by Darcy Burke
“I have but one caveat,” she said. “You’ll need to give me a portion of what you find.”
Fox’s thoughts came to a sudden and thorough halt. “What?”
“Lord Norris owes money to the local orphanage, and I mean to ensure they get it.” She came closer, stopped so near him her breath tickled his chin. “So, you see, I’ll help you steal his money, but I want a portion. For the orphanage.”
He’d never wanted to kiss her more.
Too late he noticed the bright splash of light spilling under the door. A hand on the knob.
Bloody hell. No time to run. No time to hide. Only time to take off his mask.
And, though it hadn’t been his intent, to compromise her at last.
THE door behind her opened. Miranda froze, riveted on the highwayman. As he pulled the mask from his face, candlelight illuminated his features.
Fox.
She blinked.
Fox.
She sucked in a breath.
Fox?
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. She simply couldn’t keep the shock from escaping. And she’d been moments from kissing him again only to stop herself because she’d been thinking of Fox instead of the highwayman. Except Fox was the highwayman.
Wasn’t he?
“What the devil is going on here?”
Miranda spun about, her heart colliding with her lungs at the sight of Lord Norris clutching an oil lamp in the doorway. Then her heart and every other piece of her insides plummeted to her feet as she saw who stood behind him, surprise and disappointment etched in his face. Jasper.
“I say again, what are you about in my office—Foxcroft? I don’t recall inviting you this evening.”
Jasper pushed past Lord Norris and strode into the room. “If you aren’t a guest, what the hell are you doing closeted in the dark with my sister?”
Fox looked from Jasper to Lord Norris to Miranda and then back to Jasper again. What could he say? He’d come to steal from the earl?
Miranda stepped toward Jasper. “He came here to see me.” She spoke without thinking of anything but preventing Fox getting caught.
Jasper turned on her, his eyes hard. “You made some sort of assignation with him here, of all places?”
Lord Norris hadn’t stopped staring at Fox. “No. I think Fox had another objective in coming here. Didn’t you, my boy?” The earl’s round, bobbling eyes narrowed, though it seemed impossible for them to do so.
Fox looked at Miranda, raised one brow the tiniest fraction as if asking her what he should do. Quickly, she had to choose: save him and in the course ruin herself, or…let Norris continue. Time stretched with three pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for her to be savior or executioner. Jasper’s brows gathered, reminding her too much of their father.
She was a coward.
Norris gestured toward the window. Barely open, it still provided adequate evidence as to how Fox had entered the office. “He came in through there. What kind of man sneaks into a party to steal a moment with a woman? No, he came here to steal from me because he thinks I owe him something.” He shook his head while his thick upper lip curled. “I warned you, Fox.” The earl glanced at Jasper. “I think if you search his person, you’ll find at least a few thousand of my pounds.”
Fox held up his hands. “I’ve got nothing of yours, Norris.”
Lord Norris grinned maliciously. “Then you won’t mind Lord Saxton taking a look.” He gestured at Jasper to do as he bade.
Miranda’s gut twisted. What would he find?
Jasper stood before Fox. He looked marginally less angry than when he arrived, but his face was still drawn with tension. “Empty your pockets.”
Fox held Jasper’s gaze, a tic pulsing in his jaw. A moment passed before he reached inside his coat and pulled out…nothing. “That’s my only pocket.”
“Mind if I check it?” Jasper put his hand forward.
Fox raised his arms perpendicular to his body.
“What’s that?” Lord Norris pointed at a bulge in Fox’s right sleeve.
Fear raced along Miranda’s spine.
Jasper grabbed Fox’s arm. He reached up his sleeve and pulled out…the mask.
“Aha!” Lord Norris crowed. “He’s here to steal all right. With a mask!” He pursed his fat lips for a second. “Wonder if he’s the highwayman who, ah, never mind.”
Jasper turned to face her. “Wait, weren’t you held up by a highwayman on your way to Wootton Bassett last June, Miranda?”
Miranda’s heart sank. “Yes. But I don’t think it was Fox.”
