Page 82 of Thief of the Ton
“Papa’s due to arrive tomorrow,” Lavinia said. “I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when he’s reunited with the painting. Of course, Aunt Edna mustn’t see it—but given that Papa’s bringing Lady Betty with him, Aunt will either confine herself to her room, or go out.”
“Do you think it’s wise to show your father the painting so soon after you stole it?” Eleanor asked. “What if someone recognizes it?”
“Papa won’t say anything—and nor will Lady Betty.”
Eleanor shook her head. “It’s still dangerous—what if you’re discovered?”
“I’ve not been discovered so far—and there’s only one item left to acquire. Then the Phoenix can return to the ashes and disappear forever.”
“You ought to be careful,” Eleanor said. “There’s people investigating the thefts. Sooner or later, they’ll catch you.”
“Everyone believes that an entirely different painting has been stolen. By the time Lord Marlow discovers what’s really happened, I’ll have completed my quest, and nobody will know who outwitted them.”
“What about Mr. Houseman?” Eleanor asked.
“Who the devil’s that?”
“He’s offered a reward of ten guineas for information leading to the capture and arrest of the Phoenix. It was advertised in theLondon Timeslast week—didn’t you see it?”
“So—some fool thinks he can catch a thief, and has set the whole of London blundering about in search of one,” Lavinia scoffed. “Every man on the street eager for ten guineas will be plaguing him with tales of shadowy figures creeping about the streets. If anything, that’ll lessen the chances of my being caught, for while they’re bumbling about the place, I can slip into Walton’s estate unnoticed.”
Eleanor stiffened. “Walton? Did you sayWalton?”
Lavinia nodded. “Yes, Earl Walton, the blackguard. Papa’s worst enemy—the man who has Papa’s clock, the final item. I’ve left the worst enemy till last. In fact, when Papa comes, I’m going to ask him—”
“No!”
“What’s the matter?” Lavinia asked. “Surely you don’t think I’m in danger of getting caught?”
“Oh, Lavinia!” Eleanor said. “I hadn’t realized…” She shook her head. “No—you’re playing a dangerous game. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you if you’re caught? The article said that Mr. Houseman is eager to see the Phoenix suffer the harshest punishment possible. I didn’t think much of it, butWalton! You mustn’t steal from him, Lavinia, for your sake.”
“Eleanor, there’s no danger, I assure you—”
“Please,” Eleanor whispered. “You cannot steal from Walton. Don’t you know he’s—Oh!”
The door opened to reveal the footman.
“You have a visitor, miss,” he said. “It’s Lord Marlow.”
Sweet Lord!Lavinia glanced at the stolen painting on the chair, for all the world to see. There was no time to hide it.
She’d been caught.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Peregrine glanced aroundthe morning room where Lord Yates’s footman had ushered him in to wait. The curtains were fraying at the edges, and the two-seater sofa by the window had long since lost its luster.
Was this what Viscount de Grande and his daughter had been reduced to? Living off the charity of a cousin barely able to maintain his townhouse? And yet Miss de Grande remained cheerful—her father’s ruination had failed to crush her spirit.
He’d come here today, on impulse, to see her, having no other reason than the need to be near her again. He couldn’t remove her from his mind. Each night as he’d climbed into bed, he dreamed of having her lie beside him—and each morning he’d woken with a cockstand so painful that he thought he might die from it. And though he could ease the pain with his own hand or, heaven forbid, the attentions of a doxy, nobody would satisfy the need like Lavinia de Grande.
He would claim her as his. But before that, he had to tell her the truth:
That his father was Earl Walton, her father’s bitter enemy and the man she had declared to hate above all others. Better it came from his lips than any other’s. Then, once he had declared himself to her—both the truth and the feelings of his heart—the two of them could build a future together, side by side, a match of equals.
The door opened, and he rose to his feet, ready to drop to one knee and propose that instant. But it was the footman.
“Miss de Grande has another visitor, but she’ll see you now.”
