“It’s a newer design. Lighter. More accurate,” LeCompte said. “It’s American.”
Devin opened the weapon and saw that it wasn’t loaded. “Thank you,” he said.
LeCompte pulled open a small drawer, rummaged around in it, and then passed Devin a box of ammunition. “I hope I won’t need this,” Devin murmured, but he loaded the weapon and pocketed the rest.
“Soyez prêt,” he said. When he noticed Devin’s blank expression he translated, “Be prepared.”
Devin glanced down at his evening attire. “I wish I were wearing something different.” A lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he lifted the pistol slightly. “This isn’t exactly a typical evening accessory. Canes seem much more innocuous.”
“But a pistol is much more effective.” LeCompte glanced at Devin appraisingly. “You’re a bit broad in the shoulders to wear one of my coats.” He rubbed at his chin, and then his face lit up. “Ah, yes. I have just the thing. Je serai tout de suite,” he said, and darted from the room.
Devin’s understanding of French was minimal, but he thought LeCompte said he’d be right back. From a nearby room, Devin could hear what sounded like a wardrobe door banging shut, and a moment later LeCompte came in carrying a charcoal-gray frock coat.
“This should do,” LeCompte said. “A friend left a few items with me for safekeeping while he travels around England. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you were to borrow it for a few hours.”
Devin shrugged into the coat. The shoulders were a bit tight, but it would do. Patting his palms over the fabric, he quickly located the most essential part of this coat’s design: pockets large enough to hold a pistol. He locked gazes with LeCompte and gave him a quick nod. “Let’s go.”
Devin trotted downstairs to find Cecilia waiting for him at the bottom step. “Afraid we’d leave without you?” he asked.
“The thought crossed my mind, but since I know where Mr. Savel’s pawn shop is located, I realized it was unlikely you’d leave me to find my way there alone,” she said, grinning up at him as though she knew she’d trapped him.
Devin’s chest tightened. She looked so jaunty and excited. Her slightly crooked eyetooth caught on her lower lip in such an adorable way that it took every bit of Devin’s self-control not to lean down and kiss her. He wanted to pull her to him and hold her close. Didn’t she realize how dangerous this could be? Didn’t she realize that this was a far different situation than facing LeCompte had been?
That thought brought him up short. Had he recognized deep down that LeCompte wasn’t the real culprit? Is that why he hadn’t really minded that she and Evangeline had wanted to come? Had he been relying on intuition more than he’d realized? The thought was startling. He was a man of reason and logic, not whim and irrationality. He’d always believed in facts. In what he could see and prove. But had he been fooling himself all these years? Was he guided by instinct and intuition as well?
He watched as Cecilia turned to speak to her sister. He’d never been able to make a logical argument for why he should marry Cecilia. Had he made his decision based on intuition? Is that why he’d felt compelled by something he couldn’t explain?
“My carriage is ready,” LeCompte said. “Do you want your driver to continue to wait for you?”
Devin snapped back to the moment. “I’ll send him on his way. Give me a moment.”
§
Thirty minutes later, LeCompte’s carriage arrived outside Mr. Savel’s pawn shop. When Devin stepped out onto the pavement, he glanced up and saw the curtain move in an upstairs window. “Savel knows we’re here,” he said.
“There’s no point in waiting,” Cecilia said, glancing over at a pair of clocks in the pawnshop window. “Let’s talk to him before Kenning arrives. It’s already half past seven.”
Devin moved toward the narrow entry door at the side of the pawn shop and pushed it open. A narrow staircase greeted him, and he hurried up it with LeCompte immediately behind him and the Paring sisters close on their heels.
There was only one door at the top of the landing. “Remember what I said,” Devin said to Cecilia. “Stand back.” His eyes met hers, and he didn’t move until she nodded. That would have to be good enough.
Devin knocked sharply on the door, and after a moment, he heard a key turning in the lock. The door only opened an inch, and Devin saw a pair of small, dark, glittering eyes peering at him. The man was much shorter than he’d expected. But that didn’t make him any less dangerous. Guns were an excellent equalizer, and if Savel held one, he’d be dangerous indeed.