The earl’s eyes were round as her pearl earrings. “You don’t think? Well, what would you know, gel? He wore a mask, didn’t he?”
Miranda opened her mouth to say she’d know the highwayman’s kiss anywhere, but she’d never kissed Fox. Even so, she knew in her bones they were the same person, that all this time she’d been attracted to not two different men, but one. Fox.
How could he be a thief? Tears pricked her eyes as Fox dropped his arms to his sides. He didn’t look the least bit defeated. No, he looked defiant, the gold centers of his eyes flaming in the dim light.
Jasper held the mask out. “Have you nothing to say, Foxcroft?”
“Not to you.” Fox glared at Lord Norris, sparing not so much as a glance for either Jasper or her.
“I’ll notify the mayor.” Lord Norris clucked his tongue. “Damned shame. What will happen to those poor orphans after you’re transported, Fox?” He turned to address Jasper. “I’d rather not interrupt my party with this nonsense. Might as well lock him up in the stables overnight.”
Miranda whirled to face the earl. “The stables? Surely that isn’t necessary! He didn’t steal anything!”
“Maybe not tonight, but I’m willing to bet he stole from Carmody and who knows what else he’s done. And he entered my house unlawfully with the intent to thieve. Sorry, my dear, but the law doesn’t allow for people like him.”
“You hypocritical son of a bitch.” It sounded as if Fox had growled the words. His hands were fisted at his sides, and a vein throbbed in his neck. Miranda wanted to wrap her arms around him. God, if only she’d said they were having an assignation!
She turned pleading eyes on her brother. “Jasper, do something!”
Jasper’s eyes softened briefly. Nevertheless he took Fox’s arm. “Where do you want me to take him, Norris?”
“No!” Miranda grabbed Fox’s other arm as if she’d tug him away from her much stronger brother. “You can’t take him. He hasn’t done anything.”
Jasper turned to Lord Norris. “It’s true he didn’t steal anything from you.”
“Just because you didn’t find it doesn’t mean he didn’t take anything. Maybe he threw it outside.” The earl pushed open the window and looked below. “There, I see something on the ground.”
“It’s my cloak. I didn’t take anything.” Fox had never sounded so cold, so removed.
“If what you say is true, which I don’t think it is, I’d wager the only reason you’re empty-handed is because you were interrupted. I’ll have someone go out and fetch whatever it is.”
Panic bubbled in Miranda’s throat. “If you don’t find anything, you can’t prove he took anything. Isn’t that right, Jasper?”
Lord Norris shook his head emphatically. “It doesn’t matter. He still stole from Carmody.”
Miranda wanted to claw the earl’s bulbous eyes out. “But you can’t prove it!”
Jasper stared at her. “Can you prove he wasn’t the highwayman?”
Wildly, Miranda cast about for a response. She couldn’t say she just knew. That she’d been rather intimate with both men and knew them to be different—never mind this was an outright lie since they were the same bloody man! She’d just begun to make progress with her family and this would kill all of it.
Defeat slumped her shoulders. “No.” She chanced a look at Fox and cringed at the stark disappointment in his eyes.
“Let�
��s go, then.” Jasper pulled Fox into the hallway. Miranda followed close behind. Her brother turned a weary gaze on her. “Go back to the party, Miranda.”
She wanted to argue, but didn’t dare. Fox stood half-turned from her and said nothing. What did she expect? For him to absolve her and simply march to his doom?
Lord Norris stepped in front of Jasper. “This way. We’ll take him out through the back.”
Miranda stood rooted to the floor as she watched her brother haul Fox away. Emotion clogged her throat until it ached. Transportation? Would they really send him to a penal colony? And what would happen to Stipple’s End? Horror ate away at her insides until she felt hollow. She had to find a way to stop this.
But as far as she could tell, the best way, the easiest way—perhaps the only way—would be to sacrifice what little reputation she had left.
