The Cracksman's Kiss (17 page)

Chapter
Twenty-One

“Emmie, I really do not feel up to a social engagemen
t yet.” Kassie hurried from the milliner’s shop with Emily in tow.

Emily smiled as the footman handed her up into the carriage. She wa
ited until they were both seated and their packages stored before answering. “Nonsense, you cannot hide away in the house any longer. It has been two months since my brother’s death. You have to get on with your life—you owe it to Cohen and Lucca.”

Kassie sighed and glanced
out the window. “What about keeping a low profile?”

“Everyone believes you are Cohen’s widow and, therefore, a French citizen.”

“I just do not fit into the social scene, nor do I wish, too.” Kassie frowned at Cohen’s sister. “I never did.”

“Come on, you know young Mr. Jacquie is quite smitten wi
th you. You could do worse, you know. I hear he has a very promising up and coming career in politics.”

Kassie shrugged. “I would rather die an old maid than marry again
. Besides, I doubt Mr. Jacquie would wait seven years to marry me.”

Emily sighed. “I suppose you are right.” Her eyes bright
ened. “Why not? Auggie has been courting me for five years. He says he wants to earn his fortune before he asks Devon for my hand.”

Kassie
bit her lip and looked out the window as the carriage topped the rise above Ashton Castle. Poor Emily did not know of Auggie’s promise to Cohen. It was time she struck out on her own. It would not do for her to allow him to marry her when faithful Emily waited all these years. Emily was her friend, the last thing she wanted to do was hurt the woman. As the carriage rolled down the incline and through the gates to the castle, Kassie made up her mind to leave.

“So? Will you come with us to the opera tonight?”

Kassie shook her head with a small smile. “Not tonight, perhaps next time, Emmie.”

The carriage rolled to a stop and a footman rushed to help
them down. Kassie headed to her room. She was relieved to find her maid not in attendance. Tossing her reticule on the dressing table, she crossed to the bed. The oriental box sat on the bedside table. She picked it up, flipping the lid open. Still inside was the sack of coins Auggie gave her before he left. There was more than enough to set her up in a small house and meet her needs until she found a job.

Tucking the money back into the box, she turned and
pulled a large satchel from the wardrobe. One by one she packed her clothes, keepsakes, and accessories into it. By the time the maid showed up to help her dress for dinner, everything she wanted to take with her was packed and stowed away beneath the bed. After she dressed, she made her way to the dining room. The room was in its usual uproar.

Little William broke away from his nursemaid when he spied her and flung himself against her
skirts, howling to be picked up. Kassie’s heart pinched, but she scooped Melissa’s youngest child up into her arms. She cuddled him for a moment before she handed him back to the nursemaid. Would she ever get over the pain of cuddling another’s child?

Melissa smiled at her, her eyes sad and apologetic.

They all pity me.
Hiding her feelings, she took her seat. She would miss this, the noise, the camaraderie, but it was time to go. She sat through the meal, answering when she was questioned, but not volunteering any conversation of her own. When the time came for the ladies to retire to the parlor, she made her excuses and went to her room. She would wait until they left for the opera and make her way to the docks of Marseilles where she would find a ship to take her … somewhere.

It was we
ll past dark when Kassie purchased passage on a mail coach bound for Bordeaux. Traveling by coach was preferable to braving the waves of seasickness that would surely result from a voyage by ship. After handing her satchel to the coachman, she climbed aboard. She squeezed into the seat between an enormously fat lady of apparent gentle breeding and a low class man who reeked of gin. The man across from her gave her a sweaty nod. She glanced at the other two beside him. The older man by the window was snoring and a young boy of about eight sat between the two. She smiled at the boy who stared back at her. He blinked, and then turned his attention out the window as the coach lurched into motion. The drunken man flopped against her, his stale breath washing over her.

Gasping, she covered her nose with her handkerchief. P
erhaps the ship would have been better. The coach raced through the darkness, leaving Kassie with little else to do but think or sleep, the latter being uncomfortable and not without risk. She shifted the drunken man toward the window and clutched her reticule. Auggie’s money would enable her to rent decent lodgings for a month or two, in which time she hoped she could find a job.

