Talk about perfect timing.
He now had the golden opportunity to do a little light snooping around Cuthbert’s room. He was fishing around in his pocket for his set of skeleton keys when Cuthbert made an unexpected reappearance, trailed by the footman. Harry darted out of sight, praying he had not been seen.
“I assure you, Mister Saint, I sent your friend up here not five minutes ago. Are you certain you didn’t pass him on the stairs?”
Bloody hell. I forgot about him. Talk about being too damned efficient at your job.
“No. I saw no one. Could you describe the man for me?” replied Cuthbert.
Harry’s morning was quickly descending into farce. So much for his plans for a simple spot of breaking and entering.
“Average height. Dark hair. Well-dressed,” said the footman.
Harry gave a small sigh of relief. The footman’s description could very well match any other guest in the hotel, as well as half of London.
“Well, he is not here. Perhaps he headed back downstairs,” replied Cuthbert.
After waiting until the sound of footsteps had disappeared, Harry then stepped out from the alcove. He dared not risk taking the main stairs, nor trying to break into the room. Getting out of the hotel unseen was now his main concern. Taking the skeleton key from his pocket, he headed for the door at the end of the hall. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time he would leave an establishment by way of the servants’ entrance.
It was only as he was exiting the hotel grounds that Harry’s luck finally took a turn for the better. He caught sight of Cuthbert Saint climbing into a hack on the other side of Bow Street.
In a flash, he was across the road and hailing the next carriage. “Follow that one in front and don’t lose him,” he said.
What had started out as a sly piece of reconnaissance had morphed into an unexpected chase.
The hack slowed and moved to the side of the street. Harry pressed his face to the glass and smiled as his second piece of fortune came into view.
Jones and Son. He had never been happier to see the sign with three gold balls hanging over the doorway of one of London’s foremost pawnbrokers. An establishment which Cuthbert Saint had just walked into.
This is a spot of brilliant luck.
After handing over yet more coins, Harry alighted from the carriage and went into the small coffee house next door. He had plenty of time for a hot drink and a sticky bun. There was no need for him to risk being seen. Unbeknownst to him, Cuthbert Saint was doing business with one of the RR Coaching Company’s connections.
By the time Harry did eventually leave Jones and Son, he had all the information he needed to confirm his suspicions that Cuthbert was handling stolen goods and pawning them as he went. From the small inexpensive item, he had sold this morning, it was clear that Patience North’s beau was fast running out of money.
Harry headed back to Grosvenor Street and penned a note to Alice, instructing her as to what she was to do next.
The time had come to tighten the screws on Cuthbert Saint.
Chapter 8
He’d kissed her and now he was making demands.
I cannot believe the nerve of this man.
Lord Harry Steele was a man in possession of the world’s biggest sense of self-worth. Yet, even as she read his note for the third time, there was no doubt in Alice’s mind that she was going to do exactly what he asked of her.
Yes, he was rude. Yes, he was pompous. And while she hated to admit it to herself, he was the one man in all of London right now whom she was prepared to trust with her sister’s future.
The man is a scoundrel as well as a rogue. I just wish he didn’t make me so confused.
In the short time since she had known him, Alice had experienced a number of emotions and sensations that were far outside of her previous experience. And that had been before Harry had kissed her.
What a pity he is such a damn good kisser.
For heaven’s sake, stop thinking about it. It wasn’t that great a kiss.
Oh, alright, yes it was. He kissed me senseless and made my toes curl.
Blinking, Alice’s focus settled once more on Patience, seated across the carriage from her. Patience was still talking. She was certain her sister hadn’t stopped since they’d left Lord Ashton’s ball the previous night.
I wish this carriage would hurry up. Why does it take so long to journey anywhere in London?
Slipping the note from Harry into her reticule, she went back to listening to Patience as she continued to prattle on about the wonder that was Mister Cuthbert Saint.
Patience leaned across the carriage and smiled at her. She put a hand into the top of her bodice and a gold necklace suddenly appeared between her fingers. It had a small heart-shaped locket hanging on the end of it. Alice had never seen the piece of jewelry before.
Her blood ran cold at the sight of it.
“Cuthbert gave it to me last night at the ball. Isn’t it divine? He says he hopes to be giving me more tokens of his affection very soon,” she said.
Sweet lord, that could mean anything. What if he gets her pregnant?
Alice could only pray that Harry had good news to impart when she saw him shortly. Anything that would see the back of Cuthbert would be a godsend.
“Cuthbert says we shall supper together this evening. And Cuthbert promised me a dance. Did I mention that Cuthbert will be in attendance at the ball? Isn’t that marvelous?” cooed Patience.
Alice did her best to ignore the twitch in the corner of her eye. She dared not put her thoughts of Cuthbert into words, lest she say something that might cause serious offence. Staring out the carriage window was a more prudent idea. Besides, the dark streets of London held greater appeal than listening to Patience drone on about Cuthbert Saint.
The ride from Mortimer Street to the Royal Chelsea Hospital, where the charity gala was taking place, took an inordinate amount of time. The distance itself was only three miles, but central London at this time of night was packed with carriages heading in all manner of directions.
As she continued to watch the passing traffic, Alice’s mind wandered back yet again to Harry and that kiss. She lifted a gloved hand to her lips. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d pressed his warm mouth to hers, but she could have sworn she could still feel the heat of his touch.
Alice North wasn’t a complete innocent. She had been kissed before, but those experiences had been nothing like what Lord Harry Steele had done. He had rocked her to the bottom of her heavily beaded evening slippers.
The man needs to be locked up, kept away from women. Or at least other women.
Pity the poor girl who did end up marrying him. She would spend every social function fighting off the attentions of Harry’s legion of female fans.
“Who was the gentleman I saw you with last night?” asked Patience.
Alice vaguely stirred from her musings. “What?”
Patience huffed. “You were talking to an oddly dressed gentleman last night and I was asking who he was.”
Blast. She hadn’t realized Patience had witnessed her and Harry talking. She had to think quick.
But she cannot have seen too much.
“Which gentleman?” Alice replied, playing dumb.
“Which gentleman? Why, the one in the white suit with the foolish tiara on his head. Who else? Everyone was staring at him. I saw you and he exchange some brief words when Cuthbert and I returned to the main ballroom,” said Patience.