A Dangerous Proposal (Bow Street Brides Book 2) Read online

  Lady Irvine’s private dressing quarters were six doors down on the right. He knew that because he’d overhead it at The Three-Eyed Stag the night before. Just as he’d overhead that she’d recently been given a necklace by her lover rumored to be worth more than the King’s own crown.

  It was rare that Felix relied on second-hand information, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up. Something which Owen, only just appointed as captain of the Runners and seeking to prove he deserved the title, had been counting on.

  He let Felix feel the weight of the necklace in his hand before he stepped out from behind the curtain. Another Runner appeared at the door, and yet another emerged from the closet. Still holding the necklace, Felix slowly turned to face them and lifted his arms above his head.

  “Out for a midnight jaunt, are we boys?” he said easily even as his stomach sank and a line of perspiration gleamed above his brow. Bloody buggering hell. He’d really stepped in it this time. There would be no scraping his way out. Not when he was surrounded by three Runners holding pistols pointed straight at his heart.

  “Why don’t ye go on and lower those,” he suggested. “Ye’ve caught me fair and square lads, and I’ve no intention of going to Newgate with a hole in my chest.”

  “You’ll go how we want you to go,” growled a tall, lean man with green eyes. “It’s over, Spencer. This is it. The end of the line.”

  Felix mustered a grin. “Well at least I led ye on a merry chase. I suppose you’ll be wanting this back.” He look up at the necklace dangling from his fingertips with genuine regret. It was easily the prettiest piece he’d ever held. And he’d been this close to pocketing it. Damn Runners. Couldn’t they leave a man be to live his own life? What had he ever done to them?

  “You have been a thorn in London’s side for too long,” Green Eyes continued. “It is going to be a pleasure to finally pull you out.”

  “Too bad your father didn’t think to do the same with your mother,” Felix muttered.

  Those green eyes flared and then narrowed to slits. “What did you just say?”

  “Ye heard me. I said too bad–”

  “That is enough.” The man who’d stepped out from behind the curtain did not need to raise his voice for the other Runners to snap to attention, which told Felix who was really in charge. He held out his hand. “Lady Irvine’s necklace, if you please.”

  Felix bloody well did not please, but what other choice did he have? He’d been caught fair and square and there was nothing to do now but surrender with dignity.

  With great reluctance he handed the necklace over and then was forced to watch as it was put back into Lady Irvine’s jewelry box. All in all it had been a good run, he decided. If he had to go out he’d rather it be like this: caught in the act with a fortune’s worth of emeralds glinting in the palm of his hand. But instead of putting him in handcuffs, the leader asked the other two Runners to step outside.

  “Are you sure, Captain?” Green Eyes frowned. “Spencer’s a tricky one.”

  “If I am longer than five minutes you can presume Mr. Spencer has knocked me out cold and escaped out the window.” His teeth flashed in a humorless smile. “But I hope I would not be so inept, or he so foolish. Would you, Mr. Spencer?”

  “No sir. Wouldn’t dream of it,” Felix lied.

  “There, you see? Now go,” he told the other two Runners brusquely. Once he and Felix were alone he cupped the back of his neck and walked to the window. Staring out into the night he said, “We have been chasing you a long time, Mr. Spencer. You’re better than most.”

  Felix lifted his chin. “I’m the best.”

  “Yes,” the Captain agreed. “You are. Which is why instead of wasting your talents, I’d like to use them.”

  “I…don’t understand.”

  “It is quite simple, Mr. Spencer.” The Captain glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Would you like to spend the rest of your days rotting way in a cell…or would you like to come work for me on Bow Street? The choice is yours.”

  Felix often wondered why Owen had given him a second chance. The closest he could figure was that the Captain had looked at him and seen a bit of himself. He’d never been a jewel thief, but he knew what it was like to come from nothing. Something Grant, who had been born with a silver spoon shoved so far up his arse his teeth glinted, would never understand.