She peeked at the young boy from under lowered lids. His ey
es were closed and she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. The older man beside him shifted before opening his eyes. He glanced at her and reached into the case at his feet, pulling out a napkin-wrapped package and a canteen. With a smile he folded back the linen to expose a couple of biscuits loaded with ham and cheese. He held out one to her with a friendly smile. When her stomach gurgled his smile widened into a grin.

Kassie reached for a sandwich. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded. “Monsieur LeBonnet.”

They ate in silence for a moment. When she was finished w
ith her meal, he passed her his canteen. She drew the cork and tasted the sweet elderberry wine within. After a couple of sips, she handed it back with a smile of thanks.

He took a long drink, and then put the lid back on and placed it back into the case at his feet.
“My wife made the wine. It is good, oui?”

Kassie smiled and nodded.

He smiled again. “What are you doing out on your own at this time of night?”

“I am going to Bordeaux.” She glanced around the coach, bu
t the other occupants were fast asleep. “I am hoping to find a position there.”

The man nodded as if he did not find a woman alone seeking em
ployment at all unusual. “I am from Bordeaux. What kind of position are you looking for, Mademoiselle?”

“I have helped my father keep the books for the parish sin
ce I was old enough to read and write.”

He nodded. “I see. As it happens, I am in need of a bookkeeper for my investing house.”

Kassie regarded him through narrowed eyes. Was he a lecher, or did he, in fact, need someone to help as he proclaimed? He smiled again and handed her his card. She glanced at the header. He did own an investment company.

“I can offer you thirty guineas a month.”

“Thank you, Monsieur. I will gladly accept your offer.” Kassie tucked the card in her reticule. Here she was, not a full day yet on her own, and she had already found employment.

She closed her eyes.
I will be fine.

* * * *

Cohen left his luggage at the docks and rented a horse to take him home. His eagerness to see Kassie made him too impatient to sit idle in a coach. He shifted the tartan he borrowed from

Auggie that now held Lucca and leaned forward to urge the horse faster.

“Slow down, Cohen!”

He glanced over his shoulder at the Scotsman. The big man
’s horse struggled to keep pace with his. He tightened the reins and slowed his mount to an easy lope.

Auggie caught up. “The lass will still be there when ye get h
ome.”

Cohen cast him a sheepish smile. “I cannot wait for her to
see Lucca, alive and well.” He looked back up the road as his home came into view. They clattered along the cobblestone drive and up to the steps. Cohen leaped from the horse as soon as it stopped and tossed the reins to a startled gardener. He took the steps, two at a time.

“Cohen.”

He paused with his hand on the knob and looked back at his friend.

Auggie pinned him with a solemn look. “Use caution, Cohen, remember
they all think yer dead.”

Cohen nodded and opened the door. His footsteps echoed as
he crossed the empty foyer. He stopped and looked around. Where was everyone? A door opened, voices drifting down the hall from the family parlor. Turning on his heel he headed down the corridor. He stepped across the parlor threshold and scanned the room. Emily sat on the settee, wringing her hands; Penny and Clare beside her, patting her shoulders. Devon and Raoul stood by the fire with their backs to him. The other women stood in the middle of the room, huddled in serious conversation.

There was never a dull moment in the Ashton household. He grinned and cleared his throat.
One by one, nine pairs of eyes focused on him, and then widened in disbelief. Emily turned paler, if that was possible; Penny and Clare gasped in unison and everyone else just stared.

He chuckled. “Is anyone going to welcome me home?”

Melissa let out a shriek and bolted into his arms. “Cohen? Oh, Cohen, is it really you?”

He wrapped his arms around her, careful not to squish L
ucca as Devon and Raoul crossed the room and slapped him on the back. “Yes Mel, it is really me.” He disengaged her arms as the others came to hug him.

Emily smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek as if to prove
to herself he really was flesh and blood, not a ghost. “Auggie said you were dead.” He smiled and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.

“I thought Auggie and Kassie were dead, too.” Lucca let out
a thin cry and Cohen lifted him out of the makeshift sling. “As you can all see, I am very much alive. This is my son, Lucca.”

