Lady Thief (21 page)

With steady hands, Jenny carefully twisted the cane until the silver head came off. There was a soft thump as a ring rolled out and fell onto the table. It was a dull gold ring with strange symbols carved into it. A talisman ring.

Chapter Twenty-one

The room was deathly silent. Jenny slowly drew a long breath. In a shockingly normal voice, she said, “Well—I guess I have my answer. Stoven killed my father.”

“Jenny—” Nick hesitated. “Stoven could have been given the ring by someone else.”

“And then hidden it in his cane?” Jenny shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, I’ve known, for a long time, I think, that it was Stoven.”

Spencer looked startled. “What do you mean? Why were you so certain?”

Jenny sighed; she looked very tired. “I saw something the night my father was killed. It was an impression, I suppose. Later, I couldn’t remember what it was; I only knew that I had seen something that could point to the killer’s identity. It haunted me for years. Then, when Jason sent word that it had been Stoven’s coach he had held up, everything began to come together in my mind.”

Spencer and Jason exchanged puzzled looks. “What was it, lass?” Jason asked. “What did you see?”

“Something I’ve seen a dozen times in the past year—seen, but never really noticed. The killer had a peculiar scar beneath his right ear—a scar shaped like a horseshoe.”

Quietly, Spencer said, “Like Stoven’s.”

Jenny nodded. “Like Stoven’s. Finding the ring only confirmed my suspicions. Stoven killed my father.”

Spencer sighed and rested a hip against the rickety table. “The problem is, how do we force him to admit it? He wouldn’t be convicted on the evidence we have. We must find some way of making him confess.”

Jason folded his arms across his chest and regarded the other two wryly. “Sounds like a tall order to me. His lordship ain’t likely to admit to killin’. ’Specially in front of witnesses.”

Jenny shrugged irritably. “Then we’ll just have to scare the hell out of him.”

“Jennifer!”

Jenny grinned at the duke’s mock look of outrage, and then turned sad eyes to the highwayman. “He only calls me Jennifer when he’s angry with me.”

Jason chuckled. “Happen he don’t like to hear you swearing like a sailor.”

“Is that what I was doing?” she asked innocently. “Nick, do you object to my language?”

Dryly, Spencer replied, “Yes, but I know better than to try and stop you.”

Jenny chuckled. “As fascinating as this conversation is, gentlemen, it is hardly to the point. Stoven must be exposed as a traitor and a murderer. Now, how can we do it?”

Jason lifted a questioning brow. “We?”

In a grave voice, Jenny responded, “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done to help me, Jason. If you want to duck out now, I’ll understand completely.”

Jason frowned. “What are you saying, lass? Are you telling me you don’t want my help anymore?”

“Oh, no—that isn’t it at all. Three heads are always better than two, and if you want to help us plan Stoven’s capture, I’ll be very grateful. Of course, it won’t increase the reward, but if you want to help—”

“Reward?” Jason looked startled. “Who said anything about a reward?”

Spencer picked up his cue. In a casual voice he said, “There is always a reward for anyone who helps to capture a traitor.” He shrugged slightly and, picking up the talisman ring, began to study it intently. “You deserve the reward.”

“Me?” He looked suspiciously at Jenny, only to find her apparently absorbed in thought. “Jenny?” He had to repeat her name, rather impatiently, before he gained her attention.

She blinked at him. “What is it, Jason? Have you thought of a plan?”

He glared at her. “Damn a plan! I’ll accept a fair share of a reward, but I won’t take the whole thing.”

Jenny looked faintly puzzled. “But, Jason—I don’t need any money. I’ve got more than I can handle now.”

The highwayman stared at her, and then turned his gaze to Spencer. “What about you?”

The duke shrugged. “I don’t need the money either. Besides, you’re the one who pointed the way to Stoven.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. Abruptly, he said, “There’s something bloody familiar about you. I can’t put my finger on it—but I know I’ve seen you somewhere.”

Spencer, who had been endeavoring since first setting his eyes on the highwayman to keep his face away from any direct light, continued to study the talisman ring in his hand. “Indeed.” His tone was not encouraging.

Jason was undaunted. “Where? Where have I seen you?”

