by Shana Galen
And then Kate and her gang would disappear for the rest of the prince’s celebrations. She would lie low until all the fuss was over and then go back to running the regular rackets.
In her head, she could hear the echoes of Henry’s warning that her reign as the Duke of Vauxhall couldn’t continue forever. In the end, everyone was betrayed. She could only hope that when her end came, it would be swift and painless.
That was all she’d allow herself to hope. Henry might like to delude himself that there was more out there for her, but she knew the truth. This life was all she had. She’d known from childhood that her life would be hard and short. She just hadn’t expected to wish it could have been different.
Kate was pleased to note that the lamps were fewer and farther between as they neared the dark walks. A few had even been extinguished, and she thought she could thank her cubs for that work. She was about to ask who Red had assigned to keep watch on this area when he touched her arm in warning. Kate saw the man in the shadows a moment before he stepped out. The warning also gave her time to recognize him, which saved his life. Her hand had gone to the knife at her waist, but now she sheathed it again.
“Bexley,” she said. “Nice of you to show your face. We can see it so clearly in all the light.”
He frowned but didn’t offer an apology. Instead, he stepped back into the shadows. “We need to talk.”
Without waiting for her to follow, he started down a dirt path hidden by the bushes. She knew the path well. She was one of the people who’d made it.
“Do you want me to kill him, or do you want the pleasure, Duke?” Red asked, staring after Henry.
“That pleasure is solely mine,” she promised. “But let’s hear what he has to say first.” The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and that was always a bad sign.
Kate and Red followed Henry along the path until they came to an old stone bench, long covered by moss and beginning to crumble. At one time, this section of the gardens must have been open, but it had been forgotten, the trees and bushes around it allowed to grow to conceal it. That suited Kate’s purposes very well.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kate said before Henry could try to dominate the discussion. “We were to meet inside the tent. The fight starts in less than an hour.”
“We have a problem.”
“You’re the problem,” Red told him.
“No, the Prince Regent is the problem,” Henry said.
Kate folded her arms over her chest. “Explain.”
“He’s here—well, I don’t know if he’s here yet, but he’s coming.”
“You said he didn’t plan to attend again until the concert and fireworks,” Red hissed.
“That was what he said, but he obviously changed his mind. Everyone in Town is talking about this fight. The prince doesn’t want to miss it.”
Kate put her hand to her forehead in a vain attempt to ward off the megrim she knew was coming. The last thing she needed was the Prince Regent at her prizefight. “And this is why all the lamps are lit?” she asked.
“I had the oil moved so the lamplighters would run out, but when the staff from Prinny’s household arrived, they sent for more.”
Kate gritted her teeth. “What about the constables?”
“They won’t be here tonight, but the prince will have his royal guard with him.”
Kate blew out a breath. “That’s fine. They’ll be here to protect the prince. They won’t bother with the rest.”
“But you can’t still plan to steal the ring,” Red asked.
“Why not?”
“What ring?” That was from Henry. Kate wanted to curse.
She ignored the question. “Why not?”
“Because now you have more than the Bow Street Runners and Devonshire’s men to contend with. You have Prinny’s royal guard as well.”
“Devonshire? What the devil?”
Kate kept her gaze on Red. “Which might actually work to our advantage,” Kate said.
“Our advantage?” Henry protested. “My tasks for tonight were to eliminate as many constables as I could and rid the gardens of the oil for the lamps. I don’t want any part in the rest of it. I bloody well knew there was more to this than the betting, and I don’t want to know what else you’re planning.”
“Then pretend you didn’t hear it.”
“I wish to hell and back I hadn’t, but I’m putting it together now. Devonshire is offering a ring to the winner of the fight, and you think you can steal it. But Devonshire won’t hand it over. It will be guarded. And with all the other complications, stealing it is nigh impossible.”
“It will certainly be a challenge,” she said. And honestly, she had no other choice. This was it. Her last score.
“You’ll make a fortune from the betting. Take that and walk away,” Henry suggested.
Kate shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.”
Henry closed his eyes. “I bloody well knew you would say that.”
HENRY FOLLOWED KATE and Red back to an enormous tent that had been erected deep along one of the dark walks. It was the sort of tent generals might use to confer with staff or within which a sheikh might house his harem. The crowds were spilling out of the flap now, and it was obvious that, despite the size of the tent, not everyone would be able to fit inside. He wasn’t certain if the record attendance would help Kate or hurt her.
He didn’t know whether he wanted her to be helped or hurt.
Henry didn’t condone theft, and he didn’t want to be a part of it. It would have made his life so much easier if Kate had been willing to walk away from the theft of the ring. Then she would have been safe—well, safer. But he’d known she never would. Her gang knew she planned to steal the ring, and if she didn’t risk it now, she would lose face in their eyes. She couldn’t afford that. She had the sort of power that relied upon blunt, violence, and risk. If her gang wasn’t in awe of her, afraid of her, or paid well by her, they’d defect to another leader.
She’d said she’d steal the ring. Either she stole it, or she lost everything.
But if she stole the ring, he would lose her.
Henry supposed he would have lost her no matter what, but there had been a moment the night before when he’d hoped they might have a future. Kissing her again had been better than the first time. And touching her, feeling her naked skin beneath his hands, watching her climax—those experiences had been like nothing he could have imagined.
He wanted her again. Even now, he had the urge to touch her, to put a hand on her shoulder or the small of her back. She would cut it off before she allowed his hand on her, though. She was every inch the Duke of Vauxhall at the moment. She moved, spoke, and oozed authority. She didn’t have to push past the crowds to gain entrance to the tent. Even if most of the crowd had no idea she was the notorious Duke of Vauxhall, they knew she was someone menacing. The men parted for her without a word of protest, and when she entered the tent, voices hushed.
