Lady Clara Stanbourne fumbled through the compasses,
barometers, pipes, and assorted other sailor’s goods atop
the counter in Captain Pryce’s shop, but found no watches.
Bother it all. Where had the scoundrel put it?
Then a deep male voice said behind her, “Looking for
anything in particular, my lady?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. Whirling around, she was
startled to see Captain Pryce standing only a few feet
away. “Good Lord, do you always sneak up on people like
that?”
“Only when they’re riffling my goods.”
“I wasn’t—”
“And I see you’ve brought your watchdog.” He glanced beyond
her to where her footman Samuel stood just outside. “Though
I’m not sure what good he’ll do you out there.”
“I wanted this conversation to be private.”
“Private?” He slid behind the counter nearest her with an
indolent smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she snapped. “It’s not what you
think.”
“You can’t blame me for jumping to conclusions.” His dark
gaze drifted to her lips, then her breasts. It fixed there
meaningfully before rising casually to meet hers. “I was
fairly clear this morning about the only reason I’d want to
see you in my shop. Yet here you are.”
Yes. And here he was, all six feet of him. This morning, in
the vast outdoors, he hadn’t loomed quite so large or
seemed quite so menacing. But in here the low ceiling
barely cleared his head and the gloomy, insufficient light
tempted her imagination to supply bulkier shoulders and a
broader chest than she’d noticed earlier.
Imagination, that’s all it was. Now that she knew his true
nature, she was attributing to him a more threatening
appearance than he really possessed—deeper-set eyes …an
unyielding male jaw with its ghost of whiskers…rougher-cut
hair.
And when he lifted the apple he was holding and bit into
it, it had to be her imagination that made his teeth seem
unnaturally white and sharp. She felt less like the
huntswoman and more like Red Riding Hood by the minute.
“‘What great teeth you have,’” she muttered under her
breath.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” She steadied her nerves. “Anyway, I’m not here
to provide you with companionship.”
“What a disappointment. But then why are you here?” He
chewed slowly, his insolent gaze never leaving her face.
“Actually, I was looking for a watch.” Swallowing hard, she
held out her hand. “The one that Johnny stole for you.”
He cocked his head. “You mean, ‘the one that Johnny stole
from me’.”
“You heard me correctly. You let me believe that the watch
was yours, but you know perfectly well it isn’t.”
“Did Johnny tell you that?” He seemed utterly unperturbed
by her accusation as he continued to munch on the apple.
“I overheard him and his friends discussing how he tried to
sell it to you. Apparently you didn’t think to mention that
during our little talk in the alley.”
His bland expression betrayed nothing. “I didn’t want to
land poor Johnny in more trouble. It’s one thing for a boy
to steal a watch—quite another to steal it and then attempt
to sell it.”
“And even another for you to buy it when you knew it was
stolen,” she retorted. “As I recall, being a fence is
punishable by fourteen years’ transportation.”
“Ah, my lady, how dramatic you are!” He licked apple juice
from his lips, making her think of secluded paths and
whiffs of wolf in the woods. “The boy offered to sell me
the watch, and I agreed. I thought it was a legitimate
transaction. For all I knew, he was selling off his poor
dead papa’s lifetime treasure to buy his sainted mama a bit
of bread. And I hate to stand in the way of virtue.”
She snorted. His tales were even more glib than those her
uncles from the Doggett side of the family had tried to
foist on her mother. “If you’d truly thought it ‘a
legitimate transaction,’ you would have corrected me when I
accused Johnny of stealing it from you in the first place.”
He shrugged. “You caught me off guard, that’s all.”
“I’m sure I did. You weren’t about to admit you’re just
another of the Specter’s fences, here to wreak havoc and
tempt my poor children to—”
“The Specter? Who is he?”
She sensed his sudden alertness, though no flick of a
muscle or change in expression betrayed it. “You know
perfectly well who he is, I’m sure.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“He’s the king of the fences. They all work for him. He
provides them with protection from the law, from what I
understand.”
