17 Chapter 17

Cass dropped the lace edge of the bedroom curtain as if it burned her. "Right on cue."

"Whot?"

"Devorlane flaming Hawley. Here already. I knew he wasn't going to let this go."

"Yer are jokin'," Ruby thundered across the wooden floorboards. "Show me."

"There." Cass slipped closer to the mullioned window in order to stare down. The tangled shrubbery, the scene of last night's unfortunate debacle, glared back. It wasn't alone. The morning was overcast, patches of mist in the air, but even at this distance the gleam in his emerald gaze, like jewels on a foggy night, was obvious. "The bastard."

"'Least he ain't got the soddin' law wif him. Unless Miss Snotter-nose has joined the Runners."

True. But he also had Cass's muff and cloak and was holding them up, in his dove-gray coat and tight fitting trousers, in the hope of her seeing them. The dove-gray coat and tight fitting trousers too. Damn him.

This was like those fairground booths where the instant you hit one wooden head, another popped up elsewhere, a rabbit out a hole. And no matter how hard you hit you never cleared the board.

Of course she could pretend the cloak wasn't hers.

"Persistent bugger'n he?" Ruby's breath misted the panes.

"You can say that again."

"Well, don't yer worry none, I'll deal wif him."

"After last night? Thieving's bad enough. I don't want us had up for murder. No. This is my turn."

"Whot? If it's anythin' like the turn yer took last-"

"Do you somehow think I can't?"

Cass flicked the curtain aside. Well, she could deal with him. What a waste of a night, tossing and turning it would be if she didn't. Hadn't she wracked her brains in an effort to determine how best to explain Gil when she'd not only failed to greet him as a feared lost soldier but someone who looked never to have left in the first place? Not to mention putting it around the county she was a widow? And kissing Devorlane Hawley-the worst of it really, since she couldn't very well say Gil had turned up alive and well and she'd not long received the joyous news. Because, never mind how-why would she then have kissed another man on her doorstep dressed in a black wrap and not a lot else? In fact nothing else.

But now, now she knew exactly what she was going to say and it was perfect-foolproof-she might as well get down there and do it. With Gil at her back, what could go wrong? She'd even burned the miniature of Elgered, the one she got for a bob off a barrow at Spitalfields market.

"Go put the kettle on." She smoothed her hands on her skirt.

"Whot? Whot do yer think my name is? Soddin' Polly?"

"And put out the buns."

"I ain't puttin' out no soddin' buns. Not unless I get ter spit-"

"Yes, you are. Without spitting on them first."

"Whot? Fer some toffee-nosed-"

"Snout you hit with a broomstick? Listen, what you witnessed last night, Devorlane Hawley and me, was nothing. A shabby attempt to deal with things. On his part."

"I'm glad yer clarified that. For a moment there I thought yer were undersellin' yerself. I mean it's hardly surprisin' he thinks yer can show him the soddin' works. And Gil perked up soddin' remarkable'n all, once he'd sunk that bottle of port yer laid in over by. Pearl an' me had ter lock our bleedin' doors. Barricade them too. Still, he's sleepin' it orf now."

"All the more reason for me to deal with this while he is. While it would be nice, we don't want Lord Hawley six feet under. Believe me, when he hears what I have to say, about Gil and me, what I dare not reveal rather, he won't trouble us again."

Ruby tucked a tendril of flame hair behind her ear. "How's that if yer dare not reveal it?"

"You'll see. You know, it might even be that he's simply brought back the cloak as an act of charity."

"You hope."

"If you don't think what we've just discussed is any good-"

"Oh no, Saff." Ruby shrugged. "Who am I ter disagree wif yer? Especially the way you deal wif things. Long as it don't do no more soddin' harm than good."

Sodding was perhaps the word Cass heard loudest, as she made her way down the open, wooden staircase, past the frayed Mughal hangings, the vase of fresh chrysanthemums. Because if it wasn't for the sodding Devorlane Hawley, now at her sodding door, she would not have to go to these lengths, sodding or otherwise, and ask him in. Belle-equally sodding-neither. What she had to say being of the delicate-secretive rather-sodding nature that demanded it, in addition to proving she had absolutely nothing to hide.

But at least, she knew what to do about it and it wasn't like she hadn't expected him. What was it she'd thought last night about the deal being off? Just as well she'd also thought her next move through. She smoothed a tendril of hair back from her forehead-if only she hadn't kissed him-and reached for the door bolt.

"Lord Hawley." Just because she could extend her hand for him to kiss, didn't mean she should. Or, should could and should be the other way about? "How nice to see you." That was a joke after last night but she continued anyway. She grasped her cloak too. "And with my cloak. How very kind of you to return it. After last night too."

"Last night?" Belle said.

"Yes. Didn't he tell you? Last night when that intruder was on the loose."

Although in grasping her cloak-in struggling not to snatch it from him-she wished he wouldn't step forward like that. Deliberately, as if he couldn't take his eyes off her, his hair falling across his cheekbones. Provocatively, so she was instantly aware, not just of the immaculately groomed clothes, but what was beneath them. Possessively, as if her next stop was Lord Koorecroft's door. The theatricalact was almost as good as ones she could do herself.

"I must confess I did not expect to see you quite so soon, Lord Hawley." She smiled. "You neither, Belle."

That much was true. After yesterday she hadn't expected to see Belle at all. She could only assume Belle had heard the story about Gil, so now Cass was no threat to her, here she was. Now Gil was here and Devorlane Hawley was home, she'd get shot of Belle.

"Oh, yes, the intruder. Well, Devorlane wished to see you suffered no ill effects." Belle gave a small shrug of her velvet-clad shoulders.

"Really? Excuse me, Lord Hawley, while that is very kind ...my cloak. Thank you."

"After the misunderstanding," Belle added. "The fact there's some hellion on the loose. So worrying for all of us that anyone would dare look in your window like that."

A hellion? Really?