The Devil's Thief, page 12
“I hope you feel the same about Covent Garden,” Julianna replied with a bit more sarcasm than was polite, “because that is where we are going first.”
He seemed pale and out of sorts this morning, no doubt a result of last night’s drinking, she supposed. His face lost a little more color at her declaration.
“Are we? Shopping for food today, hmm? I find the thought is perhaps not as pleasing as another errand might be.”
“I daresay the walk will do you good, Mr. Templeton,” she told him piously. “You needn’t accompany me, you know.”
“We insist,” Alasdair drawled.
Julianna had planned to drop the fish off at the foundling home before doing her other shopping. She was vexed that now she could not. “Then you shall have to share the carriage with the fish,” she told them, and watched with satisfaction as Mr. Templeton’s face blanched again.
“We do not wish to crowd you in the carriage, Miss Harte,” Mr. Templeton quickly told her.
“And we have no need to,” Alasdair added. “We rode our own mounts and can follow the carriage.” He looked so smug that Julianna wished she had a response to put him in his place, but she couldn’t think of a thing.
“Of course you can,” she said flatly. She’d meant it more as a sardonic set down, but they took it as agreement.
Tessa took a seat across from her in the carriage and didn’t ask any questions, thankfully. She’d probably decided that her mistress was beyond hope. Julianna watched Alasdair surreptitiously through the window as he rode next to the carriage. He was one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. But she knew what he was like in the dark, too, without the dazzling distraction of his looks. And it was that man—the teasing, laughing, passionate lover—that she desired. He was in there somewhere. But she’d taken his most valuable treasure and he would never be able to forgive her. He’d proven that last night. For some inexplicable reason he still desired her, but it was not a welcome thing. He was as angry about his inability to resist her as he was about her larceny. She did not like being something that a man hated himself for. It was quite lowering.
When they reached Covent Garden, Julianna still had no plan. She was so nervous she had to clasp her hands together so that Alasdair wouldn’t see them shaking when she got out of the carriage. Did he mean to spend the whole day with her? What he meant as punishment was her idea of heaven, if a bit inconvenient. If only he wouldn’t glare at her so. And if only she wasn’t spending the ill-gotten money she’d made from selling the pearl. That put a decided damper on her enjoyment of his company.
“Where to first?” he asked matter-of-factly after the two men dismounted. They left their horses with her father’s coachman and they walked in the direction of the multitude of haphazard stalls and sheds that made up the market. It was so noisy that he had to step close and lean down to speak in her ear. The touch of his hand on her arm and the warmth of his breath on her ear made her own breathing hitch and she stumbled. When she darted a glance at him, she was surprised to notice that a bit of warmth had seeped into his gaze, helping dispel the coolness that had been there earlier.
She couldn’t speak. She just swallowed and pointed, the direction irrelevant. He smiled and placed her hand on his arm.
“Why are we here?” he asked a few moments later. They had done nothing but walk around aimlessly, staring at the produce on display. He shook his head at a vendor who was headed their way with a brace of carrots and the woman turned in the other direction, yelling at another passerby instead.
“I am buying food.” She could see her answer did not satisfy him.
“Why? Does Lady Linville not trust her servants to do the shopping for her household? Surely the housekeeper or cook’s assistant could do the shopping?”
She tried to detect a note of accusation in his tone, but there was none. He seemed genuinely curious. She glanced back and noticed Mr. Templeton offering an orange to Tessa, who blushed and smiled as she took it, with Thomas frowning behind them.
“I do some work for several charities,” she answered truthfully, but vaguely. “I am actually buying provisions for one of the charity houses I sponsor.”
He stopped short for a moment, and then resumed their leisurely stroll among the stalls. “Ah, charitable work. The refuge of the bored young lady.”
Julianna bristled. “I do not offer my assistance out of boredom, Mr. Sharp, but in response to a deep need I see among the poor of London.”
“There have always been poor, Julianna,” he told her not unkindly, “and there always will be. I am sure they appreciate your efforts, but your work is but a drop in the empty well of need.”
