. It was better when he was working with Jimmy and at least knew there was someone watching his back. But after Jimmy had retired to run the pub, Dominick had run a few jobs with less savory crews, and those were enough to make him quit the entire enterprise for good. Give him a good clean fight any day, where he could look danger in the eye rather than waiting for it to stab him in the back.
They crept down the hall into the study, and Dominick risked opening the lantern a little wider to let out more light. Christ, the place was a mess. They would never find anything.
“There’s a safe in that side cabinet,” whispered Alfie. “I’ll search his desk while you work on that.”
Dominick tried everything he knew on the safe. It was an older model, which helped, but safe cracking had never really been his strength. Finally though, it yielded. He hissed at Alfie, who rushed over with bright eyes. Dominick preened under the warmth of his silent praise.
The feeling was short lived however, when the safe opened to reveal nothing more than a bottle of champagne. Dominick grunted in frustration.
“Who keeps their drink in a safe and all their important papers strewn about?” He hissed.
Alfie squeezed his shoulder. “If it helps, that’s a very valuable vintage. Here, I found a locked drawer, come open that for me.”
Dominick went over to the desk with his lockpicks. The wide center drawer in the middle of the desk was the one that locked. Compared to the safe, it was simple and only a matter of seconds before Dominick had it open. He had barely slid it out more than a few inches before he heard Alfie take a sharp breath.
Lying right on top were several sheets of the same paper the blackmail note had been written on.
Alfie reached out with a trembling hand and picked one up. Even by the faint light Dominick could see the same uneven edge of raw pulp of the blackmailer’s letters. The page was blank, but there was already a stamp attached to the back, ready for St. John or his lackey to write his next demands and put it in the post.
Dominick pulled the drawer further out to see what else was inside. Suddenly, the entire bottom of the drawer crashed to the floor with an almighty racket. Dominick swore and jumped back. There had been a false bottom to the drawer and when he’d pulled too far the entire thing had come clattering down.
From deep within the house, he heard several voices raised in alarm.
“Hold this!” Dominick shouted, thrusting the open bag at Alfie. There was no longer any reason to keep quiet. The secret drawer seemed to have been filled with files and letters, as well as small tokens too indistinct to make out in the dark. He scooped as many as he could in the bag, as well as a few of the blank sheets of paper before pushing Alfie t
owards the door. The voices in the house grew louder as the pounding of footsteps descended from the servants’ quarters in the attic.
“Go! Run!”
He pushed Alfie again, who followed Dominick's order immediately and bolted, bag of evidence clutched to his chest. Dominick took one last frantic glance around the room. The lanterns could stay, there was no way to link them to him. His eyes fell on an object near the leg of the desk. One of the trinkets that had fallen out of the drawer, no doubt. There was no reason to go back for it, they had enough evidence, but Dominick did, rushing the few steps and grabbing it up before tearing out the study door.
He heard a shout, and looked back just in time to see the nightcap-clad head of some butler or valet round the corner of the landing as Dominick dashed into the library. He grabbed a chair and braced it under the doorknob. It would buy them a little extra time to get away at least. He turned to the window just in time to see Alfie pull his feet through. He crouched on the roof and beckoned Dominick furiously.
Dominick lunged, and cleared most of the window in one motion, feeling Alfie tug his coat and jerk him through the rest of the way. They skittered over the roof and dropped into the garden, uncaring how much noise they made in their haste to get away. Alfie still had the bag held against his chest with one arm. They cleared the gate of the carriage house just as the commotion from the main building turned to full shouts of alarm.
“This way!” Dominick grabbed Alfie's free arm and yanked, sending them careening pell mell down the alley, boots sliding in the mud as they made their escape.
Behind them, the alarm was being picked up in the streets, but they ran on, Dominick leading Alfie down every side street and alley they came across, until there was no chance of their pursuers catching them. Still they ran, putting as much distance between themselves and St. John’s house as possible. Eventually, the streets started to look familiar, and Dominick recognized them as those he walked every day to Alfie's house.
Alfie twisted in his grip.
“Trust me,” he panted. And Dominick did, without question.
Alfie took the lead, weaving them down side lanes and courtyards Dominick hadn’t even noticed, but Alfie must have known about for years. As they passed one house with a lit gas lamp burning over the door, Dominick risked opening his still clenched hand to see what the gewgaw was that he’d braved the hangman’s noose to go back into the study for.
Glinting dully in the lamplight was his pewter ring.
Chapter 19
Alfie gasped as they crashed through the kitchen door. He had Dominick's bag tightly clasped to his chest with one hand and bodily dragged Dominick through the doorway behind him with the other, kicking it shut and throwing his back against it. He finally unpeeled his stiff fingers from Dominick coat and numbly reached down to turn the lock before sliding to the floor. Dominick was already there, lying on his back in front of the stove, gulping in deep panting breaths. Under other circumstances, Alfie might appreciate the view, but he was currently too busy trying to catch his breath to focus much on it.
“Are you… well?” he eventually wheezed.
Dominick made no verbal response, but raised a hand, before dropping it down next to his head. There was a distinct thunk as his wrist hit the flagstones.
“Ow.” Dominick breathed.
Alfie started to giggle. He didn’t know what it was, whether it was the giddiness of nearly being caught, or the lack of air, or just something about Dominick being too exhausted to even flinch when he hurt himself, but Alfie just couldn’t stop. He laughed until he couldn’t breathe again and that just made it worse.
Dominick rolled his head to look at him. “Shhh!” he hissed.