  Owen caught Felix’s gaze across the table and gave him a cursory nod which Felix returned. Hawke sat to the Captain’s left, looking surly as ever, and beside him was Archer Brentwood, a gangly, fresh-faced lad straight out of Eton. Like Grant, he came from noble blood. Unlike Grant, he wasn’t a complete and utter wanker.

  Felix liked the boy. He may have been a tad odd, but he was also smart as a whip which was why the Captain had recruited him. Archer saw things others didn’t. He had an impeccable eye for detail and nuance and had an uncanny knack for always being able to tell when someone was lying.

  Two chairs down from Archer was Tobias Kent, a brooding, black-haired Irishman with a thick brogue and a very personal reason for being at Bow Street.

  His wife had been murdered three days shy of their first wedding anniversary. Killed on her way home from the market, her throat slit clean across and her body left out for the beggars to pick clean. Kent had become a Runner shortly thereafter and even though two years had passed since his wife’s death he was still consumed with finding her killer. Recently his vengeance had taken a dark turn, leading everyone to give him a wide berth. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that unpredictable Irish temper.

  Sitting a safe distance away were the Ferguson brothers, Ian and Colin. Different as night and day, those two were, even though to look at their rugged faces, wheat colored hair, and hazel eyes one would be hard pressed to tell them apart.

  Ian was a serious, by-the-letter sort while Colin tended to flirt with the edges of the law. Which most likely explained why he and Felix got on so well.

  There were only two Runners missing and as soon as they arrived Owen began the meeting by going through their current cases, the majority of which consisted of petty theft, burglary, and two highway robberies.

  “And where are we on our slippery jewel thief?” he asked, raising a brow at Grant.

  “She’s struck ten houses over the past six months. Every time I believe I’m closing in she disappears again.” The corners of his mouth tightened. “I think she has at least one accomplice.”

  “Or maybe you’re just too slow,” Felix suggested.

  “Or maybe it’s one of your old lovers and you’re giving her fair warning.”

  Felix tipped his chair forward. “Is that an accusation?”

  “No. That’s–”

  “Enough,” Owen said mildly. “That’s enough. This thief needs to be caught. Lord Munthorpe is threatening to take his business to the Bobbies if his wife’s necklace isn’t recovered and I can’t say as I blame him. Which is why the two of you are going to work the case together.”

  “Us?” Felix and Grant exclaimed in unison.

  “Yes,” said Owen, blue eyes glinting with amusement. “You.”

  Chapter Nine

  Felix could think of a hundred things he would rather do than work alongside the likes of Grant Hargrave. Starting with cutting off his own arm. But when Owen gave a direct order there was no getting around it and so the next morning the two men found themselves walking together in stony silence, neither one of them acknowledging the other until they were standing outside the gate of 374 Beacon Lane.

  “What did she take this time?” Felix asked, shifting his weight back onto his heels and slanting a hand across his brow to block out the sun as he gazed up at the private residence of their jewelry thief’s latest victim. The three-story brick house was nearly identical to every other house in this particular section of Grosvenor Square, right down to the blue shutters and blossoming cherry tree in the front garden.

  “I do not know yet.” Grant pushed open the gate
and proceeded up the narrow stone walkway. “The report was vague. A necklace, I would assume. Usually only one. Rather odd she wouldn’t take more given the trouble it must take to break in, but nothing about this case has made sense from the beginning.”

  “Ye don’t see many female burglars,” Felix agreed as he closed the gate and followed Grant up the walkway.

  “No, you do not.” Pulling off his hat, Grant tucked it under his arm and raked a hand through his hair. “Particularly ones who have a penchant for knives.”

  “I heard she stuck ye.” Felix grinned broadly, delighted by the fact that the mighty Grant Hargrave had been stopped in his tracks by a woman. And not just any woman, but a common thief. If they ever did catch the lass he didn’t know which he would be tempted to do more: put her in handcuffs or buy her a drink.

  “She almost stuck me,” Grant corrected with a narrow-eyed glare. “But her days of freedom are numbered. I’ve tracked her all the way to Dickens Square. She’s running out of places to hide.”