Jenny looked from one to the other, having by this time given up all pretense of being deep in thought. She folded her arms and waited, curious to hear Spencer’s response.

The duke sighed and dropped the ring onto the table. Wryly, he said, “Cast your mind back about a year. It was last April—on the Great North Road.”

Jason gave a start of surprise. “I remember. I held up your coach.” He frowned suddenly. “That is—I
tried
to hold up your coach.”

Jenny looked intrigued. “What happened?”

The highwayman gave an irritated snort and seemed disinclined to answer.

“Nick?”

Spencer rubbed his nose reflectively. “I—er—I’m rather afraid I took a shot at him.”

Jenny’s eyes widened. “You—” She hurriedly brought her voice under control—it had a tendency to shake with suppressed amusement. “Did you hit him?”

“You shall have to ask him.”

“Jason?”

The highwayman avoided her eyes. “He winged me.” He glared at Spencer. “No wonder you looked so bloody familiar. And there was a crest on that coach—you’re a damned nobleman, aren’t you?”

The highwayman’s accusing question tickled Spencer’s sense of humor. “I am very sorry,” he said apologetically, “but I’m afraid I am a duke.”

Jason looked thunderstruck. After a moment of silence, he turned reproachful eyes to Jenny. “Lass, you know how I feel about noblemen. You might have warned me.”

“I’m sorry, Jason.” Jenny fought to keep amusement out of her voice. “If I had told you that Nick was a duke, you wouldn’t have come here. And I wanted the two of you to meet.”

Jason was not impressed. “It’s bad enough having to associate with a lady,” he said severely, “without throwing a duke into the pot.”

“Jason.” Jenny was deeply wounded. “I never knew that you felt like that. Why, I thought you were my friend.”

The highwayman looked irritated. “Now don’t go gettin’ female on me. You know I’m your friend, but don’t, for God’s sake, go spreading the word around. If some of my friends found out that I was holding up coaches with a lady and a duke, I’d be laughed out of England.”

The duke chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jason. We promise not to tell a soul.”

“Jason,” Jenny smiled and said, “I wanted you two to meet because you’ve both been very important to me. You helped me find Papa’s killer, and Nick—” She turned glowing eyes to the duke. “When all this is over, Nick and I are going to be married.”

“Is that so?” Jason looked from one to the other. “I thought maybe that might be it.” He shrugged slightly. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess it won’t hurt me to associate with a duke—temporarily, that is.”

“Thank you, Jason.” Impulsively, Jenny hugged the highwayman and kissed him on the cheek.

“Watch it, lass,” Jason said gruffly. “I don’t want this fancy duke of yours to take another shot at me—he had pretty good luck the first time.”

Nick extended a hand to Jason. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

The two men shook hands solemnly, and then Jason said, “Well, have you come up with any ideas about how we’re going to put a noose around Stoven’s neck—I mean, aside from hauling him out and hanging him ourselves? Getting a confession from him in front of witnesses ain’t going to be easy.”

Spencer frowned slightly. “I think Jenny had the best idea,” he said slowly. “We’ll have to scare a confession out of him.”

“How?” Jenny frowned.

Spencer picked up the talisman ring and slowly restored it to its hiding place within the cane. “I think I have an idea how we can accomplish that.” He turned his gaze to his love. “Jenny, tomorrow night you’ll return Stoven’s jewels to him. You’ll also return the cane—with the ring inside.”

Jason grunted. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

“Yes. If my plan works—and I think it will—Stoven will make his confession in the presence of the cream of London society.” He turned briskly to the other two. “Now, this is what we’ll have to do . . .”

 

 

Jenny crept silently through the dark garden until she reached a window leaning into the library of Stoven’s town house. Carefully, she peeked into the window. The room was empty. A freshly built fire and lighted lamps indicated that the master of the house was expected. Jenny knew that he was, in fact, on his way home at this very minute. She carefully tried the window, letting out a silent sigh of relief when it sprung open beneath her touch. A moment later, she was in the room.

Without a wasted motion, Jenny quickly crossed to the desk and placed a small leather pouch in its center. She left the cane there also. Seconds later, the room was again empty of life.

Jenny waited outside the window. A short time later, she was joined by Spencer, who had been waiting by the corner of the house, watching for Stoven’s arrival.

