Page 98 of Where the Heart Leads
Provided, of course, that he was amenable, both in allowing her, once she was his wife, the freedom to be herself, and, of course, in wanting to marry her.
Would he be amenable?
How could she learn if he was?
Many minutes later, when sleep finally crept over her, those questions were still circling, unanswered, in her brain.
16
Late the next night, Smythe once again darkened the French door of the back parlor of the town house in St. John’s Wood Terrace.
As before, Alert was waiting in the shadows of the unlit room. He waved Smythe in. “Well?” There was a sharpness in his tone Smythe didn’t fail to notice. “What, might I ask, is the purpose of this visit?”
Smythe showed no emotion as he walked closer, all but looming over Alert as he sat, comfortably at ease in the armchair. “This.” Pulling a folded sheet from his pocket, he presented it.
Alert let a moment pass, then took the single sheet. Spreading it open, he swung to the fire. Even by the poor light, just a glance was enough to take in the printed characters, and recognize the format. The word “reward” fairly leapt off the page.
Ensuring his face remained devoid of emotion, he assessed his options, then crumpled the sheet and tossed it onto the glowing embers. It caught, flared. In the sudden rosy light, he glanced at Smythe. “Inconvenient, but not of any great import, I would have thought.”
A clear warning not to allow it to be of any import slid beneath his smooth tones. Smythe shrugged. “Only insofar as we can’t risk training the little beggars by day.”
“So train them by night. Is that a problem?”
Smythe grimaced. “Not so easy.”
“But it can be done?”
“Aye.”
“Then do it that way.” Alert paused, his gaze on Smythe’s face, then said, “This caper is too important—too lucrative—for us to simply give it up because of a minor threat. I take it you now have all the boys you need?”
“All bar one.”
“Get that last one.”
Smythe shifted. “We’ve got seven.”
“You told me you need eight to do the job as I wish.”
Smythe nodded. “To do that many houses all in one night I’ll need eight to be sure. But if we do the same houses over two nights—”
“No.” Alert didn’t raise his voice, but his tone made the word final. “I told you—I know how the police operate. If we do all in one night, we’ll run absolutely no risk—the chances are they won’t even know we’ve been in and out until sometime next year. That’s the way it has to be. You need eight boys, then get eight boys. Don’t think to do this caper halfheartedly.”
He let a moment tick by, then asked, “Will you—or should I say our mutual friend Grimsby—find your last boy, or do I need to rethink our connection?”
Smythe’s lip curled. “We’ll get the boy.”
Alert smiled. “Good. The ton will start fleeing the capital later this week. If there are rumblings developing, we should move earlier rather than later. When can you be ready?”
Smythe considered. “A week, eight days.”
Alert nodded a dismissal. “In that case, we’ll have nothing to worry about. All will go forward as planned.”
Smythe looked at him, then nodded back. “I’ll tell Grimsby.”
Alert watched Smythe go to the door and slip noiselessly out, shutting it behind him. He continued looking that way, fingers lightly drumming on the chair arm, then he turned his head and looked at the ashes littering the red glow of the embers—all that was left of the notice.
Theprintednotice.