  “Dickens Square is a big place.”

  “Not big enough.”

  Felix rubbed his chin. “What does she look like, this jewel thief of yours?”

  “She’s not my jewel thief,” Grant said quickly. Too quickly to Felix’s way of thinking.

  There was something there whether he chose to admit it or not. Having felt the same thing with Felicity from the moment they’d first met, Felix recognized the signs all too well.

  It was a tiny flicker of desire.

  A spark of attraction.

  A whisper of lust.

  Only time would tell whether the flicker became a flame and the whisper turned into a shout. For his own personal entertainment Felix hoped that it did. Grant would be well served with a little complication in his perfect, holier-than-thou life. And what was more complicated than falling for a woman he couldn’t have?

  “All you need to know is that she’s quick as a snake and twice as mean.” Grant absently rubbed his side where Felix assumed the chit had gotten a bit too close for comfort with one her knives. But before he could respond with a pithy remark the door opened to reveal a footman who quickly ushered both men into the front parlor. The large room was comfortably decorated with heavy furniture in matching shades of green, gold drapes, and a large fireplace framed with tile.

  “Lord Ashburn will be but a moment,” said the footman. “Can I offer you gentlemen any refreshments?”

  Felix’s head whipped around with so much force he felt a distinct pop in his neck. “What name did ye say?” he asked in a soft, soft voice that had the footman’s brow creasing with confusion and a hint of wariness.

  “Lord Ashburn, sir. Is – is something the matter?”

  A dark, predatory smile twisted Felix’s mouth. “No. Nothing is the matter a’tall.”

  “It’s lovely.” Standing in the middle of Scarlett’s vaulted foyer, Felicity turned in a slow circle as she admired the house the Steel’s had finally purchased after months of searching for just the right one. It had been no small task given the newlywed’s conflicting tastes, but they’d managed to do it with a three-story row house that boasted hints of Grecian architecture, high ceilings, and hardwood floors polished to a glossy shine. As they’d just moved in the rooms were still largely devoid of furniture and her voice echoed in the empty space when she added, “I can see why you chose it.”

  “Should I show you your bedroom now or wait until later?” Scarlett asked with an innocent smile that Felicity saw straight through. Wandering over to an empty marble pedestal, she trailed her fingers across the top of it before she lifted her head and looked her friend square in the eye.

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “But Filly–”

  “No. That is a lovely dress, by the by. I do not believe I’ve seen you wear it before.”

  Today Scarlett wore a sprigged muslin walking dress in soft violet with lace at the sleeves and a gauze overlay on the bodice. It was not an elegant evening gown by any means, but it made Felicity’s blue and white checkered gingham both look dowdy in comparison.

  Before the divorce she had never thought twice about her wardrobe. It was a forgone conclusion that every autumn she would be fitted for a myriad of dresses in a variety of fabrics, as well as wraps, shawls, and unmentionables. Money had never been an issue. Ezra may not have been a duke, but he’d inherited a generous sum from his father and when she was his wife she had never wanted for anything.

  It made her feel foolish, and a bit vain, to have taken everything she’d been given for granted. As the wife of a peer she’d merely accepted it as her due, and it had never crossed her mind that it might one day all be taken away. Now she had three dresses to her name instead of three dozen and they were all rapidly falling out of fashion as hemlines lengthened, sleeves shortened, and heavy silk gave way to lighter, more versatile fabrics like cotton.

  Not that it really mattered what her dresses looked like. She could wear the Duchess of Kent’s most expensive gown and still not be welcomed at Almack’s, or anywhere else for that matter. But it wasn’t herself she was the most concerned about. It was her children.

  Ezra had been a bit more benevolent with their parting wardrobes than his wife’s, but Anne and Henry were growing like weeds and it would only be a matter of months – mayhap weeks – before their clothes no longer fit. Then what was she supposed to do?