“He’s here. Did you have any trouble?”

Jenny shook her head. “No. The window was unlocked. I only hope he doesn’t become suspicious when he finds that the ring is still in the cane.”

The duke reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I doubt he will. He’ll probably think you overlooked it as a possible hiding place.”

“I hope you’re right.” The two of them stared through the window, watching as Stoven entered the room. He noticed the pouch and cane immediately. Ignoring the pouch, he snatched up the cane and twisted the head. A relieved expression spread over his face when the ring rolled out in his hand.

Jenny and Spencer watched as the earl held the ring, staring thoughtfully into the fire. After a moment, he replaced the ring in its hiding place. Only then did he open the leather pouch and study its contents. Satisfied that his property had been returned to him, he dropped the pouch into his pocket, picked up the cane and, twirling it jauntily, left the room.

Jenny found herself suddenly in the duke’s arms, and realized that she was trembling. “He put the ring back in the cane. Oh, Nick—I was so afraid he’d hide it somewhere else,” she murmured against his broad chest.

Spencer chuckled softly. “Well, he didn’t. So we can begin step two of our plan tomorrow.” He began to lead her toward the mews, where their horses waited.

Jenny shivered slightly. “You mean the War Office—and Bow Street?”

The duke stopped and gazed down at her. “Jenny, don’t be frightened. You know I wouldn’t ask you to reveal the Cat’s identity if I thought you would be harmed in any way.”

She smiled up at him. “I know that, Nick. It just seems strange, after the secrecy of the past year, to think about going up to someone and announcing flatly that I’m the Cat.”

Spencer grinned at her. “By the time we’ve rung down the curtain on Monday night, you’ll not only be forgiven for being the Cat—you’ll be called a heroine.”

Jenny looked dubious. “If you say so.”

“Allow me to know my peers. Believe me, love, society will be enchanted by your story, and totally in sympathy with your strange career.”

“What are you going to tell them?” She frowned.

He grinned again. “Your story. The plain and simple truth.” He led her through the back gate and into the mews.

Jenny prepared to mount her horse, smiling faintly. “All right. But I’ll be prepared to run like the devil if it doesn’t work.”

The duke watched her swing onto her horse before following suit. “If it doesn’t work, love,” he said with a tender smile, “we shall find ourselves a new world, you and I.”

“Nick.” She glared at him in mock anger. “Don’t
say
things like that. At least not until we’re married—then I can do something about it.”

His shout of laughter followed her as she spurred her horse toward home.

Chapter Twenty-two

Jenny crept silently down the stairs early the next morning, hoping to reach the front door before any of the servants saw her. It would be difficult to explain why she was up and about so early, and to not explain would only give rise to the sort of gossip that could ruin her reputation. What possible reason could she have for leaving the house dressed in her shabbiest morning dress and wearing a hat with a heavy veil? It was just the sort of thing to make the servants wonder.

She was halfway to the door when Somers suddenly popped out of the sitting room. The butler’s surprise was momentary; he immediately assumed his normal lack of expression. “Shall I send for the carriage, Miss Jenny?”

“Er—no thank you, Somers.” Jenny hesitated. “I have an important errand this morning which I would rather not disclose to Lady Beddington. I trust that I can count on you not to betray me?”

Somers bowed. “I believe I have already expressed my belief in your ability to take care of yourself, Miss Jenny.” He permitted himself a smile. “I shall not betray you.”

Jenny smiled back. “Thank you. And if you ever find yourself needing a job, Somers, I do hope that you will come to me.”

The butler opened the front door for her before replying. With a slight bow, and a decided twinkle in his eye, he murmured, “To you—and the duke, Miss Jenny?”

Jenny paused just inside the threshold and gave the man a rueful look. “You don’t miss much, do you, Somers?”

“If I may take the liberty of saying so, miss, a blind man would have difficulty in missing what has been obvious for some time.”

Jenny chuckled softly and passed from the house, hearing the door close behind her. She made her way swiftly down the street toward the corner, where a hackney cab waited. Fashionable society was sleeping peacefully behind closed doors; the streets were silent except for the sounds of servants stirring and merchants moving busily toward their shops.