She didn’t pause, but went straight to her gang, who were working the room, collecting bets. Henry followed, glancing around the dark space. The only light was on the ring drawn in the center. Stools for the fighters sat at opposite sides, and Henry recognized Godrick Gunnery standing near his protégé. He rolled his neck and then seemed to nod slightly when the Duke of Vauxhall looked at him.
Scrugs approached Kate immediately. “Duke, we can’t fit too many more. Davey and Flasher went to see if there is a way to open up one side. Maybe a few more can sit over there.”
“And the betting?” she asked, her voice low. Henry supposed it might sound masculine to someone who didn’t know her, but nothing about her appearance would ever seem masculine to him again.
“We’re collecting the wagers now,” he answered.
“Send some men outside to collect from those who can’t get a seat. Even if they don’t see the fight, they can still wager.”
“Yes, Duke.” Scrugs moved away just as a trio of men moved in
.
“Runners,” Red hissed.
Henry didn’t know the men and didn’t have any experience with Runners, but now that he knew who they were, he could have picked them out. They exuded the same sort of authority Kate carried.
“Duke,” one of the Runners said with a mocking bow. He had a black mustache that looked as though it had been oiled regularly. “We had a feeling you might make an appearance.”
“Half of London has made an appearance,” Kate said, looking pointedly around the room. “I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Looks like your boys are taking wagers. Has gambling on prizefights at Vauxhall Gardens been sanctioned by the Crown?” the mustached Runner asked.
“Why don’t you ask the Prince Regent?” she answered smoothly. “He’s wagering twenty pounds on King.”
Henry could barely keep his mouth from dropping open. She was lying. He knew she was lying because she hadn’t even known the prince was coming, couldn’t know whether he would actually attend or not. He certainly hadn’t given her any blunt for a wager. But she’d spoken so convincingly that Henry could almost believe she had been chatting with the prince a few moments before entering. The Runners looked skeptical.
The head Runner nodded. “I’ll be sure to ask him, Duke. And if I find out differently, we’ll come looking for you.”
“I’m not a hard man to find.” She walked away from the Runners and toward the seats reserved for the Duke of Devonshire. Henry had seen the duke standing near them, and since they were padded and ornamented with gold, he assumed they’d been brought from one of the ducal residences so the man would not have to place his pampered arse on a hard surface.
“Should we offer them a bribe?” Red asked as they walked.
Kate shook her head. “Unfortunately, not all of the Runners are on the take. Those three can’t be bought. Keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, Duke.” And then Red was gone.
Henry moved beside Kate, and she said, almost conversationally, “Introduce me to your friend, won’t you?”
He raised his brows. “The Duke of Devonshire is not my friend. We barely know each other.”
“That’s good enough. Introduce me. I want to see the ring.”
Henry clenched his fists. “I told you I don’t want to be part of this,” he said under his breath.
“Too late for that, Henry.” She stopped a few feet before the circle of sycophants surrounding Devonshire.
Devonshire paused in his conversation, his questioning gaze traveling from her to Henry.
“Duke,” Henry said genially. Devonshire’s friends called him Hart, but as Henry had said, he was not one of Devonshire’s friends. “Allow me to introduce you to an...acquaintance of mine.” He’d purposefully paused, as though reluctant to call Kate an acquaintance. As though his association with the crime lord was forced. “The Duke of Vauxhall.”
The duke’s gaze lowered to Kate briefly. “Sir.”
Kate bowed with gentlemanly courtesy. She would have made a wonderful actress if she hadn’t been a crime lord. “Your Grace. Thank you for offering the prize to the winner of the match tonight. I’ve heard the ring is quite spectacular.”
The duke didn’t answer, but he inclined his head toward a footman in the Devonshire livery. The man held a silver tray in the center of which was an ornate wooden box that would have fit snugly in a man’s palm. He approached and, with a gloved hand, opened the lid. Henry had seen many riches, but even his eyes widened at the sight of the ring. It was gold and sparkled with diamonds. The band was thick and masculine and in the center of the ring, surrounded by diamonds, was a large square-cut stone.
“Perfect,” Kate said, managing to look almost disinterested. “A fine prize.” She bowed and then moved away. Henry bowed as well and followed. He looked back and saw the footman had returned to his place, holding the tray with the box, once again closed, but in full view.
“You seem unimpressed,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“No reason to appear too interested.” She steered them to the seats that had been reserved for her, to the left of the duke and in the front. There were two seats, and both were occupied by gang members who stood and moved aside when she approached. “Sit back down,” she told them. “I won’t be sitting much.” To Henry, she said, “You won’t be sitting at all. I want you far away when I take the ring.”
“You don’t have to do this. You could come with me—”
She waved a hand, cutting him off. “We both know I can’t accept that offer, and you don’t even have the right to make it. I wish we were alone, so I could say good-bye. But this will have to do.” She made him a formal bow, such as one might give a mere acquaintance.
Henry didn’t know why he should feel as though he’d been slapped. This was what they had planned. This was the way it was supposed to happen. He was free now. He could walk away, and he’d never have to see the Duke of Vauxhall again. The prince’s celebrations would go on as planned, and he could take all the credit and glory for both the grandeur and the economy.
It was what he’d always wanted, wasn’t it? It was the safest course.
Henry made his way out of the tent, feeling safer than he had in days.
And hating it.
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 ou
t 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.