“And that is the attitude of a jaded, self-absorbed aristocrat,” she accused him, unable to feign a calmness she didn’t feel.
“Is that why you took my pearl?” he asked casually as he reached out and picked up an orange, bringing it to his nose and inhaling its fragrance with closed eyes and a smile. When she didn’t answer, he opened his eyes and set the orange down. “Because I am self-absorbed and you feel that I should pay for the circumstances of my birth with the loss of that which is dear to me?” It was more of a prompt than a question.
Julianna shook her head, afraid she had given too much away. She tried to start walking again, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. When he had her attention, he motioned to the woman selling the oranges. “How many?” he asked Julianna.
She worried her lip a moment. “Twenty-five,” she finally answered.
Alasdair’s brow rose. “That many?” He nodded at the woman and she began to box the oranges for them. Alasdair paid her and Thomas picked up the box and took it to her carriage.
“Thank you,” Julianna said as they both watched Thomas walk away.
“What did I really do, Julianna?” She looked at him and she could see pity in his eyes. “I have paid for some oranges, which will be a treat for the poor you sponsor. But I have not changed their circumstances substantially.”
The hopelessness of it all suddenly swamped her. He was right. She had stolen the pearl to pay the rent, but for what? So the children would have a roof over their heads until she ran out of money again? Would she have to steal again? Take some other innocent victim’s treasured possessions? Or would she have to close the home? It was already full, and more needy children came knocking every day. They had to turn them away, which broke her heart. She knew she was trying to fill the well one drop at a time, knew that it was an impossible task. And she had known it all along. Was that why she had concocted this ludicrous scheme and stolen his pearl? To disguise the truth from herself?
A tear slid down her cheek as she stared at him, and he reached out and tenderly wiped it away with his thumb. “I did not mean to put that despair in your eyes,” he whispered. “I only meant to warn you to protect your heart. If you take on the troubles of the world, you will break under the burden. Do not let the world break you, Julianna.”
She had no response. She turned away and began walking again, blind to her surroundings. Alasdair took her arm and guided her.
If he knew the poverty and hopelessness she’d seen, young girls who through ignorance or violence found themselves with child …
Her mind, along with her feet, stumbled to a halt. She’d been with Alasdair. She could be carrying his child right now. How could she have been so stupid? She saw the ramifications of such loose behavior in the foundling home, and yet she hadn’t thought about it once, not either time. All she’d been able to think about was having him inside her.
“Are you sore?” he asked. His voice was pitched very low, and he had leaned down quite close to her. “You have stumbled more than once today.”
Julianna was so dumbfounded at her foolishness that it took her a moment to register his meaning. Then she blushed. He was asking how she felt after their encounter last night. She shook her head.
“I’d be surprised if you were not.” He sounded as if the memory was pleasing, and Julianna darted a glance at him. He was looking at her heatedly. She had not misinterpreted his reaction, then. She looked away and continued her slow stroll.
“I took you rather roughly,” he added, a dark edge to his voice.
“Yes, you did,” she agreed, barely able to speak through the desire and embarrassment and confusion swamping her.
“I am not sorry.” His voice was ragged, his hand tightening on her arm.
“Neither am I,” she whispered, and she meant it. In spite of everything, in spite of her new fear that she might be carrying his child, she could not regret having known him intimately. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down between her breasts and she shivered.
They had stopped again and stood staring at each other. Julianna wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and devour him. From the way his cheeks were flushed and his breathing ragged she rather suspected he felt the same.
“Is there a problem?” Mr. Templeton asked as he came up to them. He smiled mildly but his look was perceptive.
“No.” Alasdair didn’t look away as he answered. Julianna couldn’t break their gaze either.
“Are we done here?” Mr. Templeton asked.
“Yes,” Julianna said decisively. Everything had changed now, not just the situation between her and Alasdair, but also her plans for the pearl.
“No treasure then?” Mr. Templeton inquired teasingly.