“You seem to know a great deal about this Specter fellow,”
he said with a frown.
She glared at him for continuing the pretense. “My
pickpockets are a fount of information. Until now, however,
he’s pretty much kept to his own part of Spitalfields and
I’ve kept to mine.”
“Until now?”
“I assume you work for him like all the others. Before you
came along, there were no fences on this end of the street.
It made it easier to separate my boys from the life.”
A strange, almost regretful expression passed over his face
before he masked it. “I work for no one but myself.”
“If that’s true, it won’t last for long. The Specter is
very protective of his territory. He’ll either insist you
work for him, or he’ll make sure you don’t work at all.
He’s been known to dispatch competitors rather ruthlessly.”
She didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t
his eruption of laughter. “Are you concerned for my safety,
mademoiselle?” He clapped his hand to his breast in a
mocking gesture. “I’m touched, truly touched that you care—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t care one pin what—” She broke
off with a curse. “I swear, you’re the most annoying
creature I’ve ever had to deal with in my life.”
Leaning back against the wall behind the counter, he
finished the apple, then tossed the core into a slop
bucket. “Then you should have stayed away as I asked you
to.”
She ignored his threatening tone, forcing herself to
breathe calmly, speak rationally. “I’m only here to
retrieve the watch and demand that you stop your illegal
activities, at least with regard to my charges.”
“What ‘illegal activities’? I’m but a humble shopkeeper—”
“Oh, stuff and nonsense.” His smug confidence sparked her
temper. “The one thing you are not, sir, is humble, and if
you’re a shopkeeper, I’m the queen. You refuse to accept
that I’m not some naive girl foolish enough to believe all
your ridiculous lies.”
“That’s one thing we both agree on.” He pushed away from
the wall, then leaned forward to plant his elbows on the
counter, putting him at her eye level. His gaze slid slowly
down her, devouring her. “You are hardly a girl.”
“Stop that!”
“What?” he asked in mock innocence.
“Looking at me as if you want to eat me up.”
His crooked smile was the very essence of wolf. “That’s
exactly what I want.”
She fought down a blush. “You’d find me quite
indigestible.”
“I doubt that seriously, ma belle ange.”
“I’m not your ‘pretty angel,’ sir. I’m not your anything.”
“You could be,” he said suggestively.
“Don’t be absurd.” But a secret thrill coursed through her
at the thought, making her scowl. Only her cursed Doggett
blood would make her even consider such an outrageous
possibility.
She forced herself to ignore his speaking looks. “And don’t
try to distract me with such nonsense. I have proof that
you’re lying about the true nature of your activities.
You’ve bought goods from enough thieves in the neighborhood
to acquire a reputation.”
He lifted one wolfish brow. “I see Johnny has been very
talkative.”
“That’s what happens when you deal with children. They
talk.” She held out her hand once more. “Now give me that
watch.”
“What do you intend to do with it?”
“Return it to its rightful owner, of course.”
“Who might that be?”
Flustered, she glanced away. “I don’t know.”
“That might hamper your efforts to return it, wouldn’t you
say?”
“I’ll find out who it belongs to,” she retorted. “Johnny
would only say that it was a ‘gentry cove in Leadenhall
Street,’ but there are ways to learn these things.”
“Oh? And what are these mysterious ‘ways’?”
“I’ll go to the police offices and see if anyone has
reported a stolen watch.”
If she’d hoped that mention of the police would frighten
him, she was sorely disappointed. “Then they’ll ask how you
came by stolen goods, and your little Home will be put
under immediate suspicion.”
Curse him, he had a point. “All right, I’ll tell them I
found it.”
He straightened from the counter with a mocking
smile. “Then they’ll take the watch, promise to find its
owner, and keep it for themselves. One of them might even
come sell it to me. Then you’d have gone to all that
trouble for nothing.”
She feared he might be right. Some of the police at the
Lambeth Street Office must be corruptible, judging from the
number of fences who thrived in Petticoat Lane. She might
appeal to one of the magistrates who headed the office, but
he’d simply send her back to his underlings for such a
petty concern.
