Without hesitation, she strode over to the ramshackle building, hoping the beasts inside weren’t as derelict as the building.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” she called.
Rose peered into the dark recesses of the building, surprised to see a clean and organized home for the animals within. Obviously, the outside did not reflect the inside. A young man exited.
“Do you have a horse I may rent?” she asked him. “I could have it returned, or leave it at Hadfield Stables in Pickle Street.”
The young man eyed her. “You mean Floyd Hadfield?”
Holding her breath, hoping he’d agree, she simply nodded. She pushed her shoulders back. “I have money.”
“Ten shillings for Bessie.” He pointed to an old nag that, while clean and seemingly well fed, Rose guessed wouldn’t get her home any faster than she could walk.
“I don’t think so. She’s old and your price is highway robbery.”
He shrugged and turned to walk away. “Take it or leave it.”
She spied a rather beautiful mare with a white star on its forehead. “This one. Three shillings.” She might be female, but she was no fool with money, something he would find out soon enough.
His eyes widened and then narrowed. “That’s Star, and she’s ten shillings.”
“Four, and I’ll arrange for her to be returned to you at my journey’s end.”
The young man’s expression shifted, and Rose knew she’d gained his interest. This deal was about to go her way.
He scraped a hand across his unshaven jaw. “Seven.”
“Five and not a penny more.” She turned to the exit and walked toward it, holding her breath, frustration building as she walked out into the fresh breeze blowing off the Thames.
She’d barely taken a few steps when he called out. “Five it is, then, though me father will flay me hide.”
Rose suppressed her smile as she turned back to him. “Thank you, though it should have been no more than three.” She had no time to waste haggling. She handed over the money, and he brought out the beautiful beast. It bore no saddle, and he noted her hesitation.
“You didn’t barter for a saddle, just for Star.”
Her smile broke. “Well negotiated.”
He returned her grin. “Aye.”
Rose grazed a calming hand along its neck. The horse whinnied, tossing its head a few times.
“She likes you, miss.”
So much for her disguise! “You knew.”
“’Course I did. You’re too pretty to be a boy.”
Despite herself, Rose blushed. “Thank you, but now I must be on my way.” She climbed on the back of the horse, tugged on the reins and guided the horse toward the way she’d come, past the jetty and her most recent mode of transport, and offered the boat master a wave as she passed him.
“Come on, Star,” she encouraged as she guided the horse up the lane toward home.
It took a while to catch up to Nathan, which surprised her as he’d walked considerably farther than she’d expected. As she drew up alongside him, she noticed his limp and the pain etched across his face.
He glanced up at her. “I wondered how long it would take you to catch up.”
Rose straightened, pushing her shoulders back. “I had business to undertake. Riding is so much better than walking, don’t you think?”
He didn’t smile. “So are you going to offer me a ride?”
“You obviously wanted to walk, whereas I decided riding is smarter—and faster—so why should I?”
“Out of kindness.”
She slowed the horse to keep pace with Nathan.
“You need me, squ…Rosie.”
“Like a hole in the head.” However, she noted that each time Nathan put his left foot forward, he winced. “Do you have a sore foot?”
“A blister.”
“Poor boy. Have you forgotten how to walk since you left to live in your America?”
“Nope. Just new shoes.”
“And fine they are too, but I guess they’re not made to walk England’s lanes, but only the halls of fancy hotels.”
“They’re the finest leather, I’ll have you know.”
“You’ve come up in the world, Nathan.”
“I’ve worked hard to get where I am.” The strength in his voice told her in no uncertain terms that he was proud of what he’d achieved.
“Fine words, and fine shoes, but you’ve still got a blister.”
“So are you going to give me a ride or not?”
“I could, or I could just go on my way.”
“You wouldn’t leave an injured man.”
“Perhaps. But I’ll tell you one thing. It is rather enjoyable being able to tease you. The shoe’s on the other foot, so to speak.” She smiled down at him, enjoying the moment. “Tell me why I should, apart from your sore footsie.”
“Because two heads are better than one, and if you want to find and save your father, then I think we should work together.”
“And don’t forget about finding your diamond.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten that. The Pasha Star and its safekeeping represent everything Ben and I have worked so hard for, for years. Our combined designs will revolutionize the lock-system industry, and the world will know all about Steel Hawk Locks soon enough.”
“You talk a convincing argument.”
“Where the diamond is, your father will be. We find one, we find the other. However, time is something that is not on our side right now, Rosie.”
Time. Nathan spoke the one word that changed her teasing into reality. “When the thieves have the paste your father makes, they won’t need him anymore.”
“But the real diamond has already been stolen.”
“True. But they don’t know that—yet—and that’s to our advantage. It’s up to you and me to find the real diamond so we at least have something to barter with.”
“You would give them the Pasha Star?”
“I didn’t say that, but how about you let me up on that horse of yours and we can find these bastards?”
“We?”
For a moment, Nathan’s gaze held hers captive, his dark gaze hypnotizing, drawing her in. It felt comforting, and something else. Something she’d craved but denied for so long.