Alasdair’s shoulders stiffened and he frowned. Julianna’s heart sank when he looked away from her.
“If I had found a treasure, I would have shared my good fortune with Mr. Sharp,” she replied, willing him to understand what she was saying, even though she wasn’t completely sure what that was.
“As long as I am the only one to share it,” he replied drily. “Spreading a treasure around makes each share worth that much less.”
It took her a confused moment to figure out what he was referring to. When she realized he was talking about her imaginary lover from their argument last night, she was astounded. Did he really believe she had another lover? She cringed at his low opinion of her. But could she expect anything more? Ladies simply did not do the things they had done together. He was justified to think her no better than a strumpet. But it still hurt.
She turned away bleakly, her eyes stinging. “Rest assured, Mr. Sharp, that there is no one else interested in any treasure I may have.”
Mr. Templeton had been silently observing their exchange and now he spoke. “I find that very hard to believe, Miss Harte.” When she cast an inquisitive look his way, she couldn’t read the expression on his face. He looked between her and Alasdair. “I think Sharp had better be very careful that your treasure does not slip through his fingers.”
The last stop of the day was a cloth merchant in Piccadilly. After Alasdair promised to see Julianna and her maid home, her footman headed off in the carriage with the food she’d purchased.
When Julianna went into the shop, Alasdair and Roger settled themselves on a bench outside a coffeehouse across the street. Neither man wished to be seen wiling away their time in a cloth shop. Alasdair coughed as a curricle rushed by, dust flying in its wake. Roger waved his hand in front of his face before taking a big bite of the apple he’d bought earlier. He chewed loudly and took another noisy bite, which earned an annoyed look from Alasdair.
“What?” Roger asked peevishly. “I’m starving. It isn’t my fault you dragged me onto the harsh streets of London with no breakfast.”
“You looked decidedly ill at the mention of food not too long ago,” Alasdair reminded him.
Roger shrugged and took another bite. Alasdair’s mouth watered and he wished that he’d thought to buy an apple, too. After he swallowed, Roger gestured across the street with his apple and Alasdair’s eyes followed it. “What do you hope to accomplish here, Sharp?”
The day had grown uncomfortably warm, and Alasdair was tired, hungry, and irritable. He hadn’t been able to look at Julianna all morning without being tormented by visions of last evening’s blistering encounter. “What do you mean?”
“We are following a woman on her household errands through the streets of London hoping that she might suddenly remember she meant to visit her favorite receiver today, and merrily lead us to the pearl.” Roger looked at him wryly. “Is it just me or does that sound a little implausible?”
“If you wish to go home, Roger, or at least back to Hil’s, do not let my motives or predicament impede you.” Alasdair waved in the general direction of Hil’s apartments. “Go on, and fair thee well.”
Roger grinned at him and took another bite of apple. He chewed while holding his steady gaze on Alasdair until Alasdair squirmed and glared at him. “Leave? And miss all this excitement?” Roger said. “Don’t be foolish, man. The thought never crossed my mind. I daresay Hil is not finding nearly as much amusement in his search for clues.”
Alasdair trained his eyes on the pedestrians walking along both sides of the street. Was she supposed to meet someone? Is that why she had insisted on stopping here? Was she waiting inside, thinking she’d fooled everyone, anticipating a tryst with some other lover?
“Well, there isn’t a great deal to look at around here,” Roger commented, “but I’d hardly say it’s unpleasant enough to cause that look on your face.”
“Who is he?” Alasdair growled. As irrational as it was, he couldn’t seem to stop his jealousy.
Roger stopped in mid-motion, the apple halfway to his mouth. “Who is who?”
“Her lover.” Alasdair practically spit the words out. In his mind’s eye he saw Julianna in an intimate embrace with some faceless stranger, murmuring words of love.
Roger stared at him incredulously. “I was under the impression that you were.”
Alasdair stood up and paced the pavement in front of Roger. “Oh, yes, I’m one of them. But one of how many?” He was gesturing angrily, and he nearly slapped a poor, hapless passerby in the nose.