Still, it annoyed her to have this…this scoundrel pointing
out the truth. “You are very cynical, sir.”
“Why? Because I see all the disadvantages to your plans?” A
sudden mischief leaped in his face. “Or perhaps you’re not
disclosing your real plan. Perhaps you don’t intend to do
anything with the watch at all.” He lowered his voice to a
conspiratorial murmur. “Except keep it for yourself.”
“What! You dare to imply—” She broke off when he burst into
laughter. “I see. You find this all so amusing. Very well.
You won’t think it’s amusing when I bring one of the
officers here to arrest you.”
Though his laughter died, he didn’t look terribly
worried. “If it will satisfy your notions of morality, then
by all means bring one.” He edged around the counter until
he stood on the same side as her.
Leaning one hand on it, he stood there loose-limbed and
nonchalant…and still taunting her with a smile, curse his
hide. “But you have no proof of anything, as you well know.
Besides, what police officer will take the word of a
meddling lady reformer over that of a military man who
served his country in our late glorious war? And yes,
despite all your claims to the contrary, I was indeed a
naval captain.”
“I know,” she muttered. “I found you in the navy lists.”
She’d spent half the afternoon scanning the huge volume for
his name.
He looked surprised. “I’m flattered. I must have impressed
you very much if our encounter sent you straightaway to
learn all you could about me.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “Five years ago, you captained a
third-rater—the Titan. No mention of you appears after
that, although rumor has it that you spent the time with
smugglers and pirates. Not exactly the sort of thing to
endear one to the police.”
“You shouldn’t listen to rumors. They’re apt to be false.”
“So you deny it?”
“I don’t have to. The police won’t take gossip as proof.”
His smug self-assurance only drove home the futility of
this debate. Threats wouldn’t work with a hardened villain
like him, especially if he had a police officer or two in
his pocket.
But there was one incentive Captain Pryce and his kind
always responded to.
“I’d hoped to avoid this, but you give me no choice.” She
drew herself up straight, trying to project a business-like
demeanor. “What if I make it worth your while for you to
leave Spitalfields?”
“That sounds very interesting.” He crossed his arms over
his chest, fire leaping into his gaze as he lounged back
against the counter with a sensual smile. “I can think of
one way you could make it ‘worth my while.’”
Oh, bother, she shouldn’t have put it like that. She
hastened to correct his impression. “I’ll give you two
hundred pounds if you’ll close up here and reopen your shop
elsewhere, preferably outside London where you can’t
corrupt my charges.”
At last she’d managed to wipe the mocking expression off
his face. “What?”
“Consider it a fee for moving expenses if you wish. Two
hundred pounds. But only if you leave by tomorrow.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s possible. But thanks to a generous uncle, I can now
afford to indulge my mad whims, and this is my latest.”
“To pay me off.”
“Precisely.”
He searched her face as if to gauge her sincerity. Then he
shook his head. “I like London. I like Spitalfields. I have
no intention of leaving.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t expected him
to come cheap. “Three hundred pounds then.”
“Ah, so that’s why you stationed your footman outside. You
wouldn’t want him to hear you offering money to a
scoundrel. Tell me, do you pay off everybody capable of
corrupting your charges? If so, you must be very rich.”
“Quite the bargainer, are you? Fine. Five hundred pounds.
But that’s the most you’ll get out of me.”
“Sacrebleu, I don’t want—” He broke off, dragging his
fingers through his hair with a look of frustration. “See
here, I can make that sum in a matter of days. Your paltry
offer is beneath my consideration.”
“Aha! So you admit that you’re receiving stolen goods.”
“I admit nothing.” He shoved away from the counter, his
expression stormy. “Is this the purpose of your offer? To
trap me into confessing to a crime?”
“No, truly it isn’t,” she said hastily. “It’s an honest
offer.”
