Cat and Mouse

by Genella deGrey

  “And where do you fit in this scheme?”

  “It’s not a scheme. Charles is having me keep it safe.”

  “What will you do with your husband’s pages, stitch a bit of lace on each one?”

  She stared at him with a straight face and a dull look in her eye. “You know, you are so clever, Maxwell. Your humour is simply awe-inspiring.” He was just about to ask if she’d seen the elusive, short-haired girl when she spoke again. “For your information, Charles trusts me above anyone of our acquaintance.”

  Charles’ plan was solid, Max had to admit, but there were other matters occupying his mind tonight. “Well, all the best. Now I really need to get back to…”

  Susanna tilted her head when he paused, likely expecting him to continue. Which he didn’t. “Get back to…?”

  “Surveying…for pick-pockets…on behalf of Lady Frost. This being a public affair and all. She is concerned, you see.” He couldn’t stand fibbing to his sister, but more than a few precious moments—which could be better spent watching for his mouse in the crowd—were slipping through his fingers.

  “So watching for thieves is how you will be spending your evening? I believe that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” She huffed out a breath. “At least try to dance, especially if your two list-toppers make an appearance tonight.”

  If by list-toppers she meant the mouse, he’d gladly do so. “I promise.”

  She eyed him up and down. “For some odd, niggling reason—perhaps it is because you so readily agreed—I don’t believe you.”

  “Susanna—”

  “I’ve a mind to tell Charles to go on home without me and have you escort me there later.”

  “So that you can dance more freely with the gentlemen at this gala?” His intention of throwing her off the scent missed by at least a league.

  “No, so that I can make sure you do your duty and dance with Miss Boonsbury and Miss Wilson.”

  Max coughed out a harrumph.

  “If Charles agrees, I shall return to motivate you. And you’d best not disappoint me, brother.”

  “I need a reprieve. Come dance with me, Miss Katrina,” Jimmy murmured from behind her. Soft hairs that had fallen from her coiffeur onto her neck stirred at his breathed words and sent a wave of relaxation over her skin.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Indeed you should. It’s me, Jimmy, remember? And you must indulge your cousin at least once out of sheer politeness.”

  Katrina hid her grin behind a sigh. She slipped her dance card from her wrist and handed it to him. He in turn released his to her.

  “The last waltz in the set, I think.”

  “You know how to waltz, Jimmy?”

  “Me ma was a dancer—of sorts,” he said and scrawled his name across from the appropriate dance. “You’d be surprised at the things I know.”

  She doubted she’d be shocked at his disclosure and it likely shone in her eyes.

  “Come now. I haven’t been a pilfering scamp all my life.”

  Katrina signed her first name upon the line and each returned their card to the other.

  “Oh, and before I forget, I’ll need you to hold this for me.” He dug into his pocket, fished out a handful of something he kept concealed in his fist. “My trouser pockets are threadbare and I’m certain the weight of it will cause this evening’s take to escape through the fabric.”

  Her hand received what he offered and she quickly tossed it down the front of her gown. It was indeed weighty, but she’d carry it for her friend.

  “Mm. I’ll have to find more for you to cache for me.” He winked. “Come on then. Our dance is after this quadrille.”

  Max successfully avoided Miss Boonsbury and Miss Wilson by stationing himself between the back wall and one of the many tall potted ferns in the room. The décor in the Greco-Roman style seemed a bit out-dated but well done nonetheless. The semi-sheer swag draperies hung in layers from the ceiling, disguising corners as if the space stretched unremittingly like a parlour on Mount Olympus. He made to observe the style of the flooring. However, there were so many dancers about, it wasn’t easy to discern the placement of the marble tiles.

  A woman in a fashionable cream ball gown floated by, preoccupied with the waltz in which she was engaged. He absently admired the jewels in her dark hair and how they winked at him even in the modest candlelight.

  At once a temporary shock wave shot through his body.

