by Vanessa Kelly, Christi Caldwell, Theresa Romain, Shana Galen
Chapter Seven
* * *
When Henry was gone, Kate squared her shoulders and went to work. There was no point in thinking about Henry any longer. She’d told him to leave, and he had. That was what she’d wanted. That was what they’d agreed upon. The traps were set, and all that was left was for her to do her part.
She couldn’t afford distractions right now.
Kate paced the area between her seats and that of the duke, trying to look like a man with a lot on his mind and much responsibility. She was all of that as her cubs reported to her, and she had to make decisions, such as when to close the flaps of the tent and not allow any more spectators inside. All the time, she kept the box with the ring in the periphery of her vision. She was aware of the number of times it was opened and who held it and when it was passed to someone else.
She’d picked pockets so often she could have done it in her sleep. Usually, it thrilled her, made her blood race in her veins. Tonight, she just wanted it done. She didn’t know why. Henry would not be waiting for her at the end. This was it. This was all she had in her life now.
Finally, the fight was about to begin. She had delayed the start to give the Prince Regent more time to arrive, but if she delayed too long, the spectators, who had been drinking and were now tightly packed into the stuffy room, would begin fighting amongst themselves. Women had not been allowed to attend the fight, but some had ignored the rule and were inside anyway. A fight over a woman would be all she needed.
Kate signaled to Gentleman Jackson. As the best-known fighter in England, he’d been asked to officiate, and he would determine the winner if neither pugilist was knocked unconscious. Now, Jackson stood in the middle of the ring and introduced the two competitors. Each man received loud cheers when his name was announced.
Kate continued pacing.
Next, the Duke of Devonshire was singled out, and the box with the ring was opened and displayed for all to see. The crowd reacted with the expected admiration. Finally, Jackson was ready to begin the fight, but Kate had caught a sign from one of the cubs near the entry flap. She smiled. She’d needed a distraction and thought she would have to satisfy herself with the first punches of the fight. But this would be even better. She nodded to the cub, then held up a hand to stay Jackson’s next words.
She didn’t need to speak, because the commotion the prince made as he entered the tent was more than sufficient to announce his arrival. He was fat, and the room was too full, and he struggled to make his way through the throngs. One of her cubs led his royal guard to her seats, and Kate made a show of bowing as though offering them to the prince. She didn’t speak, and the prince didn’t thank her. He merely took the seats and waved a scented handkerchief in front of his face. Kate moved out of the prince’s way to accommodate his retinue, which meant she was pushed closer to the Duke of Devonshire’s staff. Closer to the silver tray with the ring box in the center. It took only a moment, a moment when all attention was on the prince and then on Jackson, and the ring was hers.
She hadn’t become the Duke of Vauxhall simply because she was clever. She was also the best thief in London.
She pocketed the ring and nodded to Red. The two of them headed for the exit. No one paid them any attention. All eyes were on the men, stripped to the waist, battling in the center of the room. Kate was small, and it was easy for her to slip through the crowds. In a matter of minutes, she was outside and walking quickly away from the tent.
Red was right behind her. “That went better than I thought it would,” he said.
Kate didn’t reply. As far as she was concerned, the game was far from over. If she’d been on the streets of London, this would have been the moment when her hand was still in the mark’s pocket, and her wrist could be snatched at any second. And then, as though her thought had made it real, she heard an uproar from the tent that had nothing to do with a well-thrown punch.
“Here we go,” she told Red. “The fun is starting.”
“I’m too old for fun.” But he took off in one direction, and she in the other, as the Runners poured out of the tent and dodged after them.
Kate knew she had Henry to thank for the fact that she had only Runners to contend with and not any constables. Still, she cursed his name when three of them arrowed straight for her. She’d hoped more of them would go for Red, as he was a larger target, but she supposed she could handle three—if everything had been prepared correctly.
Kate ran in the direction she’d walked countless times over the past few days. She knew the way even in the dark, which was a good thing, as her cubs had managed to extinguish or break all of the lamps in this section. She’d have to remember to give them a reward. While she’d been busy inside the tent, they’d been working out here. She ran straight for the first trap, jumping nimbly over a pile of leaves. She heard the Runners right behind her, then heard the telltale cry as the ground under the leaves gave way.
She dared a look over her shoulder, then blew out an exasperated breath as she spotted two Runners on the side of the pit. Only one had fallen in. The other two had been either too deft or far enough back to avoid the trap. She might have hoped the Runners would stay long enough with their fallen comrade for her to escape, but they left him in the pit and raced after her.
Kate shifted direction and moved toward the second trap. This one was trickier, because she had to run close to a tree, and in the dark, all the trees looked alike. Not to mention, the Runners would be averse to moving too close to trees because they wouldn’t want to be struck by low-hanging branches. And they’d be alert for traps now.
Kate would have to run faster to counter their new cautiousness. She kicked up her speed until the muscles in her calves felt tight and her chest burned. At this speed, it was difficult to see which tree she needed, and she swore when she realized she’d passed it. She’d have to keep running then double back. She lost time this way, but it couldn’t be helped.
