Page 34 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

Merritt scanned the room. “Excuse me for one moment. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded then watched Merritt approach a tall, impeccably dressed man. She didn’t recognize him. The man’s glance caught hers from across the room, then he nodded.

Then something else caught her attention: a short and wiry man making his way through the crowded room. She recognized a thief when she saw one. There was something about the manner in which he moved. The furtive way his gaze scanned the room. The awareness with which he watched people in the center of the crowd.

Her heart sped up.

That man was up to no good, and he fully intended to walk away richer tonight. She didn’t know what his plan was yet, and she hadn’t seen him make any definite moves, but it wouldn’t be long. His eyes hungered for the money all around him. This was the worst sort of temptation for someone who stole for a living. Thankfully she didn’t have to, because he was still occupied with the tall gentleman.

Keeping her gaze on the thief, she shifted her stance, noticed again how foreign and strange the trousers felt. The entire wardrobe tonight was foreign. But she need not worry about keeping her knees locked tightly together or anything of the like. Tonight, she was a gentleman, and she’d enjoy all the freedoms that provided. It was no wonder Jasper had been drinking and gambling every night. This sort of establishment was intoxicating on its own, without the assistance of spirits.

The man she’d been watching came closer. He circled a table where a group of gentlemen stood playing some sort of dice game. Then, he made his move. He slyly slid his hand into one gentleman’s overcoat and withdrew a small bag of coin, all the while the man continued with the game. She wondered yet again how it was that people could be so oblivious to things around them.

The thief was good, she’d give him that. And she couldn’t approach him, not at the moment, and risk alerting Merritt to the secret of the Ladies of Virtue. But she also couldn’t sit idly and allow the man to rob people. She turned to look for Merritt.

He had not returned to her side, but the dice table wasn’t so far from where he’d left her that he’d miss her. She walked forward, planning her next moves, not allowing her eyes to move from the thief. He was not significantly larger than she, but even a smaller man would be stronger. However, she had surprise on her side, and skill, as well. It was not for nothing that she had been trained by Lady Somersby.

While Iris walked, she worked a pin from her hair, careful not to allow any of it to escape from its hiding place beneath her cap. She needed some sort of weapon to approach the thief. She suspected she was even less formidable dressed as a man than she was as a lady.

The thief made another move, and she was on him instantly. She grabbed the man’s arm and pulled it behind him, held it painfully in place as she whispered in his ear. “You shall not take another cent from any of these people, do you hear?” She jabbed the hairpin into the tender flesh at his wrist.

He nodded wildly.

“Hand over the bags,” she said.

By now others had noticed the confrontation. But she supposed that attacking someone while dressed as a man was preferable to doing so on the streets in her gowns.

Merritt appeared at her side. “What is going on? Are you all right?”

“This man has been stealing from the gentlemen playing this game,” she said in her best male voice.

Two large men approached and took the thief from her. “We’ll take care of it now, thank you,” one of them said.

She tossed the bag of coin back to the first gentleman.

He eyed her appreciatively. “Thank you, young man.”

…

Merritt watched a copper curl fall from beneath Iris’s cap as if the world slowed and the only movement was that tendril freeing itself. He had to get her out of here. He swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her so that she was walking in front of him but it did not look as if he were escorting a woman from the gaming hell.

“We’re leaving. Now,” he said.

Had he not witnessed her use a hairpin to effectively take down that thief, Merritt wouldn’t have believed it. When he’d seen her standing that close to that man he’d nearly panicked, worried about her safety. Then he’d watched everything unfold. Her movements had been sure and studied. She had been calm and collected, as though she had done something just as daring and dangerous before. She’d been trained, and he was bloody well certain he’d discover by whom before the night was over. This could be the story he’d been searching for.

Iris was all smiles when they finally climbed into the carriage. “You are quite proud of yourself,” he said.

“Yes, it appears tonight was successful.”

“That remains to be seen, considering your hair is escaping its confines.”

She reached up and found the dangling curl, and her eyes widened.

“Need I remind you that your success in this charade means that I win the wager?”

Even that didn’t dampen her grin. “No, I remember.”

She was unlike any woman he’d ever known, genteel or common-born. He was attracted to her in nearly every way: her intelligence, her bravery, and her tenacity when it came to caring for her brother, even if it was misguided. Oh yes, Merritt wanted her, there was no denying that.

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