To Love a Scoundrel (40 page)

"Not quite," he answered, as relieved as she at the new topic. "It's Arkansas."

Clumsy at small talk, she spoke in a higher pitch than normal, her enunciation stiff and boardlike. "I've never been to Arkansas or to Louisiana, for that matter."

Brent's reply, only slightly less formal than hers, was accompanied by a much needed breath of fresh air. "You're in for a real treat when we dock day after tomorrow. New Orleans is a very exciting and lively town."

At the mention of the city, Jewel felt her usual calm return. Once again the detective in lady's clothing, she turned and faced him. Reasonably certain she could conduct a conversation without another thought about their passionate evening, she lifted her chin and said, "I really should be going now. Is there anything else you can tell me about this Skinner fellow or the Cajun girl? Are you sure Harry will recognize her without you or Beau to point her out?''

Frowning, vexed somehow by her ability to repress her emotions, he grumbled, "Are you still set on going through with this?"

"You know I am. I thought we got our plan all worked out early this morning."

Still frowning, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess we did at that." No longer capable of being angry at her now that he understood her better, Brent considered the good that might come from her plans. At best, the Benton team would steal back his mother's emeralds, and in the process, Jewel might come to realize how much she needed and cared for her father. Miriam would have her heirlooms, and Jewel would finally have a part of the loving family she'd never known.

At worst, he had to acknowledge, they could all be caught in their own trap, tried and found guilty by a jury of their peers, then tossed in jail for the rest of their natural lives. Were a few precious stones and a young woman's quest for revenge worth the risk?

"Hello?" Jewel called to him, waving her hand in front of his face. "You're not listening to me. Brent? What's the Cajun girl's name again?"

No match for the determination he saw in her eyes, Brent gave in and said, "Monique. That and Skinner are the only two names you need to know."

"Right,'' she agreed, turning back toward the gangplank. "Now all I have to do is give this information to Harry. I'll bet it won't take him any longer than
that,"
she said, snapping her fingers as she started up the footbridge, "to come up with a plan."

"And not much longer than
that,"
he muttered back, snapping his fingers at her retreating figure, "for you to break the man's heart into a thousand pieces."

Jewel stopped and looked over her shoulder. Cupping her hand over her ear, she called down to him, "What did you say?"

Brent waved her off. "I've got a thousand things to do. Take a nap when you're through talking with Harry. I'll see you at supper."

* * *

Back in his stateroom, Harry circled around the settee where Jewel sat waiting for his reaction. "And that's all there is to it?" he remarked, pleased by the simplicity of their first job together. "This Monique works at the saloon, and she always wears the Sebastian emeralds?"

Jewel shrugged. "That's what Beau told his brother."

"Hmm," Harry murmured as he resumed his pacing.

"Well, if you're determined to go through with this, I suppose they're as safe as any pigeons we could find on our own."

"Oh, I'm determined, Harry. Don't ever question my determination or my willingness to do what is expected of me."

Harry stopped in mid-stride and faced her. His expression wounded, he said, "I realize our relationship is as new to you as it is to me, Jewel dear, but do you think you could refrain from calling me Harry? It seems disrespectful."

Trying to smile, even though her mouth felt pinched and tense, she gave him a slight nod. "Of course, Faathah dear. I'll try not to forget myself in the future."

Harry's expression remained hurt, even after she made her promise. Keeping his tone light, he suggested, "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable calling me something other than Faathah. The way you say it, the word sounds almost vulgar."

"Sorry, Faathah," she said, forcing a soft easy lilt to her voice. "I'll do better from now on. I'm just a little overtired today."

"Hmm," he murmured again, regarding her for a long moment before he resumed pacing. "I wish to speak to you about something else before we go on with our plans."

"What?"

Coming to a halt in front of her, Harry stared down into her eyes. "This Connors fellow and you—just how involved are you two?"

"Just a minute," she blurted out, struggling to get to her feet.

Nonplussed, Harry took both of her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back against the blue velvet cushions, reassuring her as he insisted, "Try to remain calm and keep a respectful tongue in your mouth, young lady. I'm only interested in what's best for you."

"But you couldn't possibly know what's best for me, and I resent the fact that—''

"Jewel, please," he interrupted, his voice calm but uncompromising. "I cannot think about bringing you into this business until we come to some sort of understanding. Either you will behave as a daughter should and acquiesce to your father's reasonable demands, or I shall have to forget the whole thing."

"But—" This time, Jewel cut herself off. She looked into his eyes, found the stubborn verdant depths so like her own, and knew she and Harry had reached an impasse that only she could bridge. Unwilling to jeopardize her plans at this stage, she took a deep breath and quietly said, "What do you want to know?''

"Nothing terribly personal or improper, if that's what distresses you," he said, his smile more appreciative than triumphant. "First I have to know this: Do you love him, daughter?"

Jewel snapped her head up, and her mouth dropped open. "No," she finally said, surprised at her own hesitation and at the difficulty she had vocalizing the denial.

"Good, then. Love can be a most annoying obstacle to overcome." His relief visible, Harry explained his objections. "I took the liberty of examining the Connors family at length during our visit at their plantation, and I discovered they are not nearly as well off as they might appear."