  It was the mouse—and the young man with whom she danced was in danger of receiving a beating from Max, for he held her far too close.

  Chapter Six

  “I thank you, my lord.” Susanna dipped an elegant curtsey to her husband after he’d granted her the rest of the evening to spend with her brother. She left the parlour and squeezed through the crush on the way to the refreshment table where she’d last seen Maxwell.

  “Hello, Lady Kendrick.”

  “Why, Charity Wilson.” Susanna paused and smiled at the girl who topped her brother’s list of possible wives. “How are you this evening?”

  “I’d be better if I could find your brother.”

  “I’m on my way to meet him now. Would you care to join me?”

  “Oh, no. It is my understanding that men like to make chase, not the opposite.”

  “I see. Well, I’ll certainly put in a good word for you, dear. In fact, I’d be surprised if you weren’t engaged by season’s end. “

  “That would be lovely of you. M’ma says I couldn’t do better than Maxwell Courtland financially.” Charity made an elegant curtsey and Susanna nodded back.

  Upon her arrival at the refreshment table, Susanna noticed her brother’s absence immediately. “He’s done this on purpose. And it’s just like him to do so,” she murmured, feeling as if she were back in rompers again. Her brother had been a terrible tease, hiding her favourite dolls, fibbing about her parentage, telling her scary stories unitl she was unable to sleep—and that awful name he’d called her. Susanna nearly shuddered at the thought of him insisting his friends call her Stinker as well.

  Shaking off the sour memories, she scanned the room for Maxwell and tapped her toes to the tune of the waltz, albeit impatiently. There was no one within shouting distance whom she had an acquaintance with—or with whom she’d like to spend some time chatting. She lifted her elbow and reached around for her bag. If she had a few moments before Maxwell emerged, she could pull out one of her—

  Susanna’s breath filled her throat in a rush. Her reticule was gone.

  Katrina would’ve been happy to confess to Jimmy the fact that he was indeed an exceptional dancer if it wouldn’t have put the idea into his head that a flirtation was acceptable between them. His lead was such that he practically steered her across the floor, never once running into the other couples who whirled around them at different speeds.

  It had been so long since she had had any sort of vigorous exercise—notwithstanding the walking to and from the Den. Katrina acutely felt the heat of the room and its occupants as if they pressed at her from all sides. She lifted her chin to seek out a breath of fresh air when her gaze landed on a pair of startled green eyes.

  “Bloody hell,” came her strangled expletive.

  “What is it, love?” Jimmy asked as they whirled closer to the front of the ballroom.

  “I—” She swallowed hard. “I think there is someone here who recognises me.”

  “Bollocks. Let’s get you out o’ here.” As they hurried through the crush at the edge of the dance floor, Jimmy whispered, “Meet me five blocks east and five to the south. Don’t let anyone follow you.” Then he melted into the crowd.

  Without thinking, Katrina turned and slammed into a young woman whose eyes shimmered with tears.

  “Could you please help me?” She issued her plea directly to Katrina. “I think my reticule has been stolen.”

  Damnation. Am I wearing a badge that signifies me as a bobby for bloody sakes? “Miss, I cannot help you. I have troubles of my own
.” She made to turn away when the girl took hold of her arm.

  “But you must help me! I’ll be in the gravest of trouble if you don’t!”

  If anyone knew what it was like to need assistance and a friendly face it was Katrina. Before another thought could blossom, she took hold of the girl’s hand and yanked her through the breezeway, zigzagging around formerly attired attendants and out of the front door.

  Katrina pulled her along to weave in between and around people, carriages and horse leavings.

  “Where are we going?” the girl stammered from behind her.

  Retrieving an answer from who knew where, Katrina replied, “Somewhere we can talk in private.”

  “But I last had my reticule at the Frosts’—”

  Katrina ignored the girl’s plea and hastened her steps, dragging the chit behind her. It was the girl’s own fault. Had she not insisted that Katrina help her, she’d still be at the Frosts’ ball, annoying someone else.