Red wasn’t wrong when he’d said he was too old for this sort of thing. Kate might have been barely six and twenty, but she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of the chase and the near misses. She’d never had much to lose before if she’d been caught. Her life hadn’t meant anything.
But since she’d met Henry, she’d begun to look forward to seeing him. She’d imagined kissing him again. She’d anticipated his company.
She’d lost him too now, and somehow that made all the rest seem meaningless.
Kate doubled back, careful not to accidentally run straight into the Runners’ arms, and made straight for the tree. Slowing so her pursuers would be right behind her, she veered off at the very last second, not certain she would evade the trap herself until she didn’t feel the net closing around her. She stumbled on, dodging the other trees just as she heard the whoosh of the net and the yells of the Runners.
Kate circled a tree and leaned against the trunk to catch her breath. She gulped in air, then peered around the trunk.
And swore.
One Runner was standing under the net, looking up at his partner. “Damn it!” she muttered. She was out of traps. Red’s traps might have been more efficient than hers, but if she led the Runner toward the path Red had taken and Red hadn’t yet evaded all of his pursuers, she could put them both in danger.
The last Runner turned to look in her direction, and she saw it was the mustachioed man. Of course it had to be him. He was the smartest of the lot, and probably the strongest. She’d be no match against him in a hand-to-hand fight. She’d have to lose him.
She started running again, wishing her legs were longer, or that she had better-fitting boots. She supposed the situation could have been worse than simply crashing through a garden in the dark. She could have been crashing through a garden in the dark while wearing skirts and slippers.
She led the Runner in circles several times, but finally it became clear he was catching up to her. He was probably in better physical shape than she and used to chasing criminals. That was, after a
ll, why he was called a Runner. She had little choice but to sprint toward her exit. Maybe she could run fast enough to leave Vauxhall behind. There were many places she could hide along the road. She could even jump on a carriage or cart and hide there.
Kate left the formerly booby-trapped section of the gardens behind and started for the back of Vauxhall. She had hidden burrows along the back wall and could scuttle under in a few moments. She’d just have to hope she’d be faster than he was, or he’d grab her ankle and pull her right back in.
That hope was quickly erased, because as soon as the foliage thinned, he increased his speed. She could all but feel his breath on the back of her neck.
“I have you, Duke!” he panted.
“Not yet,” she said and tried to run faster.
She passed a tree, her eyes on the wall beyond—the wall she would never be able to burrow under without him catching her. Too late, she saw the shadow behind the tree. She threw up her arms to ward off the attack and closed her eyes.
But when she heard the thud, she didn’t feel any pain.
Kate opened her eyes and saw Henry standing on the other side of the tree. The Runner lay at his feet.
* * *
Henry grabbed Kate’s arms. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Her face was red with exertion and her eyes wild. She looked from him to the Runner and back again.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be away from here.”
He released her. “I suppose it’s too much to expect a thank you.”
“I suppose it’s too much to expect you to do what I tell you.” Her hands went to her hips and she gulped in air.
“I don’t work for you. I don’t follow your orders.”
She stared at him, her thoughts unreadable under her trained expression. Then, to his surprise, she smiled. “No, you don’t work for me, do you?” She looked down at the Runner again. “What did you do to him?”
Henry shrugged and lifted a tree branch. “He should be unconscious for a little while.”
“Good.” She nodded quickly. “That gives me time.”
Henry looked at the wall. He’d given her time to escape now. That hadn’t been his plan. He’d planned to wait for her and give her a proper good-bye, but when he’d heard her coming and heard the footsteps behind her, he’d known she wasn’t alone. That was when he’d lifted the branch.
“Is it enough time for a last kiss?” he asked. “We didn’t say a proper farewell.”
“No,” Kate said. “There’s not time for that.”
Henry nodded coldly. It was probably better this way. If he kissed her again, he’d only want more and more, and he already wanted her too much.
“Help me take this coat off,” Kate said.
Henry stared at her.
“The coat, Henry. Hurry.”
He took one of the sleeves, and she yanked her arm out. “I have a dress hidden in those shrubs,” she told him.
She had planned for everything, it seemed.
She held out her hand for the coat, but instead of taking it, she reached inside. When her hand was free, she opened it. Gold and diamonds glittered on her palm.
“You got it.”
She smiled. “Of course I did.”
Then she leaned down, opened the Runner’s hand, and placed the ring inside, closing his fist around it.
Henry watched her with growing horror. “What are you doing?”
She looked up at him. “Does your offer still stand?”
“My offer?”
“Do you still want me?”
“Yes.” He didn’t have to think about it. He wanted her, no matter the price.
“I’m not doing you any favors. If we marry, you’ll regret it. We’ll both regret it.”
Henry pulled her into his arms. “Never. You’re not the only one who can make plans, you know.”
“You have a plan?”
“If you can get us out of Vauxhall Gardens, I can take care of our future.”