Auggie entered the room and Emily threw herself into his
arms. “Dear Auggie, you brought our Cohen back home to us.”

Auggie’s face turned red but
he laughed. “We found each other.”

Cohen smiled and hugged Devon. “Where is Kassie?”

The joyous tone of the room sobered. Devon dropped his gaze to the carpet, and Emily looked as if she was about to cry.

Finally, Penny spoke. “She is gone, Cohen.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Gone? What do you mean? Where did she go?”

Devon placed his hand on Cohen’s shoulder. “I am sorry
, brother, Kassie ran away last night.”

“Why?” Cohen shook his head, trying to make sense of their words.

Emily sighed as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I guess she was ready to go. She thought you and Lucca were dead. I told her someone would wait for her if they really loved her like I have been waiting for Auggie. I guess she did not believe me.”

Auggie groaned. “I told her I would wait until the earl decla
red her dead then I would marry her to keep my promise to Cohen.” He glanced down at Emily. “I’m sorry, I should ‘ave told ye. I only made the promise to ease her mind. I was sure she would find someone else before long. I suspect she left when she found out ye had feelings for me, Emmie. She would not ‘ave wanted to steal me away and hurt ye.”

“Where would she go?” Cohen looked dow
n at Lucca, gurgling in his arms.

P
enny took the baby from him as Devon squeezed his shoulder. “Raoul and I have scoured Marseilles, but there is no sign of her.”

Cohen shook his head. “I was going to marry her. Everton is dead, she is free to marry
…” His voice grew so thick with anguish that he could not continue.

Devon sighed. “We will find
her little brother, I promise.”

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Kassie sighed and closed the ledger book. After rubbing h
er tired eyes she looked at the clock.
Another day done.
Pushing herself off the stool, she plucked her shawl from the chair and headed for the office in the back. She poked her head around the door. “Au revoir, Monsieur LeBonnet.”

The older
man looked up from his legal book and smiled. “Au revoir, Madame Everton. Have a grand day off.”

She took her usual route home along the boardwalk of the sl
eepy seaside town of Rochefort. The baker waved to her as she passed and she waved back.
It is a nice town. Everyone is friendly
and helpful.
She nodded to the cobbler’s wife, Antoinette. A little over six weeks since Kassie’s arrival, yet it was as if she had lived here all her life.

Young Basille Montonee stepped from his shop of fine silks
and fell into step with her as was his habit of late. “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Everton.”

“Bon soir, Monsieur Montonee.”
Kassie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She did not have anything against the man, but his pursuit of her was wearing. Despite that she favored him with a sweet smile, unwilling to hurt his feelings. He pushed his spectacles further up his nose and smiled back. He was of average height and average build. His curly brown hair gave him a very young look. She could do worse, or so Antoinette said just the other day.
I am not looking for a husband.

Basille smiled. “There is a soiree at Monsieur Boigne’s t
onight. I hoped you would come, s’il vous plait.”

Kassie frowned. “I am sorry, Monsieur, but as you ca
n see by my dress I am still in mourning.”

The young man shrugged. “Ah, chere amie, has it not bee
n long enough to leave off your mourning? Long periods of grief are so
du vieux temps
, these days,
n’est-ce pas?
”

“
Tiens!
I was not aware mourning was so out of fashion these days,” she said with a little ice tingeing her tone. When the man looked pained, she softened. “Perhaps I shall come for a little while, but do not expect me to dance.”

Basille nodded and gave her a triumphant look.
“Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle. I shall come for you at eight o’clock.”

Kassie nodded. Basille smiled, tipped his hat, and hurried back in the direction of his shop.

She shook her head and turned the corner, hurrying up the steps to her rented lodgings. A familiar voice called out to her. “Lady Everton?”

She swung around, her eyes settling on a young sailor crossin
g the street toward her. Wiping a hand across her eyes she looked again.
It cannot be!
“Alex? What are you doing here?”

“My ship is docked ‘ere for cargo. I saw you from ze deck.” He smiled.

“I am happy to see you, Alex.” She missed his friendly banter.

Alex
blushed. “And I you, how is Auggie?”

Kassie folded her arms across her chest. “He is not with me. I am alone.”