“I’m still not interested.” His gaze flicked past her to
the front of the store. “You’d better leave before your
watchdog grows impatient. He’s presently flirting with a
milk-woman and has probably forgotten you’re even in here.
Good day, Lady Clara.”
He turned on his heel and strode into the back room.
She hesitated. Though a quick glance at Samuel showed he
was indeed preoccupied, she refused to simply give up.
Throwing caution to the winds, she headed into the back
room after her quarry. He was lighting a lantern, his head
bent at the task.
"I’m not asking you to stop your activities, you know,” she
said.
He froze with his broad back to her.
She hastened on. “I merely wish you to do them elsewhere.
It’s a good opportunity for you to make easy money. It’s
funds you wouldn’t have otherwise, and all you need do is
pack up and move your shady enterprise.”
“This isn’t a shady—”
“Your accepting the money needn’t even be an admission of
guilt. In fact, if you’re engaged in honest labor, you
ought to leap at the chance to receive money for something
so easy as moving your shop.”
Slowly he faced her, eyes ominously black. “Perhaps I
simply don’t trust fine ladies when they offer me money for
so little.”
“It’s not ‘so little’ to me.”
“All the same, you’ll forgive me if I refuse to risk my
life or livelihood on a dubious offer of funds.”
“But—”
“Besides, I have a good berth here.” He swept his hand to
include the entirety of the small, windowless room.
She glanced around. This had once been a kitchen, judging
from the small stove at the back, but for some reason he’d
taken it for his bedchamber. Lord knows why, for with the
stairway against the left wall, there wasn’t much space. He
had a rickety bed scarcely big enough for a man his size, a
scarred dresser, a washstand, a basket of apples, and not
much else.
Good Lord, for a wicked receiver, he certainly lived
spartanly. “You call this a ‘good berth’?” she said with
disdain.
“It suits my purposes. More importantly, I pay no rent. In
the long run, leaving here would actually cost me money,
even with your attempt at compensation.”
That roused her suspicions. “How do you manage to pay no
rent?”
“Friends of mine own the building.” His gaze hardened. “But
that isn’t any of your concern. Nor is my shop or my
activities.” All hint of his earlier smug amusement
vanished, and only the menacing wolf remained as he stalked
up to her. “So you’d best steer clear and mind your own
business, Lady Clara, if you don’t want trouble from me.”
If she let him cow her now when the fight had just begun,
she’d never defeat him. Tamping down her apprehension, she
met his gaze evenly. “All right, if you won’t listen to
reason and leave London, just give me the watch and I’ll be
on my way.”
“The watch?”
She glared at him. “The watch we’ve been discussing, for
pity’s sake. If you’ll recall, you didn’t pay Johnny for
it, so by rights it’s still his. Since I’m the one
presently responsible for him, I demand that you give it
back.” At the very least, she must keep Johnny from coming
here to get money for his thievery.
He glowered at her. “I can’t give it to you. I don’t have
it anymore. I sold it to a man shortly after I acquired it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care.” He paused. “But if it will ease your mind,
I’ll give you the payment I would have given Johnny.”
“Certainly not! Then I’d be as guilty of a crime as the two
of you.”
“That’s the best I can do. If you won’t take it, you might
as well leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere without that watch.” Sucking in a
breath, she held out her hand. It occurred to her that
Samuel couldn’t see her now that she’d come into the back
of the shop. Still, every ounce of her pride balked at
letting the captain win. She forced herself to stare up
into eyes chilly with threat. “Give it to me, and I promise
I’ll go.”
“You’ll go, all right.” He stepped so close she could feel
heat emanating from his body. “You’ll go this minute.
Because if you stay even though I’ve made it clear I don’t
have your confounded watch, I’ll assume you have other
reasons for waiting around.”
He dropped his gaze deliberately to her mouth, and a
trembling began somewhere in the vicinity of her belly. “L-
Like what?”
“Like you’ve grown tired of your lonely existence
corralling a lot of thankless scamps.” He lifted his hand
to run one finger down her cheek, sending a sensual shiver
along her skin. “You’d like to experience something more…
exciting.” He bent close to whisper, “With me.”