FURY coursed through every vein in Fox’s body until he feared he might burst. She could have saved him if only she’d claimed he’d come to see her, that they’d plotted the secret meeting. Norris likely wouldn’t have believed it, but everyone else could have been convinced. And to think he’d felt guilty about having contemplated compromising her. Now he wished he’d just done it without a backward glance.
They entered a servants’ hallway and immediately came upon a footman. Norris directed the man to get help and search the ground outside the windows of his office. He then asked him to send Stratham to the stables. Hell’s teeth, but this night couldn’t get any worse.
They exited the house. The stable lay a few hundred yards away. Norris addressed Miranda’s brother. “I’ll ask Carmody to come by in the morning and verify Fox is the highwayman who robbed him. Then we’ll turn Foxcroft over to the mayor.”
Saxton’s grip remained strong. “What if Carmody can’t identify him? Miranda bore witness and, ah, had reason to be quite close to the criminal. If she says Fox isn’t the highwayman, you’ll have conflicting testimony from two witnesses.”
Norris’s breath came in gasps as he waddled faster to keep up. “Bah. She’s just a silly chit. No one will believe her.”
Saxton looked down at the squat earl with an arrogance Fox recognized from Miranda. “I beg your pardon, Lord Norris, she’s the daughter of a duke.” His tone dripped cold enough to freeze the River Wylye.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Norris nearly panted now. He slowed his lumbering gait while he spoke. “I only meant she couldn’t possibly know. Not unless she saw him unmasked or got close enough to see something of his features despite the mask.”
Fox wondered if Saxton would elaborate. It seemed he knew she’d kissed the highwayman, but he said nothing. Apparently preserving Miranda’s precious reputation was worth any cost. To anyone.
They reached the stable, and with it the pungent odor of the earl’s horses. Lanterns illuminated the interior where two grooms hurried to cast aside their tools and stand straight to receive Norris and his guests. Fox noted Freddie was one of the grooms. The boy had grown since Fox had seen him last, but he would be nearing twenty by now. He gave Fox a fleeting glance that likely no one else caught.
After catching his breath somewhat, Norris addressed the older groom. “Lock this man in the tack room.” He gestured toward Fox.
The groom nodded and went to a door between two stalls. He held it open and waited for Saxton to lead Fox inside. Norris followed them. Once inside the tack room, Norris turned to Saxton. “Thank you, Lord Saxton. I’ll take things from here.”
Saxton looked as if he were going to object, but gave a slight nod and departed.
Norris closed the door and finally set down the lamp he’d been clutching since he’d walked into the office. “There’s no point in pretense, Fox. I am well aware you came here tonight to take the money for the tapestries. Foolish notion, that, but I can credit your daring, to be sure.” He chuckled and Fox wanted to wipe the smug smirk from the man’s greasy, fat face. “Unfortunately, they’ll find money in your cloak, and then it’ll be hanging. Transportation if you’re lucky.”
“They’ll find nothing in my cloak, Norris. Not unless you put it there.” Genuine fear iced his neck.
“Now, now, there you go with your accusations again. They’d be so much more valuable if you had anything to back them up. But I have to assume you do not, else you would have said as much in front of Lord Saxton. Careful what you say now, you’re soon to be recognized as a criminal.”
Norris would ensure Fox’s formal arrest and the subsequent trial for his crimes, including the one he hadn’t committed tonight. His mind raced, searching for a way to turn the tables somehow. “I’ll prove you’ve been extorting money for years, how you bleed this district until people barely have enough to eat.”
For the first time, alarm registered on the earl’s face. He mopped a hand over his sweat-laden brow. “You stole the money from Stratham, didn’t you? I was certain he lied, that he’d taken the money himself.”
Victory, however small, burgeoned in Fox’s chest. At last the man admitted his sins. So Stratham had reported the robbery to Norris. But how could Fox tie that money—all of which was gone—to their extortion scheme? He didn’t know, but he’d figure out a way. In the meantime, he offered a cagey smile. “Yes, I took the money. My actions were no worse than what you’re doing.”
Norris’s chest puffed out and Fox expected the earl’s lemon yellow waistcoat to pop open. “I didn’t steal from anyone. Those people gave me money in exchange for a service.”
