Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

 

“You’re certain it’s him?” she said quietly.

“Aye.” Too agitated to remain in one place, Bran began to pace the length of the room. “Do ye know the gang that’s moved in to the docks? The one that’s been robbin’ the merchant ships blind.”

Juliet nodded. She’d heard rumors here and there, but having been a little bit preoccupied she hadn’t given them much attention. Aside from her ill-fated visit to The Lusty Mermaid, she avoided the docks like the plague. There was nothing there for her except drunken sailors and diseased doxies.

“The runners ‘ave been after them for months, but they ‘aven’t been able to catch their kingpin. Calls himself Mallack now. Word ‘as it he’s a right nasty bloke.”

“What does he have to do with Edward?”

Bran met her confused gaze. “Mallack is Edward,” he said grimly.

Juliet’s mouth opened. Closed. She wanted to refute Bran’s statement. To tell him he was mistaken. Confused. But she knew he wasn’t. After all these years, Edward had finally returned to London. Which meant neither she nor Bran would be safe until he was dead.

And here she’d thought Grant Hargrave was her biggest threat. Compared to the man who had tried to rape her and sell her into prostitution, The Wolf was an angel.

“Have you seen him?” She glanced at the pocket watch she kept on her vanity, gauging how much time she had until the carriage she’d hired to take her to the ball. Despite the startling news of Edward’s return, she still had every intention of going through with her plan. She’d worked too hard and risked too much to abandon it at the twelfth hour.

“Last night, at the Mermaid. He looked older. Meaner. But he still has the scar you gave him.”

“Good.” Her only regret was that she hadn’t cut him deeper. Turning back to the mirror, she opened a small jar of beeswax tinted with beetroot powder and dabbed it on her lips. “What do you think would be easier? A knife or a pistol? A pistol,” she decided matter-of-factly before Bran could reply. “I don’t want to have to get close enough to him to smell his stench. What?” Noting Bran’s expression in the mirror’s reflection, she tilted her head to the side. “You think a knife would be better?”

“Crikey, Jules.” He raked a hand through his hair. “We’re thieves, not murderers.”

“You know what he tried to do to me.” Even though her voice was calm and her words precisely spoken, Juliet could feel her heart galloping away inside of her chest as though she was a thoroughbred racing for the finish line. “What he would have done, had you not intervened.”

“Which is why we had him exiled.”

“And now he’s back.” Finished with her face, she crossed to the window and drew back the curtain. A glossy black carriage pulled by a gray horse waited below, signaling it was time to leave. “We told him what would happen if he returned. I only wonder why he hasn’t struck at us first.”

“He’s plannin’ something,” Bran warned. “Ye can be sure of that.”

Yes, she was certain he was. Edward – Mallack – had always held a grudge, even as a young child. She remembered when they’d been sailing paper boats on the Serpentine and she’d lost his. It had been an accident, her hand had slipped off the string, but that hadn’t stopped him from yanking her beloved porcelain doll out of her hands and smashing its head open on a tree. At the time she’d thought his behavior was nothing more than the antics of an unruly boy, but now she realized it had been an indication of something darker yet to come.

“My carriage is here.” She swept a hand down her dress and patted her hair, making sure everything was in its proper place before. “I have to go.”

“Go?” Bran said incredulously, his boots echoing on the steps as he followed her down the stairs. “Ye can’t mean to leave the house after what I jest told ye. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“If Edward has been in London for months and hasn’t done anything yet, what makes you think he’s going to come after me tonight?” Opening the closet, she pulled out an ivory shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. There were matching satin gloves in her reticule, but as she detested the bloody things she’d wait until the last possible moment to put them on.

“There’s no telling what that bastard is planning.”

“I’ll be fine.”  Stepping up on her toes, she pressed a chaste kiss to his rough cheek. “You don’t have to worry about anything other than how we’re going to spend all my money.” Her eyebrows darted up and down. “Fancy a trip to India? I hear the women are very beautiful. There might even be a few you haven’t bedded yet. Unless you’re saving yourself for Lilly.”

She’d been pleased – but not surprised – when Bran had returned to the house with the blonde-haired barmaid in tow. Despite his roguish nature he had a soft heart, and Lilly wasn’t the first stray he’d brought home. She had stayed with them for nearly a month before he found her a job as a seamstress and a flat to rent. Only Juliet knew that he continued to pay for most of it out of his own pocket every month.

“Sod off,” he muttered. “Lilly is a friend. Nothin’ more.”

“Do you sleep with all of your friends?” she asked innocently.

His eyes narrowed. “How do ye know we slept together?”

“The walls aren’t nearly as thick as you think they are. It’s a shame you let her go. She was much better than that opera singer you carried on with for months. What was her name?”

“Natalia.” He crossed his arms. “And she wasn’t that bad.”

“She threatened to burn our house down.”

“I like a wench with spirit.”

“Any more spirit and we would have been roasted alive in our sleep.”

“Don’t ye have somewhere to be?” he scowled.

“Indeed I do.” Before he could realize how neatly she’d distracted him, Juliet hurried out to the waiting carriage. The driver, a friend of Yeti’s, tipped his hat and grinned toothlessly at her as he held open the door.

“Evenin’, Jules. Or should I say Lady Jules? What are ye tonight, a duchess or one of them countess types?”

“Neither. Tonight I’m just Miss Williams, the lowly daughter of a viscount.”

“Well ye look like royalty to me.” He snapped the door shut behind her and leaned in through the open window. The weather was unseasonably warm and the clouds that had been hanging over the city for most of the day had finally receded, revealing a dark sky brilliantly lit with shining stars. “That’s a right smart dress, that is.”

“Thank you, Lenny. Is that a new coat?”

His grin widened. “Got it off a dead jest bloke this mornin’.”

Well that explained the slight smell. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Aye. Drew meself a map and everything. Never been to Grosvenor Square before.” He scratched his neck. “But I ‘ear it’s real fancy like.”

“The fanciest.” Her fingers drummed across her lap. “And you know where to wait for me?”

“Behind the back gate,” he said confidently. “Jest like ye told me.”

“Good. Good,” she repeated for herself as a knot of tension coiled in her belly. If all went according to plan, she was about to pull off the largest jewel heist London had ever seen. But if something went wrong…

If something goes wrong you’re going to spend the rest of your years rotting away in a prison cell, so best see to it that everything goes right, she told herself sternly.

“Are ye ready, Jul – I mean, Miss Williams?”

She drew a deep breath. “Aye, Lenny. Let’s go.”