Devin’s hand tightened on the weapon in his frock coat pocket. “Mr. Savel? We were hoping we could have a word with you. It won’t take long, and I promise to make it worth your time.”
The glittering eyes narrowed, and Devin could tell the man was examining him. Evaluating every thread of his clothing to decide if he wanted to risk opening the door.
Finally the door opened wider. "Come on in, then," Savel said. "But mind you get to the point fast. I have a business to open, and my customers will begin arriving soon." As he turned his back to them, he bit into a round piece of bread with a hole in the center, and a thick dollop of what looked like soft, white cheese oozed from it.
Devin followed him into the dark room. It was cluttered with boxes stacked up and labeled with cryptic marks. Devin had the impression that there was order and logic in their arrangement, but he wasn't certain what it was. Savel tossed the round bit of bread onto a plate next to a cup of tea at the table as he sat heavily on the single chair, and Devin noticed that a full carpetbag sat on the table next to the plate.
"Are you taking a trip?" Devin asked, gesturing toward the bag.
Savel scowled at him and rubbed at the corner of his mouth, wiping away a fleck of the soft cheese. "What's it to you? And what d'you want? You’re wastin' me time."
LeCompte moved forward. “Mr. Savel, do you remember me?”
“Yea,” he said without a pause. “You’re that Frenchie what’s been spying on me customers. ‘Zat why you’re ‘ere? To ask me about ‘em?”
LeCompte smiled approvingly. “I knew you had a keen eye. Let’s see if you also have a keen mind.”
Savel stiffened. Devin could swear the man stopped breathing for a moment as he peered more closely at his unwanted guests.
Finally, Savel let out a sigh. “I think I knows why yer ‘ere, but I’ll let you tell me. No use puttin’ me own neck on the line by saying somethin’ I shouldn’t.”
“Très bien. My regard for the keenness of your intellect keeps increasing,” LeCompte said as he nodded with approval. “Since you are being direct with us, I’ll do the same. We know Mr. Kenning stole Lady Babbage’s jewels at Mivart Hotel last night. What you may not be aware of is that in doing so, he attacked a guard at the hotel, and that man could quite possibly die.” LeCompte paused and eyed the pawnbroker with keen interest. After a moment of contemplation, he pressed his lips into a straight line. “I see you’re ignorant of that fact. That must mean Kenning hasn’t been here yet. Am I correct?” He continued to watch Savel intently.
Savel narrowed his eyes. His gaze flicked toward the carpetbag on the table before he looked at Devin and then back at LeCompte.
“I think he has not, which is good,” LeCompte said to Devin. He returned his attention to Savel. “You see, that fits into our plans perfectly since we intend to waylay Mr. Kenning when he arrives this morning. We’ll make sure those jewels return to their rightful owners. With your help, of course.”
Savel shriveled in his chair, and his dark, hollow eyes seemed to grow in size until they took up most of his face. He glanced away from them and let out a huff of breath before meeting LeCompte’s gaze. “Well, I can’t honestly say I never met this man Kenning. It’s clear you already know he’s been here a few times to sell bits and pieces he won gambling. ‘Least-ways, that’s where he said he got ‘em. But you’re saying he’s a thief? Maybe even a murderer?” Savel made a tut
-tutting noise. “Ain’t that a shame. Him being such an upright-looking young bloke. But I’ll tell ya’, I don’t do no business with thieves. I’d never put me shop at risk. If this man Kenning’s a thief and a murderer, then I got no business with ‘im.”
LeCompte grinned. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. As I said, you have a keen mind, Mr. Savel.”
Savel glanced at a small clock above the mantel. “You’re runnin’ outta time if you want to catch ‘im. E’s always a bit early.”
10 - Create a Solution
Cecilia let LeCompte and Evangeline lead the way down the stairs toward the street exit. Their leather-soled shoes clattered noisily on the wooden treads as she and Devin trailed after the others. A shaft of brilliant sunlight streamed in through the transom window above the door, causing her to squint against the glare. The rare bit of sunlight warmed the narrow space against the morning chill, bringing a ray of hope with it. Kenning was within their grasp, she could feel it.
