London Jewel Thieves

Chapter 9

"Code red."

As she leaned against the door, trying to capture a breath into her screaming lungs, Cass couldn't believe she was saying that word, red. Not blue. Not yellow. What the hell else could she do? She could come back, of course, she could come back. But what consolation was that right now when years had been spent planning every single aspect of this, squirreling money, visiting undertakers, even stealing the lovely jet mourning brooch that was pinned against her presently fluttering windpipe?

"Oh my God." Pearl gave such a start the crystal decanter hit the floor-mosaicked, so there was no chance of saving it. "Sorry, Cass. I never meaned-"

"God's sake." Cass bent forward, trying to snatch a breath. "When I say 'red' I mean 'red.' Don't stand there gawping. Bloody well move, will you? The bags. Now."

There was no time to pity the fact her life was as fragmented as that decanter, that she must leave here, the room she remembered being in with her mother.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. The bags?"

Cass clutched her side where a stitch bit. Had she blurted code red to Amber, Topaz, or any of the other members of the Starkadder Sisterhood, she'd not have seen them for dust. But Pearl, thick as dust on a forgotten tomb? And Ruby? Ruby's feet didn't just stay exactly where they were, on the frayed footstool before the fire, she sloshed another glassful of brandy from the bottle on the hearth.

"Whot the bleedin' hell for? Have yer lost it, Saff?"

It was so perfect here-the battered chaise, the old Mughal hangings, the things she had chosen with such care to put here in this monk's cell, the place she preferred, with good reason, to Barwych itself-she only wished the answer was yes, she had, and they could stay forever. How the hell could they do that with bloody Gil Gressingham on the prowl? "Chance would be a fine thing."

"Whot d'yer mean?"

Cass stole another breath. "I've been recognized. That's what."

"How ... no, hold them bags, Pearl, ain't no cause to go rakin' them out just yet." She drained the glass. "Recognized? My soddin' arse. How the soddin' hell could yer be recognized? I ain't ever heard such ... well ..."

Cass's mouth tightened. Of course it was hard to believe. "Well you're hearing it now."

"Bully fer yer. Recognized? Yer always did have ter be one up on us. Who was they? Some bleedin'nab?"

"Nob actually."

"Nob. Nab. Not much soddin' difference far as I can tell?" Ruby sloshed another glassful of brandy. "Oh, get a grip, Saff. How the tearin' hell would some bleedin' nob know yer?"

"Of course you'd want to reassure yourself."

"Oh, I does that all right."

"Because ... Because I kissed him if you must know."

Ruby laughed so hard she nearly broke her apron bib. "Yer whot? Yer? Oh, the sacred saints spare me. Pull the other one, it rings louder, don't it, Pearl?"

"A nob?" Pearl dropped her jaw open. "You kissed a nob?"

"Fast worker, ain't she?"

Cass squeezed her lips together. Their thoughts were crystal clear. Not only was she not as mysterious as the moon, and cold as distant constellations, Ruby had told her so. About the mixing with the toffs. Size-wise, a mistake as big as planet Earth. So now--too funny for words--she was delusional. Imagine thinking that her moral slackness in throwing herself at one of them, some toff with jam on, had wrecked it for them here? Well, she'd news for them.

It didn't matter whether she'd gone to Chessington this afternoon or not. In fact it was probably just as well that Belle Bassford had sat on their doorstep like a slab from the moment the trio had swept into Barwych.Just as well she'd found it impossible to believe Cass couldn't sew a fine seam or play anote of music. Or she'd never have been at Chessington today at all. In some ways Devorlane Hawley had done them an enormous favor. Imagine if she hadn't spotted Gil. Imagine him scouring the area and she didn't know about it.

"So?" Ruby settled herself back on the chair. "Kissed him and now we got ter run? Well, I ain't. How's that fer arguin'? Told yer we shouldn't let her out on her own-"

"You think I can't deal with Lord Hawley?"

She could. Although after what she'd seen of him so far, dealing with a pack of starving lions might possibly be a whole lot easier.

