“I’m sure he does.” Will could see it already but he allowed Landon to continue.

“We’ll take them from the safe. You’ll have to hide them somewhere no one can find them because there will likely be a search. If Lady Bridgeton doesn’t know they are stolen she’ll want them back.”

Of course he could do that. And the plan was a good one. I mean, if Lady Bridgeton took the bait and Pennault would agree to give him the safe code. “But Pennault will know I took them.”

“Doesn’t he know you’re a spy?” Landon gave him an incredulous look.

Will returned the face. “Of course not. That is the whole trick to being a spy. No one knows.”

“Not even Lady Rose?”

A sick dread made Will’s chest tighten. How would she take the news? Did he tell her? It could mean the beginning of a real relationship based on truth. Or, because he’d been so secretive, it could mean the end.

Chapter Seven

Rose placed herself behind a potted plant next to the hall entrance in the hopes of slipping out of the dance unnoticed.

Dinner had been a dreadful bore, she’d been seated as far from Will as she possibly could have been. He, however, had been next to the Duke and Duchess of Landon and, from what she could tell, had completely charmed the couple.

She gave a sigh. Then, of course, the men had disappeared to smoke and drink and she’d been left with the women. The only bright spot in that arrangement was she’d discovered Lady Bridgeton wasn’t wearing any of her mother’s jewels.

She’d have gone over and talked to lady Bridgeton, even ask her about them, under the guise of admiring the earbobs but The Duchess of Landon had the women’s attention.

Now, the men rejoined them, but Will had not sought her out and she was rather trapped by her father’s side. She’d barely been able to sneak away to see what Lady Bridgeton was doing.

“What are you doing back here?” Her father suddenly appeared next to her. She’d been gone but a moment. Drat, he was being protective.

“I thought there was a tear in my skirt. I simply meant to check it.” She swished out her skirts in the hopes it made her story more believable.

Her father narrowed his eyes. “How curious.” He gave her a quick glance up and down. “I did not see Lord Addington all afternoon.”

She tilted her head to the side. “That is what you wish to discuss?”

“He promised that he’d explain to me what is going on. And so did you, for that matter. You were also decidedly absent this af

ternoon.”

Truth be told, she’d snuck into Will’s room but he’d never returned. She’d hoped to talk with him before she had this conversation with her father. And honestly, the fact that neither her father nor herself had seen Will all afternoon was suspicious. Bridgeton had arrived and suddenly he was unavailable. What was happening? “I was tired, I rested this afternoon.”

“Unlike you.” Her father stepped closer. “How did you know your mother’s earbobs would arrive here?”

“Honestly, Papa. I didn’t.” That was the mostly the truth.

“I don’t believe you,” he answered.

Rose bit her lip. She loved her father, but in this moment, it would be so much easier if he trusted her. She was so close to getting the stones back. And not through Will. Now that she knew they were in Lady Bridgeton’s room, she’d fetch them herself.

If his silence today had shown her anything it was that he might be just as likely to double-cross her as he was to help. All right, perhaps that was too strong. But how did she know he wasn’t plotting with Bridgeton. “If you must know, I came here to meet Will, I mean, Lord Addington.”

Understanding filled her father’s gaze. “Are you interested in a real courtship with him?”

Her immediate reaction was to say no. She didn’t want her father arranging a match with a man who might actually be a criminal. But she had to give her father a believable reason. “I don’t know. Do you consider him appropriate? He’s nearly destitute.”

“I know that is what rumor says but I am capable of sneaking around too and I can assure you he is not. His finances are in excellent standing.”

A small noise, not unlike a chirp emitted from her throat. Because he’d told her he’d been indebted to the marquess. She hadn’t believed it then and for good reason, it wasn’t true. That only left one explanation: he was a thief after all. “But Papa, he told me himself that he was without funds.”

Her father scrunched his brow, though his face was rather relaxed almost as though it didn’t concern him at all. “That is curious.”

Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical
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