“What’s wrong her? Is she injured?”
“No, just barn sour.” He swore softly when the mare tried to bolt to the left. He turned the horse in two tight circles before bringing her close to Jane again. “Up you go. Quickly. We need to hurry.”
“Why? What’s happened?” She gave Gabriel her hand and let him haul her up behind him. “Have they found us?”
“No, we’re safe. Hold on tightly.”
She barely had time to wrap her arms around his waist before he urged the horse on. It lurched forward once, then took off like a shot.
Jane considered herself a reasonably competent rider. She could keep atop a well-mannered horse maneuvered over safe ground at a sensible speed. Unfortunately, none of these conditions were currently present. They were moving over muddy, uneven ground at a speed she never would have risked on her own horse. The wind whipped past her, and the heavy thud of the horse’s hooves filled her ears. Even without the reins in her hands, Jane could sense the horse continuously trying to veer off to one side or the other, and she could feel the tension in Gabriel’s frame each time he forced the animal back on course.
There was nothing she could do but keep a tight grip on Gabriel and pray Kray’s men wouldn’t stumble across their mangled, trampled persons in an hour’s time.
They rode through the soggy meadow, then into a narrow band of trees, and out onto a small dirt lane where, finally, Gabriel slowed the horse to a trot. As he steered them down the lane, Jane relaxed her grip and peered over his shoulder at the sliver of roofline she could just make out ahead.
“We’re on someone’s drive. The other house we saw. Are we making a point to be seen?”
“Not we.” He veered off into the woods again before the upper-floor windows came into view. “Just me.”
Coming to a stop a fair distance from the drive, Gabriel dismounted before helping Jane down.
“Wait here,” he instructed as he looped the reins over the low branch of a tree. “I won’t be long.”
She gave the mare a cautious glance as it pawed the ground impatiently. “Are you going to acquire a second horse?”
“Yes and no,” he replied cryptically as he brushed dirt from his coat. “Stay hidden.” He straightened his necktie. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“But what—”
The mare chose that moment to shuffle her hindquarters impatiently in Jane’s direction. She gave the horse’s rump a good one-handed shove, and by the time she turned back to Gabriel, he’d already taken off toward the drive. She could see him smoothing his hair as he made his way toward the house.
“Well…blast.”
Blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, she took a seat on an old stump a safe distance from the fretful horse and waited for Gabriel’s return.
He was quicker this time around, returning in a quarter hour on a large chestnut gelding that appeared considerably more relaxed than the mare. Gabriel looked rather at ease himself. And decidedly tidy, she suddenly noticed—much neater than he had any right to be after jumping from a train, hiking through the woods, and charging across a meadow on a half-feral horse.
He might have just come from a short, invigorating ride.
Jane peered down at her own attire. She might have just come out from under a rock. There was dirt and dust everywhere. Her trousers were wrinkled and torn near one knee despite the fact that she’d not been wearing them when they’d leapt from the train. She’d pulled a leaf out of her shirt not five minutes ago, and the condition of her hair, quite frankly, did not bear thinking upon.
She looked from Gabriel to the tied mare. “This horse isn’t for me to ride, is it?”
“No, cheese fork amen to furlough.”
She whipped her gaze back to his.Cheese fork? Surely not. “I…”
“A moment.”
He dismounted briefly to untie the mare and give it a quick swat on the hindquarters. The horse pivoted on the spot, digging deep hoof prints in the ground. Then she bolted back in the direction they’d come from, crashing through the narrow stand of trees and out into the open meadow beyond.
Jane watched in bafflement before turning to Gabriel. “Why did you do that?” He seemed able to control the animal reasonably well. Now they had only one horse.
Gabriel mounted the gelding again and grinned down at her, evidently quite pleased with himself. “Ever been on a carousel, Jane?”
“No.”
“Neither has Kray, I imagine. Doesn’t quite seem the type.” He held out his hand. “Up you go.”
She looked at his hand, then at him. “Are we in immediate danger of being overrun by Mr. Kray or his men?”
“No, we should be a good distance ahead of them still. Did you want to rest a little longer?”
“I was hoping you would explain to me what you’ve just done and why. Please.”
An explanation on the move would have been preferable, but she couldn’t be certain she’d be able to understand him.
Gabriel shifted in the saddle to better face her. “I’ve left hints for Kray’s men to find, but competing sets of tracks for them to follow.”
“What do you mean?”
“The two houses are isolated,” he replied, gesturing in the direction of both. “Also very close to the spot where we left the bonnet. Kray’s men will question the inhabitants of both homes sooner rather than later. Once they do, they’ll learn from the residents of the southern house that I bought a horse and rode off to the north. The obvious trail I left through the far edge of the muddy valley will confirm the story. At the northern house, they’ll learn I bought a horse and rode off to the south. The obvious trail our testy little friend is currently creating through the other edge of the valley will confirm that story.”
“And what will we really be doing? We’re not taking the road, are we?” They might be able to hide their tracks amongst those of other travelers on the road, but they would be much too exposed.