“Of course, you’re not in this alone. We both want something, so let’s pool our resources.”
Did she have any? Rose wasn’t sure. “I don’t need your help. Remember, it was me who saved your hide.”
He scrubbed a hand through his shaggy hair. The well-to-do man she’d met twenty-four hours ago had disappeared, replaced by the boy from the streets.
“Maybe it’s me who needs you. I’ve been away for years, and my contacts might not be around anymore.”
“You remembered Harry Biggins.”
A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Harry is hard to forget. A more hen-pecked rogue I’ve never met.”
Rose’s laughter joined his. “He is rather. The poor man.”
Nathan offered a pained expression. “What about me and my poor feet? Don’t I get any sympathy?”
Rose knew all along she wouldn’t say no to him, but she’d enjoyed this banter. It had always been like this. Nothing had changed.
But he had. He was worldly. A businessman. While she was an old maid who looked after her father.
“Hop on up.”
He joined her in an instant.
The journey back to Pickle Street took several hours, time filled with Nathan regaling her with amusing stories of America.
“The New World sounds an adventurous place.”
He leaned into her back. “You would love it, squirt. There are so many opportunities.”
“Ones you’ve obviously taken up.” She eased away from him for the umpteenth t
ime.
“Just because I was born on the streets doesn’t mean I have to stay there. Just like you wanted to learn a trade instead of being foisted off in marriage.”
She opened her mouth to speak, bitter words on the tip of her tongue. Nathan was right. She had wanted the independence of being able to earn her own money, and because of it had been considered different, difficult and unmarriageable.
Now she was twenty-six. But while she was skilled as a craftsman, it didn’t seem to be as exciting and didn’t fill the gaping hole she tried repeatedly to deny existed.
But it did.
She drew up outside the stables at the end of the small street where she lived and called out to Floyd, the blacksmith who’d tried repeatedly to court her. When he saw her, a smile lit his face and he put down his hammer. Then he spied Nathan sitting behind her, and Floyd’s eyes darkened.
Rose tried to ignore it. “Can you feed her and arrange for your brother, Jimmy, to take her back to the stable down by the Billingsgate Wharf, please?”
Floyd stiffened, still eyeballing Nathan. “Who’s he?”
Nathan dismounted and closed the gap between him and Floyd.
Rose’s breath hitched as she looked from one man to the other.
“Don’t you remember me, Floyd?” Nathan held out his hand. “Nathan Hawk.”
“So, the prodigal boy is back. Taking up your old life, Hawk? It might be difficult.” One side of his face twitched upward. “I hear the Raven is still in business.”
“So I heard as well.”
Floyd looked to Rose, and she sadly witnessed the softness returning to his expression. The man still wanted her, but he would never have her.
“Floyd, we need to go, we have—”
“Business to attend to,” Nathan cut in.
“Business with him?” Suspicion rode across Floyd’s face. “I thought better of you, Rose.”
“Yes, well, that has always been the problem, hasn’t it? You don’t really know me at all.” Rose quickly gave her remaining coins to Floyd, and, sidestepping Nathan, she headed back up the street to the small place she called home.
The moment she crossed the threshold, tears welled, exhaustion setting in. Her steps faltered on the bottom stair tread, and Nathan reached a hand around her waist. “Come on, squirt. Time to rest, I think.”
She turned to look at Nathan, and though she knew she should resist his help, resist wanting his touch, she was far too tired to do anything other than hold on to him.
“Rest? How can I, when even you said time is not on our side?”
“I know, but an hour’s rest is what we need to regroup.”
“Then what?”
“Then we hunt them down.”
“But who? We don’t know who they are.”
“We both saw the flag. That, at least, is a clue.”
“But my father left Zarrenburg years ago. He has no contact with anyone there.”
“That’s obviously not quite true. Come on, up you go.”
With leaden feet, Rose took the stairs to their tiny flat above the workshop. Fingers on the door handle, she stilled and turned to Nathan. “What did Floyd mean about your old life?”
It was as if blinkers came down. His expression suddenly became guarded. “Nothing. He’s just trying to rake up a past that no longer exists.”
“But he mentioned the Raven. How does that involve you?”
“It doesn’t.” Nathan’s tone was clipped. He reached past her and shoved the door open.
As Rose turned to go in, a gasp burst from her, followed by a wailing cry and the tears that she could no longer hold back. “Oh dear God. They’ve been back.” The place was worse than before. Obviously, they’d come back after taking her and Nathan. Everything lay in disarray. Rose stared balefully at the chaos.
* * * * *
“Nathan!” Ben drew the hotel room door wide. “Bloody hell, Nathan, you look as if you’ve been in the wars.”
Nathan stumbled into the deluxe hotel suite that he and Ben shared. He slumped to the sofa, uncaring that the muck on his clothes would dirty the plush velvet upholstery. “That pretty much describes the last twenty-four hours.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Ben reached for the crystal brandy decanter on a sideboard and filled two glasses. He passed one to Nathan. “You look as if you could do with this.”
