Earls Just Want to Have Fun (32 page)

High above it all, blissful silence reigned. The wind whooshed in his ears and ruffled his hair.

But even up here he found only temporary escape from the world below.

Beezle stood just behind him, his gaze as dark as the dirt under his fingernails.

“I could get used to a view like this,” Gideon said, spreading his arms like a king surveying his kingdom. He breathed deeply for effect, as the air up here wasn't much cleaner than that below. “Smell that fresh air. The wind in my hair. This is the life.”

“You do the trick, and you can have any life you want,” Beezle said quietly. With Satin dead, Beezle was the new arch rogue of the Covent Garden Cubs. Gideon had tried to distance himself from the gang, but old habits were hard to break. That, and Beezle was none too willing to allow one of his best rooks to walk away.

Reluctantly, Gideon abandoned the indigo and orange skies of London. “I pinch the necklace, and I never have to see your ugly mug again?”

“And here I thought it was the blunt you were after. A hundred yellow boys will make you rick as a gentry cove.”

“The necklace is worth ten times that.”

“The necklace is mine, and I choose to let you in on the game. Do we row in the same boat, Gideon?”

Gideon rocked back on his heels, imitating the swells who had all the money and time in the world.

Beezle waited. His expression remained hooded, but Gideon would have bet a shilling—if he'd had one—the rogue chafed at being made to wait. They were of a similar height—he and Beezle—and both had dark hair. That was where the similarities ended. Beezle had a narrow, bird-like face perpetually twisted into a malevolent expression. Gideon liked to think of himself as a rum duke. He bore no one ill-will and was generally good-natured.

He didn't want to row in Beezle's boat. Hell, he didn't want to be in the same ocean with him, but this was his chance. The blunt from this job would allow him to walk away from rooking. He could be his own man, start over in a new place with a new name. Be whomever he wanted.

He'd never make it out of London without first lining his pockets. It took guineas to start over, and that's where Beezle came in.

Gideon held out a hand, offering it to the devil.

Beezle's icy fingers wrapped around his flesh, and Gideon's belly clenched in revulsion.

“Let's do the trick,” Gideon said.