“Not yet. I want to leave a trail heading east for them as well.”
“I don’t understand, are we trying to stall them, or—Oh,” she said suddenly, realizing the benefit of such a plan. “They’ll have to break up, won’t they? They’ll separate to follow the different trails.”
“Exactly so. They may have broken into smaller groups already, but I’d not wager on it. And eight riders are a few more than I’d care to face all at once, if it came to that.”
“That’s very clever,” she decided, then glanced over her shoulder briefly. “Except that they’ll find the barn sour horse back in her stall straightaway.”
“They won’t, but if they wait long enough, they might hear of a stable hand who disappeared from his position without notice.” He pointed south. “Young Mr. Garfield is waiting out of sight at the edge of the meadow. The mare will take him to his new position in Lancashire.”
“What’s in Lancashire? Do you have a business there?”
“A house.”
She leaned to look around his mount at the trail the ill-behaved horse had left. “Mr. Garfield agreed to ridethat animal all the way to Lancashire?”
“He seemed quite fond of her. And for what I paid him, he’d have agreed to somersault to Lancashire.”
“You bought the horses at different times.”
“I bought them no more than a half-hour apart. It’s possible, but unlikely, that the men who sold them to me will recall the exact time of purchase. Besides, the point isn’t to lose Kray and his men entirely, you’ll recall. Just keep them at a safe distance. And speaking of which…” He held his hand out to her. “It’s time to go.”
She would have preferred to stay until he’d answered more questions, but she didn’t dare argue. Accepting his hand, she allowed him to pull her up behind him on the saddle.
Within just a few minutes of leaving, it became apparent to Jane that riding two to a horse was significantly more comfortable when done at a reasonable speed. Gabriel set an easy pace through the woods, onl
y urging the horse into a canter when they were in the open.
Jane imagined that, under other circumstances, she might have found the arrangement rather pleasant, even a little exciting. She was squeezed tight up against a handsome man who was whisking her across the countryside. Her arms were wrapped about his lean waist. His back was a hard wall against her chest. Every so often, when she turned her head just so, the scent of his hair tickled her nose.
It was rather romantic, really…if one didn’t think too hard about the why of it all.
Even better, perhaps, the close arrangement had the additional, unexpected benefit of allowing her to make conversation. It wasn’t often she was able to put her ear all but a few inches from someone’s lips. Granted, to obtain such a position, she had to press herself even more tightly against Gabriel than would normally be necessary, but he didn’t seem put out by the position, and the rewards were worth a little self-consciousness.
She couldhearhim. The occasional word still came to her jumbled, and there was certainly no guaranteeshe would speak clearly. But with his voice so close, it was easier for her to focus on what he was saying, and ignore other distractions.
She started with small comments and questions, asking if he’d procured other supplies at the houses, if they would be stopping elsewhere, and how far he meant for them to travel that day.
When she found Gabriel’s responses to be clear, she took a risk and dived into a topic she really wanted to discuss.
“It would be helpful if you would volunteer this sort of information rather than waiting for me to ask or demand it of you.”
“You want me to tell you my plans in advance,” he translated.
“Of course I do.” She was a part of them, wasn’t she? She had very little control over what was happening, but she could at leastknow what was happening.
“That’s not always possible, for a variety of reasons.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged lightly. “I’m not accustomed to working that way. I don’t present my ideas for review, nor explain myself afterward. I never have.”
“Surely your clients demand you keep them informed—”
“My clients demand I complete the job for which I am being paid. They don’t particularly care how I go about it. And why should they? They rarely take an active role in the work themselves. They hire me from the comfort of their parlors or offices, and wait there until I return with news.”
“Theyshould care, as you’re acting on their behalf.”
“The Thief Takers have a reputation for earning their commission quickly, honestly, and, with few exceptions, quietly. That’s enough for them.”
“It’s not enough for me. I’m not waiting in a parlor. I’m right here. I need to know what to expect.” And he hadn’t been honest withher, but she didn’t think it would help to mention it again.
He was quiet a long time before speaking. “I’ll keep you apprised whenever I can.”
“Whenever you can?” That wasn’t entirely reassuring.
“Old habits are hard to break.”
As a woman who’d not left her own property in six years, she was in no position to argue. “I’ll remind you,” she said instead.
“Oh, by all means.”
“Excellent,” she replied, and decided not to ask why he smiled. But his mention of his previous work did make her wonder…” Have you ever done this sort of thing before?”
“Do you mean, have I ridden across the countryside with a beautiful woman who was dressed as a man in a bid to both elude and lure a group of henchmen hired by a rogue spy?”
“More or less.”
“Yes, I have,” he replied and turned his head a little to smile at her. “More or less.”
“How much less?” And just how beautiful had the other woman been?
“I was sharing a horse with a girl of ten, and traveling with her fourteen-year-old brother, their mother, and a maid. We were evading the mother’s husband, the children’s stepfather, while Samuel and Renderwell set out a false trail in another direction.”
