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Authors: Anne Gracie

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BOOK: An Honorable Thief
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Hugo swallowed, imagining the scene. He didn't know much about female society, but he imagined most girls would come to womanhood with the support of their older female relatives. His little Kit had been quite alone. She had spent too much time alone, coping with problems that he could only imagine...

"She told me later her mother had died like that, bled and bled from the inside, after havin' a baby. The baby died too, poor little soul." Maggie heaved a sigh. "And Miss Kit, poor little tyke, were in a panic, because she knew she'd been caught thievin' and didn't know which was worse
—a thief s punishment—that's havin your hand cut off—or bleedin' to death like her ma."

Hugo closed his eyes for a moment, his fists clenched. "That swine of a father of hers should rot in Hell for his neglect. What the devil was he doing, letting her go out stealing?"

Maggie's face soured. "Letting her? Had her taught to do it, didn't he? Like a little apprentice. From an early age. He couldn't earn a good enough living with the cards, and

God forbid that a gentleman like him would lower himself to work!"

"So he taught his child
—his daughter—to steal?"

"Not a pretty tale, is it?" agreed Maggie grimly. "But as an English gentleman, he ran tame in all the nobs* houses and palaces, and his innocent little 'son' too, going where they pleased, and learning the lay of the land. And then later, little Miss Kit would get into native dress and go back and thieve for him."

"I put a stop to all that, mind. It weren't decent. I had Miss Kit into a bath and a nightgown as quick as you could say Jack Robinson. And by the time her worthless pa came a lookin' for her, I'd decided to stay with her and teach her right from wrong, seein' as nobody else had seen fit, and so I told him. And so he was stuck with me, and she became a girl instead of a boy for the first time in her life."

"I begin to see why Kit said she would do anything for Maggie Bone," Hugo said softly.

Maggie blushed. He leaned forward in the coach, took Maggie's hand and kissed it, quite as if she was a duchess or a queen.

"Miss Bone, I thank you," he said formally. "If there is anything I can do for you, at any time, you need only ask."

"Oh, pshaw!" Maggie said gruffly, puce with embarrassment and pleasure. "Anyone would've done the same She were a grand little girl, so warm-hearted and good inside, for all the bad habits she'd been taught. She's not hard to love, Miss Kit."

"No, indeed," he agreed softly, which set Maggie grop-ing for the handkerchief again.

She snuffled a moment, blew her nose and added in a watery voice, "And she never did steal so much as a pa from then on, until he got her to promise him on his death bed that she would come here and get all those things from those gentlemen. Oh, Mr Devenish, sir, I couldn't bear it if Miss Kit was to hang or get transported."

"She won't," he said simply. "I won't allow it. We will sort everything out, Maggie, I promise you."

"But how will we find her, sir? Miss Kit is very good at fading into the shadows and disappearing."

"As long as she goes to London first, we have an excellent chance of finding her. If you are wrong about Ireland, and she goes there, then we will have more difficulty. But if she plans to leave from London and go to the continent, I have the port of London well covered. I have men, too, in Dover and at Southampton."

Maggie looked at him in surprise. "You knew, then, that she would run away? But how could you know a thing like that?"

"No," he corrected her. "I thought she might need to flee
—from the authorities. I took steps so ensure that if she was pursued, there would be a ship available to her—one of my ships, so that I would know where she went." He smiled faintly. "I have no intention of losing her, you understand."

A few moments later he said, "I might have to go abroad for a short time. I trust you will remain with Griffin?"

Maggie blushed. Hugo glanced forward, at his groom. Griffin's ears had gone bright red. They almost matched Maggie's cheeks.

"Yes sir," mumbled Maggie.

"You'll take good care of Miss Bone in my absence, Griffin?"

Griffin turned around. His face split in a grin. "I will indeed, sir. I'll not let her out of me sight one minute."

Scarlet-faced, Maggie tossed her head. "I'm a decent woman, I'll have you know."

"Aye," said Griffin. "I wouldn't marry any other." Maggie sniffed. But a smile grew on her face to match the one on Griffin's.

It was a good omen, thought Hugo.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Kit
paced
the
small
cabin.
Oh,
when
would
this
wretched ship leave? Each small delay was unendurable. Once she had decided to leave, she wished to be gone. It was unbearable, waiting, gazing out of the tiny porthole at what would be her last sight of England. England, the land she had spent only a few short months in but which had come to feel like home.

If she craned her neck and peered from the side of the porthole, she could see the prison hulks moored on the river, rotting low in the water, their cargo one of misery and wretchedness. From time to time a scream or a moan or a coarse, brutal shout wafted across the water to her ears and she shivered. If she didn't get out of England soon, she may well end up there. If she was lucky, that is. If her luck failed her, as it had so far, she would end up at Tyburn.

The gallows. Every hour that passed and the ship failed to depart chafed at her nerves. Her helplessness gnawed at her. First the captain had said he had to wait for the tides. But the tide came and went, and still the ship didn't leave. Then he said the wind was in the wrong direction, and only an hour or two later, the wind had changed and freshened and

She’d expected that any moment she would see the wharf drifting away, as they moved off down towards the sea.

But no! She'd gone up on deck and found the captain and asked him what the delay was this time! And he'd shrugged his shoulders and apologised profusely and explained that he'd received a message from the ship's owner, who was sending an important package for delivery. "Only a short wait longer, Miss Smith," he'd said, as he'd said to her at least a dozen times previously. "Only a short wait."