  A worry for tomorrow, she told herself firmly. On the way to Scarlett’s house she had made herself a promise that for one day she would not let the heavy weight of her responsibilities and an uncertain future drag her down into a pit of worry and despair. For one day – for one blissful, sunny day – she wanted to embrace all of the things she had instead of all the things she had not.

  Two beautiful, healthy children.

  A dear friend she could once again consider a sister.

  A man who made her blood heat and her knees weaken.

  Felicity’s gaze dropped to the floor as she felt a blush warm her cheeks. Now where had that thought come from? After their last torrid encounter had ended in tears she thought she’d successfully pushed any thought of Felix to the back of her mind, but apparently he’d been lurking in the shadows just waiting for the right opportunity to make his appearance known.

  Pesky man.

  It was bad enough he showed up on her doorstep whenever he pleased. She did not need to be thinking about him when he wasn’t even here! It reminded her of a stray cat her mother had made the mistake of feeding once. All it had taken was one bowl of milk and the cat had begun scratching at their window at all hours of the day and night. Nothing would make it go away and finally, in a fit of desperation, her mother had allowed it into the house where it had lived quite happily for seven long years.

  “It is quite lovely, isn’t it?” Scarlett’s dress flared out from her waist as she turned in a quick circle. “I wasn’t sure about the color, but–”

  “Felix Spencer kissed me,” Felicity blurted.

  “–my seamstress insisted it would be all the rage come spring and she…was…what did you say?”

  “Felix Spencer kissed me.”

  “Yes.” Scarlett looked at her oddly. “Last summer in my bedchamber. You told me that already, don’t you remember? Although that does remind me that he still has not returned my jewelry. I am going to have to talk to Owen about that.”

  Hands curling into tiny fists, Felicity began to pace circles around the marble pedestal. “Yes, that was the first time he kissed me.”

  “You say that as though there have been other times.”

  “There have! Two. Two other times. In the middle of Hyde Park and in my kitchen yesterday morning. Or is it my parlor?” She threw up her hands. “It doesn’t matter. The point is he kissed me again. Twice.”

  Scarlett blinked. “One kiss could be ascribed to the heat of the moment, but three…well, that’s two more than one.”

  “Thank you so very much for the arithmetic lesson,” Felicit
y huffed.

  “Do not get belligerent with me. You are the one who has been hiding kisses.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I did not think it would become anything. No, that is not true.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Forced herself to take a deep, even breath. “It is because I thought it might become something that I did not tell you. I believed if I pushed it under the rug–”

  “It would disappear?” A wry smile pulled at the corners of Scarlett’s mouth. “I used to believe the very same thing. Unfortunately that only works for dust, not love.”

  “Love.” Startled, Felicity stopped short as her heart gave a hard thud inside of her chest. “I do not love Felix Spencer.”

  Scarlett closed the distance between them and clasped Felicity’s hands. Giving a gentle squeeze she said, “Don’t you?”

  “No. Yes. Oh, I do not know.” Distressed, could only shake her head. “I thought I loved Ezra and look how that turned out.”

  “Ezra is as worthless as a tit on a chicken.”

  A choked laugh forced its way past Felicity’s lips. “I cannot believe you said that.”

  “I overhead one of the Runner’s use it and I’ve been waiting for the opportunity. But I should have said it far sooner.”

  “Why didn’t you?” she asked, looking searchingly into Scarlett’s clear gray gaze.

  “Because I know what it is like to think you know someone, only to have it turn out that you never really knew them at all. It hurts,” she said as tears gathered in Felicity’s eyes. “It hurts your heart and your soul. But worse than that, far worse to my mind, is it makes you doubt yourself.”

  “Yes,” Felicity whispered. “Yes it does.”

  “You did not do anything wrong. Look at me,” she said with Felicity’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Look,” she repeated, and with great reluctance Felicity forced herself to meet Scarlett’s fierce stare. “Ezra is a pompous bastard and he never deserved you. You’re well to be rid of him.”

  One of the hundreds of tears Felicity had been desperately trying to keep at bay slid down her cheek. “I know that. Truly I do. But it does not make it any easier.”