She jerked back. “Don’t be absurd.”
He dropped his hand and gestured to the doorway into the
front room. “Fine. You know the way out. Good day, Lady
Clara.”
She stared at his self-assured expression. Clearly he
expected her to abandon her quest for the watch and run
screaming from his shop, clutching her virtue to her chest
and vowing never to come back.
It was almost certainly a bluff, just the sort of tactic
her roguish uncles would have tried on any hapless female
who’d given them trouble. But did she dare to call him on
it?
Why not? If he tried anything, all she had to do was scream
and Samuel would be in here in seconds. But she’d wager
good coin that he wouldn’t try anything anyway.
She tilted her chin up. “I told you—I’m not leaving without
the watch.”
Disbelief, then anger, flashed over his face, and before
she could even react, he advanced forward, forcing her to
back up or be run down. She came up short against the wall,
where he trapped her by planting his hands on either side
of her shoulders.
She stared up into his determined expression and felt a
moment’s panic. “What in the dickens do you think you’re
doing?”
“Rousing your sense of self-preservation.”
“I’m not afraid of you, you know,” she said stoutly.
He flashed her a smile of pure wickedness. “You should be.”
Then he kissed her. Hard. Thoroughly. As she’d never been
kissed before.
His audacity so stunned her that she didn’t react at first.
Then she tried pushing him away, but it was like shoving a
boulder. Nothing gave, nothing moved.
Nothing but his mouth …which explored every inch of her
lips with merciless thoroughness. She smelled apples on his
breath, mingling with the spicy aroma of bay rum that clung
to his roughly shaven jaw.
A wanton heat flashed through her, mortifying her to her
toes. Surely she wasn’t actually responding to this…
This incredible, alarming kiss that went on and on until
she grew dizzy.
When he tore his lips free, she was so rattled all she
could do was stare at him. Her heart thundered in her ears
as she fought frantically to rein in her wildly careening
senses.
At least he looked nearly as rattled as she. His breath
came in ragged, urgent gasps, and his face mirrored her own
surprise.
Until he wiped it clean of all expression. “Now,” he
whispered, “I hope I’ve made it thoroughly clear why you’d
best not come around here anymore.”
She understood his words for the threat he meant them to
be. “You mean, because you might kiss me senseless?” How
dare he assume he could run her off so easily?
“Or worse.” His eyes glittered wolf-like in the dim
light. “I might ravish you.”
“R-Ravish me?” A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her
throat before she could prevent it. “Good Lord, that sounds
like something out of a Gothic novel! Ravish me, indeed.
Don’t be ridiculous.”
Judging from the flare of frustration in his face, her
response wasn’t what he’d hoped for. His mouth tightened
into a grim line as he leaned into her, reminding her only
too well that he had her trapped. “You think I wouldn’t?”
“I think you’re not that stupid.”
That seemed to give him pause. “What do you mean?”
“You were right when you said going to the police to
complain about your business affairs might gain me nothing.
But if I complain about your attacking me…well, that’s
another matter entirely, isn’t it? Englishmen are odd that
way. They don’t take a lady of rank seriously until she
cries that she’s been ‘ravished,’ as you so colorfully put
it. Then I need only point the finger, and they’ll hound
you to the gallows.”
Not that she for one moment believed he actually
would “ravish” her. If he’d intended that, he wouldn’t have
stopped kissing her to deliver his dire threats in that
bullying tone of his.
“Excellent point,” he muttered.
“I thought so.” She was finally winning a round. Buoyed by
the possibility of success with this new tactic, she added
smugly, “Indeed, if you don’t move away and give me that
watch, I might be tempted to complain of your behavior
anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as I said,
in such a case mine is more likely to be believed.”
She’d expected to make him capitulate at last. Instead,
humor glinted in his eyes. “Then I might as well be hanged
for a sheep as a lamb, mightn’t I?”
She had only a second to wonder what he meant before his
mouth came down on hers again.
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