"If that's what this is all about, don't bother with the rest. I know Brent won the
Delta Dawn
and that his family is practically penniless. So what?" she said, amused.

"So plenty, dear girl." Harry pulled up a three-legged footstool and straddled it. "I've been doing a lot of thinking about you and your future, and I have a lot of exciting plans for us after we finish this necklace business in New Orleans. How would you like to tour Europe with your father?"

Jewel's hand fluttered to her throat. "Oh, I don't know what to say. I appreciate your including me in your vacation plans, but—"

"Not a vacation, Jewel. A tour." He patted her knee, then explained further, "I can introduce you to some of the most powerful and influential men in the world: barons, earls, kings, even."

"But, I don't care about such things, Har—Faathah. My head isn't turned by fancy titles or wealth."

"Listen to me, girl," Harry cut in. "Believe me, it's best if your head isn't turned by titles and such, but think of the possibilities for your future. Why, with your looks and my experience, we'll take Europe by storm."

Disturbed by his apparent interest in her life, no longer sure how she felt about it, she asked, "Are you saying you expect me to rob someone like the king of England? Are you running a little low on funds or what? I don't understand."

"Goodness, no, my darling girl," Harry said through a rare burst of laughter. "I have enough capital for us to live on comfortably for the rest of our lives. It just seems to me that you might as well fall in love with a member of the nobility. I thought you might even be pleased with the idea."

Unable to look at him any longer, to see the childlike enthusiasm with which he discussed her future, Jewel stared down into her lap and began to pick at the satin braid on her jacket. "Thanks, but I really can't agree to such a plan. Not now."

"That's quite all right, and understandable, too. I simply want you to think about it for a while. In the meantime, I believe you'll be better off if you follow a few simple rules."

Jewel glanced up at him and raised her eyebrows.

Harry explained his stipulations. "I must ask that you go out of your way to avoid Brent Connors. He is obviously smitten with you, but I don't believe he pays you the proper respect."

Jewel's shoulders slumped, and she spoke in a voice that was very nearly a whine as she complained, "But, Faathah, he's harmless enough, and I
do
like him a lot. Why can't I keep seeing him until this trip is over?"

"Because, daughter dear, even though you say you don't love him, I recognize a few not so subtle signs in you suggesting otherwise."

Jewel's pout was genuine as she tried to think of a way to convince him that she could ward off this evil thing called love. But she was out of arguments, beyond examining her feelings, or unable to predict where those nebulous emotions might lead her. With a resigned sigh she said, "If that's the way it has to be, then, all right. But I really don't see how we can pull off this job in New Orleans if I'm not allowed to see him."

"Well, of course you must see him and even talk to him, but never allow Mr. Connors to get you alone. Is that understood?''

Hoping to end the discussion, Jewel gave him a short nod.

"Good. I think you'll be much happier this way." Harry stood up and resumed pacing as he continued planning the assignment. "Now then, back to business. Since the
Dawn
will stop in New Orleans for only one night, we won't have much time to put our plans into action." He rubbed his index finger across his chin as he studied her appearance. "Is this truly your only decent dress?''

"I'm afraid so."

"No problem," he said, resuming his thoughtful march in front of the settee. "We dock in Natchez for a few hours tomorrow. That would be an excellent place to get you a few outfits and perhaps even the costume I'll need to gain this Cajun woman's trust."

"Costumes?" she said, bright-eyed again. "You're going to be in costume?''

"Oh, my yes, Jewel dear." He spread his arms dramatically. "Your father is known as a consummate master of disguise."

Jewel chuckled to herself as she recalled the varying descriptions splitting the seams of the Pinkerton files on one Harry Benton. Grinning, she said, "I think I remember hearing something about your penchant for masquerade."

"Believe it, dear girl," he said with a sly chuckle. "Believe that, and the fact that after the Bentons have made an appearance in the Crescent City, it will never be the same again."

Chapter 19

New Orleans, Louisiana

Two days later

"I don't like it," Brent grumbled. "There isn't one damn thing I like about this idiotic plan."

"The only thing wrong with this plan," Jewel snapped back as they started across the massive width of Canal Street, "is the fact that you decided to show up and ruin it!"

Forced to rely on his longer stride to keep up with her, Brent waved a hand as he continued his objections. "Is that the thanks I get for coming along to ensure your safety? Do you honestly think you should berate a poor fellow who's only trying to protect you from harm?"

Waiting until they reached the corner to comment, Jewel turned on him, unmindful of the other pedestrians. "I never asked you to come along as my bodyguard, you know. I can take care of myself, Brent. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

He sputtered for a minute, then pointed to her costume. "That may be true in Chicago, but you're in New Orleans now. Do you have any idea what might happen to you if you parade around this town alone dressed like
that?"

She glanced down at the outfit she and Harry agreed would be most likely to catch Skinner's attention. The skirt was a plain brown sheath with a stylish, if undersized, bustle, but the black silk jacket was not so simple. Though high in the back, the entire front of the bodice was cut away in the shape of a large heart, exposing more of Jewel's breasts than would have been considered decent in any town. Her hair, pulled back at the sides and fastened at the crown with a saucy little hat, hung in loose coils and swung free across her back and shoulders.