  Just before they made the first turn heading south, Katrina slowed to take a peek behind them. A tall, brooding man, the very same one who’d found her walking this morning, was at least a block away, bounding towards them at a smart pace.

  “Shite,” Katrina cursed under her breath. She turned and sped up their pace.

  “I—I beg your pardon?” her new partner squeaked.

  “You’d better move those feet of yours if you want my help.”

  It was quite apparent that the girl wanted Katrina’s aid, for she practically ran ahead of her.

  A couple of houses before the corner where she was to meet Jimmy, she ducked into a small yard, searching for a place where she and her new hanger-on could hide. Thankfully, the residence and yard were substantial and the brick pathway continued alongside the house, deep into the shadows.

  “This way.” She pulled the girl along the side yard, their soft ball slippers like whispering taps upon the bricks amidst the swishing of satin skirts. They hurried past a precious set of heavy wrought-iron table and chairs painted white, which practically glowed against the darkness. Oh, to have the luxury of the occasion for a garden tea back in her life, Katrina mused briefly. They continued along the hedgerow speckled with tiny light-coloured flowers and passed a fountain adorned with cherubs. After turning on the path that led behind the house she stopped, peeked around the corner whence they’d come and waited, both of them panting like a couple of racehorses.

  “Be extremely quiet for a few moments.” She barely got the words out when she saw the man run in and out of her view of the street.

  Katrina heaved in a breath and let it out in utter relief. “Thank heavens.” He hadn’t seen them duck into the yard.

  “What was so urgent that we had to flee?” the girl whispered to Katrina.

  “I—” Katrina thought to appeal to her new friend’s feminine sensibilities. “I’m avoiding an unwanted encounter with a certain gentleman.”

  “Oh my. From whom do you run?”

  Katrina felt her cheeks heat in her embarrassment. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t actually know his name.”

  “Ah. One of those. I understand completely. Had a couple in my day.”

  Katrina took a closer look at the girl at her side and nearly laughed. A couple? With her large, wide set eyes, sweet feminine voice and porcelain skin, there was no question as to why men would have found her attractive. However, she seemed extraordinarily youthful to have suffered too many situations. “You couldn’t be more than, what, nineteen or twenty?”

  “Twenty-one this summer, but I assure you, before my brother, Maxwell, intervened and found me a suitable match, undesirable men buzzed around me like flies.” She shuddered.

  “Come. Let me see if he’s gone.” Katrina inched her way towards the front of the residence, keeping close to the wall in case he retraced his steps. At the corner she backed the girl up against the house with an outstretched arm and peeked around, trying to keep the entirety of her body concealed.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Stay hidden. He’s…lurking.”

  “Oh, dear.” The girl pressed herself against the wall as if she wanted to sink into the brick façade.

  In actuality, her pursuer had found Jimmy as he waited for her on the corner. It looked like the stranger had engaged her partner in conversation. In order for Jimmy not to look suspicious, she was sure he was forced to accommodate the nosey bugger. Damnation, if he wasn’t in the midst of interrogating Jimmy as he had her that very morning…

  “How long do you think he’ll choose to lurk?”

  “There’s no telling.”

  A few moments of silence fell between them while Katrina watched Jimmy converse with the man. Jimmy’s expertly casual stance didn’t fool her for a moment. He was a sly genius, but Katrina could distinguish his method of placation from all the time they’d spent together observing people’s public faces and tells.

  The girl tapped Katrina on the shoulder and whispered. “I know this is terribly against proper decorum, but my name is Lady Susanna Kendrick. I am the wife of Lord Charles Kendrick.”

  Katrina turned to the girl. “I—” the situation was getting more complicated by the moment. “You can call me Miss Katrina.”

  “Oh, but—” she paused for a moment then continued. “Then please call me Susanna.”