When Devin touched her arm, she glanced up at him at the same moment that the rare glint of clear morning sunlight disappeared behind a cloud, and she immediately missed dawn’s kiss as her skin abruptly cooled. Devin’s expression made her pause. “What is it?” she asked.
He frowned, opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then hesitated. Then, an expression of grim determination settled onto him. “I don’t trust Kenning, and I don’t think he’ll simply hand over the jewels if all we do is ask politely.” He hesitated, but then forged ahead. “Promise me you and your sister will wait in LeCompte’s carriage where it’s safe.”
Cecilia cocked one eyebrow. “Is that another order? Haven’t you learned yet that I don’t respond well to them?”
“Don’t take it as an order then, take it as a request.” Devin puffed out his breath in frustration. “Please, Cecilia. This isn’t a game. Why won’t you listen to reason?”
She shifted her weight and lifted the hem of her skirt, climbing back up the stairs until she stood next to him and could meet his gaze while on even footing. “Because you aren’t speaking from reason, you’re speaking from fear— fear for my well-being. The reasonable thing would be to let me help, considering how few friends you currently have.” She smiled tenderly at him and her voice softened. “You know you’d be lost without me.”
He smiled softly as he brushed back a strand of her hair, and the back of his fingers grazed against her cheek, sending a spark of connection between them. He continued the motion, tucking the bit of hair behind her ear. “But that’s the problem, don’t you see? I would be lost without you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I can’t risk your safety for my personal benefit.” He shook his head in frustration as he slid his fingers around to the back of her neck and cupped her nape in his hand. “How am I supposed to stand aside and let you put yourself in danger?” The heat of his breath brushed warmly against her cheek. “It goes against my every instinct.”
She sensed that deep within him, a small war was waging, and in an effort to soothe him, she placed her palm on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath it. She could see that his need to control and direct the world around him, including his fiancée, was battling with her demand that he respect her right to make her own decisions. “You need to trust me,” Cecilia said, her voice soft and soothing as she looked deep into his eyes. “You need to believe that I know my own mind, that I have a right to make my own choices, and that I won’t put myself at risk on a whim. I need you to have faith in me, Devin, even when you don’t understand my reasons.”
He closed his eyes and dipped his head so their foreheads touched. “You always were strong-willed. I should have known better than to believe that the prospect of marrying me would change that. You’ll always be this way, won’t you?”
Cecilia tensed at his words.
He lifted his head slightly and opened his eyes as he gazed into hers. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He pressed his mouth against hers in an intense, claiming kiss. “You’re my Athena,” he murmured against her cheek.
A moment later he pulled away. It hadn’t been a lingering kiss, and was over a moment after it had begun, but Cecilia sensed that it signaled a change between them.
He reached down and took her hand in his, tucking it through the crook of his arm. When she gave him a bemused look, he grinned back at her. “What is it you always say to me? ‘If you can’t see the solution to your problem, look at it from a different angle and create a new solution.’ That’s right, isn’t it?” He continued down the stairs with her at his side.
She nodded, pleased that he had remembered her words.
“So I’ve decided to change my point of view.”
“And what is your new point of view?” she asked as they reached the bottom step.
“That having a wife who thinks for herself gives me one less thing to worry about. My error was in thinking of your independence as a problem rather than a solution.”
The tension she’d been carrying with her for months suddenly evaporated, leaving Cecilia with a sensation of lightness. A slow smile spread across her face, and by the time they reached the others, she was wearing a broad grin.
“Be on your guard,” LeCompte said, raking his gaze over all three of them. “I don’t trust Kenning.”
Cecilia’s smile faded. She needed to stay focused. This next half hour or so would be crucial. She couldn’t afford a misstep.
LeCompte waited until they all nodded their understanding before turning to face the door leading to the street. He reached for the doorknob, but never had a chance to grasp it because the door suddenly swung open, almost hitting him.