At that, Alfie fell over, clutching his aching sides. “You shhh!” He hiccupped. “No one… to hear us. Unless… unless someone’s broken in!”
That set Dominick off as well, and they lay there side-by-side, laughing and hushing each other until they had tears in their eyes.
Perhaps it was whatever strange combination of emotions that had set off the laughter, or just the sheer joy of being up to mischief with his old friend again, but Alfie suddenly felt free. It was as if for the last thirteen years he had been a bird so blinded by the splendor of its surroundings that it did not realise it had landed in a gilded cage. And now had been there so long, it had forgotten it used to fly.
But with Dominick back, the door to the cage had been thrown open. Here, on the cold stones of the kitchen floor, in the strange dark hours before dawn, he didn’t have to be the perfect son and consummate aristocrat. He didn’t have to mind his manners or his dress. He didn’t even have to be The Right Honorable Alfred Pennington the Earl of Crawford. He could just be Alfie.
As a weight he hadn't known he carried lifted off his chest, all the things Alfie had tried to keep hidden finally bubbled to the surface. He would be scared and hunted no longer. He was free now, and his freedom made him bold. He would never know if the risk was worth the reward if he never took the risk at all.
With this in mind, Alfie raised himself onto an elbow and before he could think better of it, leaned down and kissed Dominick.
The kiss was light, the barest press of heat, but Alfie’s intentions were unmistakable. He had the fleeting sensation of chapped lips beneath his own, before his new-found courage faltered. He pulled back, feeling a hiccup of breath against his skin that could have been laughter or shock or any number of things.
He flopped back down onto his side. Part of him, the part that had gotten used to the cage, wanted to curl up, turn away, deny the moment ever happened. But the part of him that had been freed was stronger, and he lay there with his hand half-stretched between them, watching Dominick and waiting for his response.
And this time, when Alfie looked at Dominick, Dominick finally looked back. Alfie couldn’t breathe for an entirely new reason as he watched understanding dawn in Dominick's eyes. A slow, delighted smile spread across his face, and he reached out and took Alfie's hand his own. Alfie didn’t hesitate, spreading his fingers so Dominick's interlocked with his.
“We need to celebrate.” Dominick rubbed his thumb along the back of Alfie's knuckles. Alfie felt it like a caress along his spine.
“What exactly are we celebrating?”
“Many things.” Dominick rocked their entwined hands slowly back and forth. “Your first successful burglary. Being alive. Being together.”
Alfie's heart soared. Such sentiments seemed too precious to be spoken while lying on the floor of a darkened kitchen in the middle of the night. But he didn’t care where they were said, a kitchen floor, Buckingham Palace, or the very tops of the Himalayas. As long as it was Dominick saying the words, Alfie would follow wherever he must to hear them.
But he could think of somewhere much closer and far more cozy than the ends of the Earth for their celebration. He tugged Dominick to his feet without unlinking their hands, and kicked the bag to the corner of the room. Tonight they would celebrate; they could deal with unpleasant realities tomorrow. He noticed Dominick drop something small into his pocket, but since he didn’t comment on it, Alfie decided he had far more important concerns.
He pulled Dominick up the stairs. At the first floor landing, Dominick tried to keep going—the bedrooms were on the second floor—but Alfie laughed and dragged him into his study instead. One thing at a time.
“I think,” he said, crossing over to the sideboard. “It is only appropriate that we celebrate the robbing my cousin’s house with a very fine bottle of port he gave me.”
“And how shall we celebrate the rest of it?” He heard Dominick say from somewhere behind him.
“I’m sure we can think of something. We are criminal masterminds after all.”
He heard Dominick laugh, but focused all his attention on trying to open the bottle. The cork finally came free with a pop, and Alfie poured them each a glass of the deep ruby liquid. Leaving Dominick’s glass on the sideboard, he took a sip to test the flavor
as he turned back to face the room. Another jest sat on his tongue, but instead he nearly choked when he saw Dominick.
While Alfie had been struggling with the port, Dominick had stripped off his coarse workman’s shirt and now stood waiting by the empty fireplace with Alfie's green silk banyan draped over his shoulders, the golden embroidery sparkling in the lamplight. The garment hung open and loose, hiding nothing of the exquisite chest underneath, those firm muscles half-wrapped in the most decadent packaging. Alfie stood helpless as Dominick stalked towards him with unmistakable hunger in his eyes. He threw back the rest of the glass in one, and licked his lips.
“You’re meant to wear a shirt under that,” he teased.
“And you’re meant to wait for the other person to drink a toast,” Dominick reached out and cradled the side of Alfie's head in his palm. The gesture was as sweet as it was possessive. Alfie found himself leaning into it, all but nuzzling into Dominick's hand. His eyelashes fluttered as Dominick rubbed his thumb gently over Alfie's lips.
It was too much. He grabbed Dominick by the silk collar and pulled him in.
Dominick's mouth was hot on his, feverish with desire. He used his grip on Alfie's head to angle him slightly, and yes. This was perfect. He felt lost, like everything he’d ever known had been flung away, leaving him with nothing but Dominick's mouth on his and Dominick’s body against his own.
Alfie pressed closer, hoping to feel those miles of warm skin against him, the softness of the golden hair on Dominick’s chest, but felt nothing except the rub of the coarse shirt he was still wearing. He whined and bit at Dominick's mouth in punishment.
“What’s that for?” asked Dominick, pulling away just far enough to speak, his lips brushing Alfie’s in a maddening tease.
His Lordship's Secret Page 16