“Done.” She started for the wall, stripping off her shirt and her bindings as she went. It amazed Henry how quickly she worked and how unconcerned she might be that she might be seen, half naked. She bent and retrieved a small satchel, then pulled out a dress. She yanked it over her head and then reached under the skirts to unfasten her trousers and remove them.
She was pinning the bodice into place when Henry could finally believe she was serious. She was giving up her life as the Duke of Vauxhall. She’d not be able to go back when the Runner awoke with the ring. Even her own gang wouldn’t stand behind her once they learned she’d failed to pinch the goods.
“Are you certain?” Henry asked. He looked pointedly back at the Runner.
Kate took his hands. “No looking back. No regrets.”
“Why?”
She put a finger to his mouth. “Ask me again when we’re away from here. For now, this is why.” And she lifted her finger and pressed her lips to his.
* * *
Back at The Griffin and the Unicorn, Kate shoved the few possessions she didn’t want to lose into her satchel. There wasn’t much. She didn’t want anything to remind her of her life as the Duke of Vauxhall. Instead, she took personal items—a brush, clothing, and a miniature of her parents.
The gang hadn’t returned yet, and the inn was empty except for the servants preparing for the return of the guests who had gone to Vauxhall for the night. “If we leave now, we’ll have a good start on them,” she said. “But we can’t go to your house. They’ll look for me there.”
Henry nodded as though he knew this. “I didn’t intend to go there.”
“Then where did you intend?”
“The docks.” He pulled a paper from his waistcoat. “We’re leaving England.”
She raised her brows. “This is your plan? Flee the country?”
“No one will find you if you’re not in England to be found.”
She couldn’t argue with him. “And you have all the papers?”
“I arranged everything days ago. I kept hoping I might be able to convince you.”
“But leave England and your title…everything?”
“We’ll come back,” he promised.
Kate frowned. “How can we?”
Henry put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you trust me, Kate?”
She didn’t answer for a long, long time. She’d never trusted anyone. She’d never dared. But hadn’t she already trusted Henry when she’d put the ring in the Runner’s hand?
“Yes,” she finally said, looking up at him. “I trust you.”
He kissed her. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
* * *
Kate stood at the porthole and stared out at the open ocean. Henry had been on ships before, but he didn’t think she had. She’d been stumbling around for the last few hours, trying to get her sea legs, and now that they were inside the luxurious guest cabin he’d arranged, she had spent the better part of an hour staring at the ocean.
“What do you see?” he asked, coming up behind her.
“Water,” she answered. “A lot of water. I don’t like it.”
“We’ll be on land again soon.”
She nodded and continued staring out at the ocean.
“Do you regret leaving?” he asked finally. “I cannot turn the ship around, but if you want to go back, I will find a way to take you back.”
Slowly, she turned to him. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “I don’t deserve you, Henry.”
His chest tightened. “Of course you do.”
“I don’t, but that has never stopped me from taking what I want. And I realized tonight that I want you.”
He could breathe again, but he felt a hitch. “You just realized that tonight?”
She gave him an enthusiastic hug, an action he hadn’t expected. The force of her embrace caused him to stumble back, and the two of them landed on the berth, Kate sprawled on top of him. Henry tried to sit, but Kate
pushed him back down. “I like you where you are, Henry Selkirk.”
“I rather like it too.”
“Good. Then listen to what I have to say, because I won’t say it again. I’m not the sort of chit who fans her face with a handkerchief and waxes poetical about love.”
He knew that all too well. “I like you just fine exactly the way you are. Well, assuming you don’t acquire another iron rod.”
Her fingers twined with his. “You are safe with me, Henry.” She bent and kissed his lips. “Always and forever,” she whispered.
He raised his brows. This was indeed a side of her he hadn’t expected.
“Do you know what I realized tonight?” she asked.
“I cannot imagine.”
She began to unfasten her bodice. “Red said he was too old to run away from Bow Street Runners. I realized I’m too old to do it anymore too. I’m too old and too tired. I know I’m not elderly, but I’ve spent a lifetime ducking and dodging. I did it to survive, and I did it because it made my blood race. But it doesn’t make my blood race anymore, Henry. When you walked out of that tent, I wanted to chase after you. I didn’t want to lose you, because you, Henry— you make my blood race.”
“I know the feeling,” he said, looking up at her as she slid the dress off her shoulders, revealing her bare breasts.
“I never cared about losing anyone before. It was part of the cost of business. But I didn’t want to lose you, Henry. I couldn’t lose you, and I couldn’t keep you and remain the Duke of Vauxhall.” She untied his neckcloth and flung it on the floor and began to unfasten his shirt buttons. “And that was a perfectly acceptable trade, because here’s a secret, Henry.” She pulled him up, pushed his coat off and gathered his shirt over his head. Then her hands rested on his bare shoulders, and she looked directly in his eyes. “I hated being the Duke of Vauxhall.”
“You hated it?” His hands slid up her bare back, and he pulled her close. He wanted to feel her skin touch his.