“Here now!” the stranger exclaimed. “Watch yourself, sir.” He was an older gentleman and he frowned at Alasdair over his shoulder as he thumped his walking stick on the ground and stalked off.
Alasdair was mortified. He pointed at the gentleman with a shaking finger. “Did you see that?” he asked Roger. “Do you see what she has done to me? I am a shell of my former self. If I do not get that pearl back, Roger, the Alasdair Sharp you have known will cease to exist. This”—he waved a hand wildly up and down in front of his person—“this madman will take his place permanently.”
“ ‘Alas poor Romeo!’ ” Roger quoted dramatically. “ ‘He is already dead; stabbed with a white wench’s black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft.’ ” He took a crackling bite of apple and watched Alasdair, his eyes twinkling and his eyebrows wagging.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Roger swallowed audibly. “It means,” he said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his fingers clean, “that it is not the lost treasure you seek, but the unexpected treasure you have found that has you acting like a madman, my friend.”
“You speak nonsense, just as Mercutio did to Romeo,” Alasdair scoffed, while breaking out into a cold sweat.
“Wasn’t there something in that scene about hiding your bauble in a hole?” Roger mused aloud.
“Would you stop quoting that bloody play?” Alasdair said between clenched teeth.
Roger grinned mischievously. “I did not give you the alias Romeo,” he said smugly. “Nor did I name your lady love Juliet.”
“Her name is Julianna,” Alasdair said with a heavy heart, remembering that he had no right to call her that now.
“And you believe your own dear Julianna has been entertaining Paris behind your back?”
Alasdair nodded, then stopped, confused. “Wait. Which one was Paris?”
Roger laughed. “Her betrothed, who she betrayed when she married and screwed that little bugger Romeo.”
“Did he die, too?” Alasdair asked. “I had too damn much to drink last night for an examination on Shakespeare today.”
“Um-hmm,” Roger hummed, “killed by a grief-stricken Romeo at Juliet’s tomb.”
“Good God,” Alasdair muttered. “I had no idea what melodrama I toyed with that night.” He jerked upright. “Hold on! Are you saying I have to kill this other lover of hers?”
“What?” Roger exclaimed. He pounded his palm against his forehead. “You idiot,” he moaned, shaking his head. “Do you honestly believe that your Juliet has another lover? You truly are mad if you think that.”
“Don’t you dare disparage her again, Roger, I mean it,” Alasdair warned with a glare. “You just don’t know how …” He stopped, not wanting to discuss her as if she were some common doxy. “She could have anyone. A dozen lovers.” He stared at the door of the cloth merchant’s shop. “A hundred. Or perhaps just one whom she loves and who now possesses my pearl.”
Roger sighed. “I’m not saying she couldn’t, I’m saying she wouldn’t.”
Just then Julianna emerged from the shop, looking around for them expectantly.
Roger stood up and waved across the street. “Hello! Miss Harte!” he called. He tucked his handkerchief away. “We’re coming!”
She smiled and waved and Alasdair grimly returned her smile, following Roger across the street.
Chapter Eleven
The patisserie was Mr. Templeton’s idea. Julianna had been planning on visiting the shop at some point over the next few days. She wanted to bring the children another treat to celebrate their good fortune. Mr. Templeton’s motives were much simpler—he was hungry.
The patisserie was owned by the de Tournays, a French family that had been forced to flee France during the recent troubles. It was rumored that several members of the family had died under the guillotine’s blade. Julianna shivered each time she thought of it.
“Mademoiselle et messieurs!” Chloé de Tournay called out to them. She was the niece of old Monsieur de Tournay, who owned the shop. Julianna liked her very much. She was very pretty and vivacious, with curly brown hair and a wide smile. If not for her family’s misfortune she might have married a wealthy nobleman in France. Instead she greeted patrons and sold pastries. Life was certainly unexpected and so very, very short, Julianna mused morosely. In the larger scheme of things, what was a little pearl anyway?