He looked puzzled for a moment, his brows knitting together. “Ah, well, I would be … pleazed to call on you, oui?”

“I would like that.” She grinned.

Alex tipped his hat. “Au revoir.”

“Au revoir, Alex,” Kassie returned
, and then opened the door as he strolled away. She entered the small parlor and hung up her shawl. After kicking off her slippers she padded in her stocking feet into the small, but tidy, kitchen to put on a pot of tea. Already she was regretting accepting Basille’s invitation for the evening. She filled the kettle and set it on top of the little potbellied iron stove. After a long day she certainly did not feel like dancing and making merry. Opening the stove door, she added a few pieces of coal to the meager glow to heat the water and warm the room. Summer would be here soon but there was a still a little spring nip in the air.

She stepped into the only other room in the house, th
e bedchamber, and looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror. A smudge of ink marred the bridge of her nose and wisps of hair framed her face where it had come out of her tidy braid. She better hustle if she was to be ready by eight. The tea kettle whistled, and she hurried back to the kitchen. After pouring herself a cup of tea and spreading some preserves on a cold biscuit, she returned to her bedchamber. She flipped through her gowns as she munched, finally settling on a dark blue satin evening dress. Glancing at her waist in the mirror she frowned. Hopefully the dress would still fit without the usual corset underneath. Popping the remaining piece of biscuit into her mouth, she headed back to the kitchen to heat up enough water for a sponge bath. The luxury of a bathing tub was something she missed.

* * * *

Kassie finished tying her hair back with a silver ribbon and crossed the room to answer the knock at the door, snatching her reticule up from the dressing table, and donning her slippers as she went. Basille stood on the other side, dressed in a fine suit of dark green broadcloth. He smiled and held out his arm. Forcing a smile to her lips, she placed her hand on his arm. They left the little house and climbed into a rented coach for the short trip to the fancier houses of the merchant class. When they arrived at the small brick mansion, Kassie allowed Basille to help her from the coach and escort her up the steps into the modest ballroom.

Heads turned as they walked through the door and Kassie
wondered for a moment why she agreed to come. Many of the women whispered behind their fans, a few she knew already nodded.
They are probably wondering why such a pious widow, who spends all her free time in the church praying, would come to a social event.
She lifted her chin.
Who are they to judge me? Cohen
would be proud to see I have grown a backbone since his death. No one is ever going to tell me
what to do or how to feel again.

Music began to play as Basille escorted her to a line of chairs placed along the far wall.

“Can I get you a glass of punch?”

Kassie nodded,
glad she spent all that time learning French from Alex. Her mind wandered back to their meeting on the steps of her house. It was nice to see him again. It was as if she could feel Cohen and Lucca when he talked to her. The familiar pain in her breast at the thought of Lucca returned.
Will the ache go away someday soon?

Basille returned with the promised glass of punch. He hande
d it to her and sat beside her. Sipping the tart drink, she watched the people as they mingled and danced. The pretty pastel-colored gowns swirling and twirling mesmerized her, bright in contrast to her darker half-mourning one.

“Mademoiselle?”

She shook her head and looked at Basille. “I am sorry, you were saying?”

He patted her hand and smiled. “No need to apologize my d
ear. I wanted to talk to you. I have made no secret of my feelings for you, and I think you feel the same.”

The smile on her face froze into a stiff mask.
Oh dear God. Is the silly little man going to
ask me to marry him?

He smiled. “Since there is no one else to ask, well, I won
dered if you would permit me to court you.” The look in his eyes was desperate, almost pleading.

She swallowed. Courting was the last thing on her mind righ
t now. It was only three months since Cohen and Lucca were killed. Even if she was interested in the cloth merchant, she certainly could not consider a courtship at this time. “I am sorry, Monsieur Montonee, but I am not up to being courted just yet.”

He looked crestfallen. “Surely it has been long enough to
ease your grief? I swear I will court you with the utmost respect and reverence. I will give you everything you need, a fine house, silks, servants, and anything else your heart desires.”

Kassie shook her head. “I am sorry
, I am just not ready,” she replied with gentle force.

