Page 48 of The Duke of Lies
He gave her a faint smile, said, “You’re welcome,” then turned and left.
Her shoulders sagged as the anticipation of the charged moment fled her body. In its wake, there remained a latent heat, a prurient curiosity she was desperate to explore.
That frightened her most of all.
Chapter 11
After traversingat least three miles from the castle, Kit crept toward Cuddy’s lodging on the edge of town, grateful for the nearly full moon—and the mostly clear night—to light his way. Last night, he’d had to abort the mission because the cloud cover had been too thick. Visibility had been terrible and then it had started to rain. He’d returned to the castle and spent half the night staring at the canopy over his bed, thinking of Verity. Of the way she’d blushed when he’d caught her with his cravat. Of the slight tremble she’d displayed when their hands had touched. Of the fire burning deep in her eyes when she looked at him—so deep that he doubted its presence, but hoped for it just the same.
He banished the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.
The building where Cuddy lodged housed a shop on the ground floor. Another building flanked one side while the other side was an open space. Kit prowled to the back and found a locked door. Thankfully, that didn’t prove a hindrance as Kit easily picked the lock.
Closing the door softly behind him, Kit adjusted his eyesight to the darker interior. A window to his right let in some of the moonlight, which helped. This appeared to be the back room of the shop, and a flight of stairs rose to his left.
Kit gingerly put his foot on the first stair, testing for noise. The wood gave slightly, but it was fairly quiet. He ascended slowly as the staircase doubled back on itself, careful not to find a wayward creak. Near the top, he finally found one, freezing as the sound pierced the silence.
With light feet, he hurried up onto the landing and spied two doors—one on the left and one on the right. Recalling that the groom had said Cuddy enjoyed a view of the river, Kit surmised his room was the door on the left, which would afford such a view.
Moving quietly, he went to the door and carefully checked the latch. Also locked and also not a problem. Before he sprang the lock, he took a deep breath and prayed Cuddy was still at the Sheep’s Head. He’d thought of trying to verify that first but decided it didn’t matter since he couldn’t control when the man would show up. This would have been easier with a first mate. He thought of Barkley, who’d served him the past four years and who had opted not to come to England with him after the ship had burned. Barkley would’ve made an excellent accomplice in this endeavor.
The lock picked, Kit pushed the door open slowly, wincing as it made a low moan. He only opened it as far as necessary to squeeze himself inside. He slipped into the apartment and closed the door with a soft snap. He stood inside a large main room and saw a doorway leading toward another room at the front of the building. Glancing around, he would judge that to be the bedroom, and since the main room was empty, he listened intently for any sign that Cuddy was in the front chamber.
Nothing but silence greeted him.
Exhaling, Kit made his way toward the doorway and peered inside. A lantern from the street below offered meager illumination of the chamber, which contained a narrow bed, a dresser, and a dilapidated chair.
Kit immediately went to the dresser and began searching the drawers. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for but would investigate anything of note. There was nothing but clothing and an empty bottle until he reached the bottom drawer. Alone in that space sat a black leather-covered ledger.
Withdrawing the book, Kit went back into the main room where the light was better thanks to the moon. He walked to the window and held the book open. Right away, he saw there were entries. Pages and pages of entries—money coming in and money going out.
Victory surged in his chest, but he wouldn’t stop now. Glad he’d left his coat a little ways from the house, Kit tucked the ledger into the back of his breeches beneath his waistcoat. He went back to the front chamber and quickly searched the bed, lifting the mattress and looking beneath the frame. Satisfied that he’d done all he could in there, he moved back into the main room, all while keeping his ears open for the slightest sound. He knew that top stair would creak and the door would moan, both notifying him of Cuddy’s arrival.
He glanced out the window and decided the leap to a pile of shrubbery below would likely be his easiest and best escape.
A desk in the corner beckoned Kit. He moved stealthily across the room and saw several papers sitting on top. The bulk of them were to do with seeking a new steward position—advertisements and letters informing Cuddy the position had been filled. The final letter, however, was from one Horatio Kingman, Verity’s father.
Before Kit could read the contents, he heard the telltale moan of the door. Somehow he’d missed the stair creaking. Or Cuddy knew to avoid it.
Kit set the letter on the desk and turned to the door, ready to confront the thief. Cuddy stepped over the threshold, his mouth curling into a nasty sneer. “How did you get in here?”
“Helped myself,” Kit said pleasantly. “Just as you did with a portion of my estate’s profits. I’m here to collect.”
The blackguard’s eyes widened, and he closed the door as he moved inside. Kit tensed in response.
Cuddy wiped a hand over his mouth. “Careful what you’re accusing me of.”
“Ishould be careful?” Kit clicked his tongue. “I’m not the criminal in this scenario. I can prove you stole from me.” He hadn’t studied the ledger in depth yet, but he expected to be able to use it to his advantage. Hehopedhe’d be able to.
He enjoyed watching Cuddy’s face turn a dull shade of gray. “I could go to the constable, but I’d prefer you return what you owe me and leave Blackburn. Oh, and tell me whether you’re working alone. I suspect not.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
Kit shrugged. “Fine. Then you can go to jail. Or perhaps you’ll be transported. Where’s my money?”
Cuddy’s face passed gray and went full white. But only for a moment before scarlet tore over his flesh. “I don’t have it. Spent it all.”
Kit was well aware of how much the man had grifted over the past six and a half years. He looked around at the ramshackle room with its meager furnishings, all of it damaged or threadbare. If Cuddy had spent the money, it sure as hell hadn’t been on his dwelling or comfort. “I hope you have a nice house somewhere. Don’t tell me you spent it on drink and women.”