"Lord Hawley?" If Pearl's jaw dropped further it would join the decanter on the floor. "Isn't he Miss Belle's? Ooh, bet she was proper fizzing. Bet she-"

"Lord Hawley is but a small part of the problem." Cass picked herself off the door. "Would you like to guess who else I just saw on the Reading coach? Well?"

Ruby smothered a chuckle. "Not old Starkie, that's fer sure. The daisies that old bastard is kickin' up." She reached for another glass.

True. But it hardly mattered that every London newspaper had dutifully applauded Diamond's actions. That only last week The Times had reported it was safe for ladies to wear their jewels to parties again, as nothing had been stolen from their necks in weeks. Starkadder had been nothing without Gil. And Gil was here. At least he was on a coach, somewhere between here and Reading. It couldn't be coincidence. Either he wanted to turn them in, or he wanted them to steal.

Cass bent down to remove what was left of her slipper. It was hardly wise to take her shoes off with glass splinters everywhere but she needed to get her boots. The price was on her head. All those heists she'd pulled, largely to survive that fact and ensure she was worth more to Starkadder alive as a thief, meant not a court would spare her now. If anyone knew it, it was Gil. She tossed what remained of the slipper aside. "Gil Gressingham."

"Whot?"

"Yes. That's who. So neither of you need telling it's not safe for us here. We take our chances somewhere else now. The North Country. Ireland. Or abroad."

Pearl's gaze followed her across to the cupboard by the fireplace. "But, Cass-"

"No, Pearl."

"But don't you see if he was on that coach that means he's going to Reading? When we came here you said that's over twenty miles away."

"With plenty stops in between. He could get off at any one of them. Right now he could be outside having got off at ours."

"But, what if he's got relatives in Reading? And we go running away? What if there just isn't nothing left for him in London now Starkie's gone and been done in?"

Cass's laugh was humorless as she reached inside the cupboard. Pearl was young. Fifteen. Everything to learn. And so thick skulled it would take her twice that time too. "Gil didn't have relatives. Even his own mother disowned him at birth."

"But if you can deal with Lord Hawley, you can deal with Gil. I mean you and Gil ... Well, Gil anyhows ..."

Cass swallowed. When she'd opened her mouth and said she could deal with Devorlane Hawley-why not tackle a tarantula as well?

Yes, it was shockingly mouse-like to run. She'd been told at five to steal or starve, and Gil-Pearl was right about Gil--Gil had always looked out for her, the big brother she'd never had. She could handle him, provided he was alone, provided Starkadder hadn't somehow survived Diamond's murderous attack, provided Gil even came here. But the risk? The risk posed by the two men? She'd sooner run.

"Of course, if you can't do it ... " Pearl said.

"Me?" Cass passed her tongue around her lips. So, he came here and he expected them all to go back to stealing, if he was alone. Anger burned in her veins at the thought of each and every day of her life she'd been owned, pinioned, made to do things she detested and knew were wrong. Was Gil who she was running from though? After all, she'd escaped once and could do it again. For that matter he might never come here at all.

If she could deal with Gil, surely she could deal with Devorlane Hawley? Very well, he thought he knew her. All right, he more than thought, he as good as said. Was she seriously going to run from here, from her dreams because he made her fingers burn? Was she mad? He couldn't prove who she was. Not in a million years. All she had to do was keep denying it.

Run and underline her guilt? Run and relinquish her quest? What she'd sworn the night Matthew died, what she'd worked for? To find out beyond the shadow of a doubt if he was a son and she was a daughter of this place. While she could never be innocent, it cleaned slates of her being Sapphire.

Run and demonstrate to those it had always been vital she dominate, that she wasn't even half so formidable as she made out?

Run? Well, as she had thought a few moments ago, it was so very nice here. Why the hell should she?

She edged up her chin, the cupboard shelf swimming into her vision. Of course she could always come back, but she wasn't going to because she wasn't damn well going.

"Fine." She set her boots back on the shelf. "Just don't say I never gave you the chance to leave."