Fox wondered if Norris actually worked to satisfy the interests of his constituents in the district. “I have a hard time believing you would do anything that wouldn’t serve you, regardless of the money involved. Would it be difficult, do you suppose, to find a person who’s been forced to pay you? And might that person be convinced to testify against you?”
Norris’s eyes bulged and he sputtered. “No one would be so foolish. Besides, what can you hope to accomplish from in here?” The earl’s lip curled, but his eyes reflected a shade of fear.
Eager to further sow the seeds of doubt, Fox lifted a shoulder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
A knock on the door interrupted further conversation. Norris called, “Enter.”
Stratham poked his head inside. Without looking at Fox, he addressed the earl. “You sent for me, Lord Norris?” What, no taunting remark directed at Fox? No obnoxious show of power or self-importance?
Norris picked up his lamp. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve caught the highwayman who stole from you.”
Stratham’s widening eyes moved to Fox. “You?” His mouth continued to move, but no sound escaped.
Fox refused to admit to anything. He did, however, enjoy a measure of satisfaction at Stratham’s reaction.
The earl lumbered his corpulent frame toward Stratham. “Sleep tight, Fox. Come morning you’ll be transferred to the mayor.”
The door closed behind them, and the chill darkness of the tack room embraced Fox. He hadn’t heard the lock—maybe they’d stupidly leave him in here without securing it. He crept to the door and listened. The voices outside faded, as if Norris and Stratham were retreating to the house. Perhaps Freddie would be able to help him.
After another moment of quietly pressing his ear to the door, Fox straightened. Just as he did so, the wood pushed against him, nearly knocking him off balance. Light cascaded into the room once more and illuminated the face of Miranda’s brother. He carried a lantern with a tallow candle into the room and closed the door behind him.
Fox had a suspicion about this visit, but remained silent. Saxton set the lantern on an overturned bucket and faced Fox. The meager light of the single flame so low to the ground cast his face in eerie shadow. Nevertheless, the man’s anger was evident in the set of his chin and narrowed eyes.
“Just what in the hell is going on between you and my sister? She claims you are nothing to her, but I keep finding you in close quarters.”
Fox chose his words carefully. “Why don’t you
believe her?”
He gave Fox a look that seemed to ask, are you simple? “Because she’s Miranda. Don’t you understand why she was banished here in the first place? She’d been cavorting around London with a group of miscreants—wealthy and even some of them titled miscreants, but fools the lot of them. I won’t bore you with the specifics, but our parents expelled her from London after she was observed on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall with a certain gentleman. I’m sure you’re well aware of what occurs on the Dark Walk so I needn’t explain.”
“Actually, I’ve never been to Vauxhall.” But Fox suspected upon hearing the tale he’d want to kill that Certain Gentleman.
“Well, then let me enlighten you. Well-respected young daughters of dukes do not take the Dark Walk with lascivious bounders interested in a bit of fluff and perhaps a large dowry. But Miranda, in all of her foolishness, not only went with this man, but engaged in a rather lurid embrace. Thankfully the witness was a close family friend, and we were able to prevent the story from leaking to London at large. It would have been an absolute calamity.”
That explained her experienced kisses. Yes, he definitely wanted to kill the Certain Gentleman. And he wanted to throttle Miranda as well. Had she no sense at all?
Saxton continued, “So you can see why I am suspicious of your relationship with my sister. It’s seems obvious to me you want her—whether for her beauty or her money, I don’t know. Not that it matters since she isn’t eligible to someone like you.”
Of all the arrogant jackasses. Fox sneered, unable to keep his anger in check. “Someone like me? What does that mean, exactly? I’m poor? Or I run an orphanage? I’m not titled? Or is it that I live here instead of your beloved London?”
Saxton’s stony stare yielded nothing. “All of those things, if you must know. If Miranda has shown you any interest, it’s because she likes a challenge, and more than that she enjoys tweaking convention. You are the worst possible gentleman for her, and so she finds some perverse pleasure in engaging your attention.”