Page 30 of A Wicked Game

“Fair enough.”

He dropped his jaw in feigned amazement. “Good God! Did you hit your head getting out of your carriage? Are you actually agreeing with me?” He reached out and placed his palm over her forehead as if checking for a fever.

She swatted him off. “For now,” she said. She turned to Rhys and Gryff. “I apologize for putting you to such trouble. Please know that this wasnotmy idea.”

Rhys’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. The last time we had any fun was putting that escaped bear back into his cage back at Trellech, and that was weeks ago.” He rolled his shoulders as if limbering up for a boxing match and sent her a wink. “This is my sixth-favorite jacket. Just in case things get physical.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.” Gryff sent her a reassuring grin. “Maddie asked me to say she’s sorry she can’t be here. She told me to ‘teach that stealing pig a lesson.’”

Morgan tugged on her arm. “Let’s go.”

Heron’s shop had the same familiar smell of paper and ink as her own premises. Harriet squinted in the sudden change from light to dark, and when her eyes adjusted she saw a reed-thin man in a gaudy yellow waistcoat come bustling out from behind a set of shelves.

He gave an obsequious bow, clearly recognizing quality when he saw it. “Mornin’, gents. And lady. What can I ’elp you with today?”

Gryff and Rhys feigned interest in the contents of a glazed cabinet off to the right, but Morgan drew Harriet forward to speak to the man.

“Are you Mister Heron?”

“I am, sir.”

“Ah, then perhaps you can help me. I’m looking for a map by an engraver by the name of Crusoe. Do you have any?”

Harriet stiffened in surprise. What was Morgan up to?

Heron shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t, sir. And you know what’s strange? You’re the second person this week who’s been in asking after a Crusoe map.” He let out a disbelieving snort. “Don’t get asked about one for years, and then two gents want one in the space of a few days.”

Morgan sent him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t suppose the man was French?”

“’E was, now you mention it. Why? Do you know ’im?”

“I do,” Morgan said. “He’s an employee of mine. I’ve asked him to help me find a complete set of Crusoe’s maps. As a sailor myself I’m quite in awe of the precision of the man’s charts. Brings back fond memories of sailing the ocean waves, you know?”

Harriet could only marvel at the seamless way he lied.

Heron nodded, despite Harriet’s conviction that the closesthe’dever been to the ocean was to spit off the side a Thames wharf.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I told ’im,” Heron said. “Crusoe’s maps are few and far between. They’re Royal Navy issue, see. Not really wanted by your average man on the street. Your best bet is to apply to the Admiralty direct, see if they got any copies.”

“Ah. That’s a shame. Well, thank you, Mister Heron.”

Morgan turned as if to leave, and Heron lurched forward, eager not to lose a sale.

“I’ve plenty of other maps you could try,” he said a little desperately. “Perhaps the lady would like something? A map of Brighton, perhaps? Or Bath, if you’re off to take the waters?”

Morgan turned back. Harriet, still clinging to his arm, followed suit. He looked down at her, his expression so fondly caring that it took her a second to realize his game.

“Would you like a map, my dear?” he murmured, in the perfect imitation of a besotted fool. “You know I’ll buy you anything your heart desires.”

Harriet returned his look through her veil with an equally saccharine smile. “Oh, darling, you’re sosweet. And yes, as it happens, Iwouldlike something.” She turned to Heron and summoned all her charm. “I don’t suppose you have a recent map of London, do you? My cousin’s coming down from Derbyshire soon, and I’d love to give her something as a gift.”

Heron’s shoulders relaxed. “Indeed I do, ma’am.” He hurried over to a set of shelves and pulled down a rolled piece of paper.

He unfurled it on the glass-topped counter. “I can offer you a very reasonable price.”

Morgan bent to look over her shoulder. His body was warm against her back and Harriet had to force herself to concentrate on the map in front of her and not the extraordinary feel of him surrounding her.

“Is it everything you wanted?” he murmured by her ear.

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