  She presented her newest acquaintance a nod in lieu of a curtsey and returned her attention to the corner across the street. Her pursuer was in the process of lighting a cigar, then held the flame for Jimmy.

  A groan escaped from between Katrina’s lips.

  “What is it now?”

  “I believe we’ve been granted some time to get acquainted.” Katrina led Susanna down the path to where the garden chairs sat and together they lowered themselves to the seats. “Now, tell me. What was so important back there at the ball?”

  “Oh, it’s just awful. My reticule has been stolen.”

  “That’s what all—” Katrina subdued the snide remark and cleared her throat. “How do you know you didn’t just leave it somewhere accidentally? The cloakroom, for instance.”

  “I would never do such a thing! I had personal items therein that mean the world to me.”

  “We all carry items of that nature on our persons. Are you certain—?”

  “Begging your pardon, Miss Katrina,” she interrupted with the utmost politeness. “You see, my husband entrusted me with an article he’s written—a very important article that will directly affect his—our future.” Lady Susanna let out an exasperated sigh. “And there is more.”

  “Let me guess. Letters from your lover?”

  Lady Susanna’s eyes went wide. “Bite your tongue, Miss Katrina! I happen to be very much in love with my Charles.”

  Katrina patted Lady Susanna’s hand in contrition. “I do apologise. What else did you have in your reticule?”

  “Well…” Lady Susanna seemed reluctant to answer until she all but burst out with her answer. “A small but cherished stack of Halfpenny Marvels.” Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as if expecting a scathing reprimand from Katrina.

  A grin threatened, but Katrina quelled it. “You mean those sensationalistic little serial books?”

  “Good God.” She groaned. “It sounds so lurid when you say it like that!”

  Katrina swallowed what would surely be looked upon as an insulting bark of laughter. “Lady Susanna—are you truly afraid that people will find out you enjoy reading?”

  The girl shook her head. “It’s not that at all. While I admit reading for a woman isn’t very fashionable at the moment, it’s what I read that the ton won’t understand. If they found out, I’d be ruined socially and my husband would never forgive me for it. You see, my Marvels aren’t at all the thing.” She sighed wistfully. “But I do so enjoy a juicy detective story.”

  Lady Susanna launched into a detailed version of one of her Marvels, while Katrina’s mind wandered. She imagined
Jimmy would likely give up waiting for her at some point—and that would mean she’d have to make it back to the Den alone. Again.

  Chapter Seven

  “Pardon the unsolicited enquiry, sir, but didn’t I see you at the Frosts’ ball not a quarter-hour ago?”

  Jimmy’s first impression of the man’s question raised significant suspicions, but the sincerity in the friendly manner with which it was delivered sent another message all together. He saw no harm in answering so he blew out a lungful of smoke. “I was.”

  “Tell me, how well do you know the woman with whom you last danced?” Then he pressed his lips together and drew on his cigar.

  “You mean my sister?” Jimmy smiled inwardly. So, this chap had been observing him, eh? Probably some runner from Bow Street. Well, he’d get no information this night.

  The man puffed out a laugh accompanied by cigar smoke. “Do you always hold your siblings so closely?”

  “I’ll give you that.” He shrugged and lifted the cigar to his mouth. “She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “I won’t argue with you in that regard. I’m just curious about her—where she comes from, why she left so abruptly.”

  He turned to fully face the stranger and tossed the half-finished cigar into the street. The glowing orange end exploded and smouldered out. “I wonder, though, what is it you want of her?”

  “Nothing untoward, I assure you.”

  “Mmm,” Jimmy answered, his disbelief ringing in the wordless retort.

  “Like you said, she’s a beautiful woman.”

  Jimmy didn’t answer. And whoever this fellow was didn’t matter. Jimmy wasn’t in the habit of spilling narrative about anyone involved with the Den.

  “Well, the night is young. I’ll be on my way, then.”