Kenning stood facing him, holding a large, sturdy leather case in one hand. Kenning smiled in polite surprise upon seeing LeCompte, but as soon as he caught sight of the rest of the group, his expression froze.
Cecilia focused on the case he carried. It was just the right size to accommodate Mother’s stolen jewelry collection. Her pilfered dowry was dangling from that man’s hand. She was certain of it.
Kenning pulled the case back as though trying to shield it from her view, but it was too late. He must have known that, because he spun away from them and raced back to where a ragged-looking young street urchin was holding a horse’s reins.
Evangeline was the first to react. She tore after Kenning with LeCompte fast at her heels.
Cecilia and Devin surged forward, pushing through the door and onto the street.
Evangeline was quick. She darted forward and grabbed the handle of the case, yanking at it with a twisting motion, but Kenning didn’t lose his grip.
The man jerked it back, but Evangeline refused to let go, hanging on to the case like a terrier with a death grip on a rat.
Kenning glowered at her and reached his free hand into a voluminous pocket of his overcoat. When he pulled his hand back out, he held a large black pistol.
He didn’t pause in his motion, but carried the weapon in a swinging arc until the barrel of the muzzle pointed directly at Evangeline’s heart.
At the sight of the pistol, Cecilia stumbled to a halt and grabbed Devin’s arm, forcing him to stop as well. She didn’t want to do anything that might make Kenning pull the trigger.
She couldn’t risk it.
Of their group, LeCompte was closest to her sister. He’d only been a step behind Evangeline, and Cecilia watched with mingled relief and horror as he shouldered his way between Evangeline and the gun barrel. What if he caused Kenning to pull the trigger?
Cecilia held her breath. She had to believe that LeCompte could handle the situation. Somehow, he’d calm Kenning, she was certain of it. The sounds of the street seemed to disappear, as though all of London held its breath along with her.
An instant later, a gunshot shattered the silence.
Evangeline screamed. But it wasn’t a girlish scream. Instead, it was a scream full of animal fury, and somehow it seemed to give Evangeline the strength
she’d been lacking just a moment earlier. This time, when she yanked at the case Kenning held, she jerked it free.
LeCompte fell to the ground. A black ring marred the buff-colored fabric of his suit coat. No, it wasn’t a black mark anymore. Now a red flower was blooming from the center of the ring. Cecilia shook her head, trying to clear away the strange image. How could a flower be there? No, it was blood, not petals, that spread out from the round dark hole and it quickly obliterated the black mark on his shoulder.
With Kenning no longer providing an opposing force pulling on the case, Evangeline almost fell over backward. But she compensated for the change, spun around to harness the unexpected energy, and continued turning in a circle, whirling the case around in her outstretched arm. As she spun, she aimed the case so it slammed into the side of Kenning’s face.
Evangeline knocked the man off his feet as soundly as any pugilist could. Cecilia blinked in surprise.
Kenning shook his head, as though Evangeline had rattled his brain loose from its moorings. He still had the pistol clutched in one hand as he planted one foot on the pavement. He focused a murderous glare on Evangeline and raised the weapon toward her again.
LeCompte was flat on the ground, clutching his hand to his shoulder, but despite his injury, he swung out with his foot and slammed it into the back of Kenning’s hand.
Kenning’s pistol flew from his grasp and went skittering across the brick pavers, bouncing haphazardly until it landed beneath the hooves of Kenning’s mount.
The horse reared up at the perceived threat, prancing to kill the small black thing that had startled it. A hoof caught the corner of the weapon, causing it to bounce up again and then fly across the pavers so that it disappeared under a nearby cart.
Kenning stumbled to his feet. With a roar of frustration, he stumbled toward the ragged-looking boy and knocked him across the face with a brutal backhand. “I’m paying you to keep that horse under control, not just stand there!” he shouted. “Can’t you do anything right?” He rounded on Evangeline and balled his fists. “And you!” Kenning’s grimace of fury left Cecilia in no doubt of his intent.
It Takes a Spy...: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 10