Jane could only imagine what sort of man the husband had been for such drastic measures to be necessary. “Did it end well?”
“They are comfortably settled in their new life, their whereabouts unknown but to a few.”
A happy ending, then. It was exactly what she wanted to hear. “It can’t be easy to move and hide an entire family.” It couldn’t be cheap to hire the Thief Takers to see it done, either. “She must be a woman of substantial wealth.”
“Not particularly. Most of our clients come from affluent families, but not all.”
She nearly asked how a woman without means had paid for the services of the Thief Takers before thinking better of it. Obviously, shehadn’t paid for them. The Thief Takers must have come to her aid out of kindness. Or charity, depending on one’s viewpoint.
Jane shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She wasn’t a paying client, either. Gabriel was assisting her with no expectation of compensation. That madeher a charity case.
“I’ll pay you once Edgar’s things sell,” she said quickly.
“Pay me? For what?”
“For helping the Harmons. And me, of course. What is your usual rate?”
“There’s no need for that,” he replied, giving her a funny look.
“Of course there is. I’m making use of your services, I ought to pay for them.”
He shook his head, and his voice lowered an octave. “I don’t want your money.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with my money?” Apart from the fact that she didn’t have any, obviously. But that was temporary. “It’s as good as anyone else’s,” she said. “Or will be,” she added, mostly to herself, “once I have some.”
That elicited a small chuckle from him. “There’s nothing wrong with it. You simply don’t owe me payment.”
“I do—”
“Youdon’t.” He shot her another glance. “Where did this come from?”
“I don’t want…” She heaved a breath of frustration. “I’ll not take your charity. I have my pride.” It had been battered, broken, and rebuilt countless times over the years, but she still had it.
Gabriel brought the horse to a stop and twisted in the saddle to look at her. “Is that what this is about? It’s not charity, Jane. I won’t take money from you because you didn’t hire me. I showed up at your door at the behest of the Foreign Office, and inadvertently brought you to the attention of a maniac. You’ll not pay me to fix that.”
“That was hardly your fault.” He did make a good point, however. Unlike the lady and her family, she’d not sought out Gabriel’s help. She’d never asked him to come.
“It’s still my responsibility.”
She briefly debated arguing the matter further but, upon reflection, decided to let it alone for the time being. Being a responsibility wasn’t exactly flattering, but it was a slight improvement over being a charity case. Besides, she didn’t want to have another argument with him. She wanted light, cheerful conversation to distract her from her dark thoughts.
Also, there was the small matter of how much her pride could end up costing her. She really had no idea how much the man charged.
“What is your house like?” she asked him.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Your home in Lancashire,” she explained. “What is it like? Is it grand? Cozy? Do you have a large garden?”
“This is a very sudden change in topic.”
“I need a distraction,” she admitted. “I don’t want to think about the Harmons, or about Mr. Kray and his men, or about where we are or…”
Where shewasn’t. At Twillins. Safe.
His features softened with concern. “Everything will be all right.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“It wasn’t a promise,” he said gently. “It was reassurance.”
She gave a smallhumph. “I’ll be reassured when I see the Harmons safe and sound. Now tell me about yo
ur house.”
***
Of all the possible traits Gabriel might have guessed belonged on Jane’s list of attributes, he never would have arrived atchatty.
But the lady had become quite keen on conversation. Any conversation at all. For the next few hours, Jane kept up a near constant stream of chatter, often leaping from one topic to the next without pause, warning, or any noticeable attempt at transition. She presented him with an endless line of questions—about his family, his friends, his work, his life in London, his travels.
He was happy to oblige her. He liked the sound of her voice, the unusual cadence that made him think of dancing. And he liked her laugh, not only the sound of it but the fact that it was a challenge to pull it out of her.
It took some work to amuse Jane Ballenger. Sarcasm, he noted, was a hit-and-miss proposition with her. But she clearly enjoyed humorous anecdotes, particularly those involving his youthful exploits at school, or eccentric clients who made outlandish demands. She preferred a good story to a clever quip.
He even liked how she mixed up her words from time to time, often without noticing. For the most part, he didn’t mention the errors. As long as he understood what she’d meant to say, he didn’t see what good could come from correcting her mistakes.
What he liked best of all, however, was how she felt pressed against his back. It wasn’t necessary for her to squeeze up so close that he could feel every breath she took. She didn’t need to lean her chin over his shoulder and speak directly in his ear—he wasn’t hard of hearing—but he’d be damned if he protested the arrangement.
When they had kissed, he’d caught the faintest whiff of her soap, a tantalizing hint of something clean, warm, and a little bit citrusy. He wanted to find it again, but it was so subtle, so elusive, that no matter how many times he turned his head to breathe her in, it evaded him.
It hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. He could still taste the lemony sweetness of it on his tongue. And maybe that was why he couldn’t find it now, maybe it was more than a scent. It was the lemon drops on her breath, the warmth of her hair in his hands, the delectable softness of her lips as they’d moved tentatively under his own.
A Dangerous Deceit (Thief-Takers) Page 13