Fuming with impatience and anxiety, Kit had returned to her cabin. For two pins she'd have marched down the gangway and boarded the next departing ship, but she'd already tried and she hadn't been able to get passage on any other ship currently in port. Not one single ship's master had been able to squeeze her in. So she was stuck with this wretched ship and Captain Short-wait!

She heard some church bells chime and gazed out of the porthole again, listening to the mellow golden notes. Home. What was home anyway? Any place could become a home; you just had to make up your mind to it.

What was that English proverb about home? Home was where the heart
— No, she wasn't going to think about hearts. She was leaving hers behind, with the ones she loved. Maggie, and Aunt Rose. And him...

He'd offered her marriage...and money, as much as she'd wanted. It had not been too difficult to refuse that.

He hadn't spoken of love.

She told herself she was glad he hadn't. If he'd spoken of love, it would have been that much more impossible to refuse him, and she had to refuse him, because she wasn't the right sort of girl to marry any honest man, let alone a fine, honourable gentleman like Hugo. She couldn't bear to drag him down to the gutter she'd spent her life managing
—just—to stay out of.

There was that look in his eyes some times when she caught him watching her...

Oh, it wasn't significant, he didn't mean anything by it, he was just trying to keep her honest.

She could make a home in Italy. Italy was beautiful, the weather was warm and the Italian people were very friendly. She had vague memories of it from when she was a small child, before Mama had died. Yes, Italy, where Mama and little Jamie were buried. She could make a perfectly satisfactory home there, if only this wretched ship would move!

Time spent waiting meant time available to think, and she didn't want to think any more about anything, or she'd weaken and change her mind and then where would she be? In a mess, that's where. Ruining more people's lives.

There was a sudden knock at her cabin door.

Kit froze. "Who is it?"

"It's the captain, Miss Smith."

"Oh." Kit slipped off her narrow bunk and opened the door.

The captain stood in the doorway, an odd look on his face. "It seems you're wanted, Miss Smith. There's someone here for you." He stepped aside.

Kit panicked. It was the Runners come to take her to prison. She glanced wildly at the porthole. Too small!

"Miss Singleton, I believe," said a deep voice.

Kit froze. She turned. "Mr...Mr Devenish," she managed.

"Thank you, Captain. I'll take her into custody now."

Custody!
"No!" she flashed. "You cannot let him take me, Captain. He
—he has no authority over anyone an racially not me. He—he is a vile kidnapper, trying to kid-nap me! Please, I beg of you, Captain."

The captain gave Mr Devenish a searching glance.
 
"I

dunno, miss, he don't look like a kidnapper. He looks uncommon like a gentleman to me."

"Oh, that is just a disguise," she said desperately. "He is a dreadful man. He wants to steal me away, for... for
—"

"For your inheritance?" suggested Hugo drily.

"Yes, for my inheritance. And who knows what else?" she added wildly, sending a pleading look in the captain's direction.

Hugo shrugged, looking every inch the respectable man. “In fact, Captain Patchett, she has taken something which belongs to me. She is a wanted woman."

"Has she now, sir? Well, I can't say that surprises me, now I come to look at her..."

"I'm not," said Kit in a small, desperate voice. "I haven't got anything that is not truly mine, honestly I haven't. You can search, Captain. Anything that was stolen has been returned, I promise you. Send a message to your home, Mr Devenish. You will find your tie-pin there."

The captain looked doubtfully at her. She could understand why. Hugo just stood there, positively exuding respectability and authority,

"Sorry, miss, I reckon I'll have to hand you over to him."

Kit's heart plummeted. "But he has no authority over you! You are the captain
—on this ship, you make all the decisions. No one can
make
you do anything!"

The Captain shrugged, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Got no choice, miss. Mr Devenish here owns this ship. I been waiting all day for him to get here. Sorry, miss." He patted her hand and left, closing the cabin door behind him.

Defeated, Kit subsided onto her bunk. She could feel the faint breeze through the open porthole. It brought an echo of the stench of the prison hulks.

The wages of sin.

She could not complain that it was not just. But why, oh, why did her captor have to be him? The one man in the world whom she could not bear to face. The one man in the world whom she loved with all her heart.

She swallowed convulsively. He'd called her a thief. It was true. He was come to take her into custody. He'd said so. He'd called her a wanted woman.

Would he take her to Bow Street first? Or straight to prison? She wasn't sure of the procedure here. She swallowed again. She knew one thing about English justice. They hanged people. A petty thief might get transportation, but a jewel thief...

It was justice, after all.

Kit took a deep breath and stood up to face her fate. She forced herself to look him in the eye. He had the oddest look on his face.

Hugo stared at her. "You will not deny, I hope, that you've taken something of mine."

Her eyes were huge and miserable, her face chalky white, her firm little chin set to take her punishment.

"Your beautiful phoenix tie-pin," she whispered. "But I did return it
—it is at your town house, I promise you." She looked up at him beseechingly. And then bit her lip. "I know you think my promise is worthless, but indeed it is—"

"I'm not talking about my phoenix tie-pin," he said gruffly. "I have it here." He took it from his pocket and handed it to her. "It is yours. And your promise is not worthless. Your promise is the most precious thing in the world to me."

Hot dry sobs threatened to choke her. She forced them rack.

"No, no. I don't want it." She refused to take it from him and after a moment he pocketed the pin again.

"You say you believe my promise; I promise you, I have stolen nothing else of yours
—of anyone's. I gave back everything I took, truly I did."

"No. There is one more thing. A small hardened lump of rock, worthless to most, but still..."

BOOK: An Honorable Thief
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