Nathan emptied his glass in one hit, the blast of fiery liquid flaming his throat as it slid down. He held his glass out to Ben. “Another.”
Ben said nothing, though his brows rose skyward.
Glass replenished, Nathan eased back on the sofa as Ben sat opposite him.
“I would ask you how it goes, but your face tells a picture, and not a pretty one either.”
Nathan swirled the drink around in his glass, mesmerized for a moment by the sway of the liquor. “The guy who did it got it back doubly.”
“Glad to hear it. But what I really want to hear is that you’ve got the diamond back.”
Nathan lifted his gaze to Ben’s. “Unfortunately not…yet.”
“Shit!” Ben pushed up on strong legs and refilled his own glass. “That is not what I wanted to hear.”
“It isn’t what I wanted to tell you either. But…”
“But what, Nathan? Time is running out. I don’t think I can put the royal family off much longer. The princess wants me to display the locking system and take the bloody diamond out of the case right in front of the Queen of England… The Queen, for God’s sake. What the hell am I to do?”
“More of the same.”
“More what?”
“Put them off.” Nathan stood too, placing his once again empty glass on the sideboard. Ben picked up the crystal decanter, but Nathan waved a hand across his glass. “No more. I need a clear head.”
“What we need is the diamond.”
“I know, I know. It’s…” Nathan squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, wishing he could eradicate the damned saga. But when he reopened them, nothing had changed. “You said you’d been hobnobbing with Princess Mary.”
“It’s part of our promotion. People see us with royalty, knowing we’re protecting her precious jewels, and that way they’ll have faith in Steel Hawk.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Faith. Jesus, Nathan. The bloody diamond is a fake. How do I keep her away from it?”
“I don’t know. You’ll think of something.”
Frustration and rising panic surged inside Nathan’s gut. Ben was right. Time was running out. Quickly. He’d left Rosie behind after helping her pick up her ransacked home and ordered her to rest for an hour, but they couldn’t spare more than that. He needed more help from Ben. “You said you dined with the Zarrenburg royal family. What are they like?”
“What? Are you becoming a royal voyeur?”
“No. The princess is in London, and the news is that her son is coming soon. Any other members of the royal family present?”
“I believe her brother-in-law, Prince Randolph, is somewhere, but he wasn’t at the dinner. He was the younger brother.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much. He seems to stay in the background. What are you getting at, Nathan?”
Nathan frowned. “That’s just it, I’m not sure, yet. Just a hunch.”
“Care to expand on your hunch?”
“Let’s just say, keep your eyes and ears open, Ben, and if you find anything out, let me know.”
“And how do I do that, my friend? You’re off carousing through London, getting yourself beaten up.”
Nathan offered a faint smile, wincing as his cut lips split in the process. “Just be alert. If you hear anything you think interesting, get word to me at Harry Biggins’s pub, the Cock and Hen.” Nathan rose and turned toward the door that led to his room. “Now I need to clean up and change clothes, and get bac
k to Rosie.”
”Rosie! Rose Valetta. You’re with her? You’re meant to be finding the diamond, Nathan, not playing footsies with the woman. Bloody hell.” Ben jammed his hands in his trouser pockets. “For all we know, she stole the Pasha Star in the first place.”
“She didn’t.”
Ben’s gaze narrowed on him. Nathan knew that look. Ben was summing him up. Many a time they had sat across the business table from their competitors or companies they wanted to impress, and Ben got that look.
Nathan exhaled a hard sigh. “She didn’t steal it. She wants to get the bastards who did. They have her father. That’s all. She wants her father, and we want the diamond back.”
“Her father? What the hell for?”
“Alex Valetta is the supreme craftsman at making paste jewelry, so I would hazard a guess they want him to make a fake of the Pasha Star.”
Ben slammed a hand across his forehead. “Oh, sweet Jesus. So why the hell hang around her? She’ll give them the diamond to get her father back. You’re playing with fire, Nathan.”
“Play with Rosie? Hell, no, I’d surely get burned to a crisp.”
* * * * *
More than an hour later, bathed and refreshed and dressed in her rightful attire, Rose wandered around her small home.
Nathan had gone out for a while, saying he needed to get some clean clothes. To keep her mind occupied and not focused on whether Nathan would return, she righted chairs and collected the scattered books, caressing their covers. Reading was her love, her chance to escape. She gathered up the edition of Dickens that her mother had given her the year of her death and hugged it to her chest, shaking her head.
“Why?”
She sank into the faded tapestry chair, then pulled her legs up beneath her. Idly, her fingers caressed the tattered leather book cover, the inlay of gold lettering for the title long faded.
A strident hammering on the workshop door downstairs shattered the silence. Rose jumped from the seat.
Who was it? Had those men returned?
She backed up several steps, terror careering through her brain and holding her captive.
The hammering erupted again, a shout accompanying it. “Rosie, it’s me, open up.”
To Love a Thief (Steel Hawk) Page 8