A half smile lifted the corner of his lip. “Then I shall wait u
ntil you are ready to accept my suit.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

He nodded, but his eyes took on a strange light. “Do not wait too long, Mademoiselle Kassandra, for I can be a very impatient man.”

Kassie filed the comment away as a future warning with an uneasy feeling.

Basille reached out and squeezed her hand, the strange look in his eye replaced with a sheepish grin. “I am sorry. I did not mean to speak to you in this way. Please, let me make it up to you.”

“That is quite all right. I suppose I am just tired.” Kassie withdrew her hand from his.

He nodded. “It must be hard on you to have to earn your own way.”

Kassie nodded, looking away.

“Please, allow me to show you Monsieur Boigne’s wonderful garden. He has quite an interesting collection of animals housed there.” He stood and held out his hand.

Kassie’s curiosity was roused. “What kind of animals?”

He smiled and winked. “Ah, a most impressive menagerie of African ones, I am told.”

She hesitated. “I do not think it is appropriate to walk in the gardens unescorted.”

“Ah, but all the couples here do, the walkway is lit so there is no danger of being out of sight of the main house.”

She really would like to see the strange animals. Th
e elephant on the dock was very exciting. Perhaps there was another one in the garden here she could view close up? She allowed him to help her to her feet. “All right.”

Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he smiled and led
the way out the double doors to the garden. Kassie was relieved to discover the paths were indeed lit by lanterns hung every few paces. Basille led her to an assortment of large iron cages placed along the back wall of the garden. The first cage contained a funny looking brown animal. It swung back and forth from a perch in the cage by its long arms and tail. Kassie stepped closer and the animal let out a series of grunts and squeals. It sounded like it was cackling at her. “I have never seen anything like it,” she breathed, fascinated. “It is almost like a furry little person.”

She stepped away and wa
ndered to the next cage. An immense spotted cat looked back at her. His intense, yellow eyed gaze raised goose bumps on her arms. When he yawned, exposing a large set of fangs, she shivered and clutched Basille’s hand. “He looks something like the statue the earl used to have from Egypt.” She took a step back as the cat stood and stretched.

Basille laughed.
“Does he scare you, Kassandra?”

Kassie nodded, uncomfortably aware of Basille’s hands st
roking her collarbone. When she opened her mouth to protest he pressed his clammy lips to hers, and then trailed sloppy kisses down the side of her neck. She tried to push him away, but he pinned her arms against her sides with one of his. He slipped his free hand into the top of her bodice.

“Monsieur!”

“Oh, how I want you, ma cherie.” He groaned, his erection pressing against her thigh, and then crushed his lips hard against hers in a bruising kiss.

Kassie whimpered and renewed
her struggles as his fingers pinched her breast. His strong cologne made her want to sneeze, his mushy lips and roving hands repulsing her. She did the only thing she could think of and sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his hand. He swore, jerking his hand away and then shoved her forward, kicking her legs out from under her at the same time. She fell, face first to the ground, gasping as the wind was knocked out of her. Before she could take action he flipped her over and pinned her.

“Let me go or else I shall scream!”

He smiled, the strange light in his eyes glinting with savage intent. “Go ahead, scream. Do you think anyone would believe your word over mine if I tell them you came on to me? I know who you are, Lady Everton.” His voice grew cold and deadly calm. “Your husband is very much alive. You are hiding from him. Do you know he has offered a great amount of money for your return?”

“How do you know?” Kassie stared up at him, stunned.

“I have friends in high places in English government. All of London is a-buzz with the story of your ‘kidnapping’ and the theft of the earl’s priceless artifacts. His reward would allow me to travel and hire someone to look after my shop.” He sneered.

Kassie found her voice. “My husband would not be happy
to have me returned to him ill-used.”

“Madame, the reward was offered ‘dead or alive.’” He snicke
red. “So, you see, if I take my sport with you first. It will not matter much to your husband.”

She swallowed. “Please Basille, let me go. You have no idea
how horrible a person the earl is. He probably will not honor his reward.”

“I will take my chances.” He shrugged. “The way I see it
you have two choices, my dear. You can become my willing mistress, in such case if you please me I might be persuaded to release you at some point after I have tired of you, of course. Or, I can rape you as I please then return you alive or dead to the earl.”