The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2)
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Chapter 6

Anna couldn’t have been more pleased with how the remainder of her visit to the school had gone. Wholly on account of Mr. Frederickson’s displeasure at having to follow her around like the lap dog he’d self-declared himself to be. He clearly had wished himself elsewhere, but as he’d grunted and grumbled endless times, until he could guarantee there was no threat lurking at the school, he had no choice in the matter.

Hopefully her enjoyment of his discontent wasn’t an indication she was a bad person. Especially since she was perfectly safe at the school, and the house for that matter. His diligent protection was unnecessary. Yet, despite this, she hadn’t sent him away. His preposterous claims on her character had earned him every moment of his own irritation.

Regardless of what it said about her, she couldn’t help but be delighted when they returned to the house hours later and he dismounted his horse in a huff of indignation. Mumbling something about having business to attend to, he stalked toward the rear of the house.

Anna’s only disappointment was not having the opportunity to speak with Evie alone. After Mr. Frederickson’s attentive interest in her friend, Anna made sure they’d stayed far away from her. Evie didn’t have anything to hide but Anna refused to subject her friend to more of the man’s questioning.

She entered the house and went to her room to change for the evening meal with her father. With him spending many of his waking hours cataloging his antiquities and the school consuming most of her day, mealtime had become the only quality time they regularly shared.

She was halfway through preparing for supper with the help of her maid, when thoughts of Mr. Frederickson crept back into her mind. She couldn’t deny the man was a threat—and not just to her temper. He was stubborn, arrogant, and downright condescending at times.

Until he employed his charm, something she’d most certainly noticed at the school. His smooth words, flowing off his tongue, combined with the perfect blue of his eyes. His downright handsome smile revealed a peek of white teeth, for once not clenched together.

All could prove to be very seductive.

Luckily, she seemed to spur his hostility, saving her from being the recipient of his captivating spell. Not that he’d have any reason to seduce her. Despite Evie’s attempt to downplay her attractiveness, her beauty found a way to shine through the severe hairstyle and frumpy clothes. Anna could be dressed in the top fashions and still not warrant any admirer’s attention.

A point proven when a flash of appeal had entered Mr. Frederickson’s eyes right
before
he’d started questioning Evie.

He’d transformed into a man capable of gracing any ballroom without offending anyone with inept social graces. It was probably a blessing he hadn’t offered his appealing nature the moment they’d met. A handsome face and smooth words had never swayed her before, but if he’d been amiable upon their first meeting, she wouldn’t have been so cautious.

She was a woman after all, and there was no denying the man was extremely attractive.

But his handsomeness was not the issue at hand. She needed to further her efforts to save the school without the man mucking it up.

Her hair and dress in place, Anna dismissed her maid. She had some planning to do and she’d long vowed to involve no one else. If she were ever caught, she alone would take the blame. Not even Evie knew of the very tangled web Anna had spun for herself.

She retrieved the ledger hidden beneath the everyday stationary in the top drawer of her secretary. She opened it to the last page, silently hoping the figures she’d tallied the day before had somehow reverted from negative to positive.

Her wish went unanswered. The amounts remained as bleak as before. Not even her clandestine activities had turned the situation around.

Which brought her back to the most pressing dilemma.

If anyone discovered
she’d
procured her father’s relics, not only would she have the law to contend with, she’d have to face her father’s disappointment—the only thing that gave her pause no matter how worthy her reasons. Each time, she promised herself it would be the last. That she’d somehow find another way to save the school from its creditor.

Despite how many payments she’d made with the supposedly priceless artifacts, she could never quite get out from under the weight of the debt. She was beginning to question how upstanding the creditor, Mr. Rollins, really was.

Even knowing Father would rescue her and settle all debts, she couldn’t go to him for help. Not now. It would be admitting failure—something she wasn’t ready for. There were too many young women counting on her to keep the school going.

Upon reaching her maturity, she had taken control of the school from the board her grandmother had assembled shortly before her death. Anna alone had changed the directive of the school. Instead of only providing to the nobility, it now offered teachings to underprivileged girls who needed the education to find suitable employment in order to secure their future, and thus not needing to rely on a husband or family for support.

There was a slight problem with Anna’s behest. Neither underprivileged young ladies—nor their families—had ample funds to pay.

No, she refused to give up yet. There was too much at stake. She would see this through and somehow repay her father for her treachery.

The most prudent thing would be to never get caught. Something she’d been counting on until Mr. Frederickson’s appearance. How could she have figured someone like him into the equation? Given the extensive collection, she’d hoped her father wouldn’t notice a few unimportant items missing. She’d underestimated his dedication to the antiques.

Anna closed the ledger and returned it to its hiding spot. She’d learned staring at the abysmal numbers wouldn’t miraculously alter them. One thing was apparent. She’d need to acquire another one of her father’s artifacts. The next payment was due in two days and Mr. Rollins had made it quite clear that if she didn’t have either money or some other form of payment, he’d take the school as retribution.

Obtaining—she refused to call it
stealing
—one of the relics wasn’t the problem. She would somehow find a method for repaying her father. No, the problem remained avoiding Mr. Frederickson during her dubious labors.

En route to the dining room where she’d find her father drinking his single, nightly brandy, she tossed around several ideas on how to dodge the impossibly attractive Runner. Nothing seemed plausible. The man had too much confidence to not have
any
skill. She needed to think of something he’d never suspect. Something he’d never plan for. Or maybe something quite simple.

Right under his very nose.

Lost in her thoughts, Anna stepped into the dining room, only to lock eyes with the very man she wished to avoid.

Chapter 7

Nate didn’t know how he felt about sharing the dinner table with the earl and his daughter. Whatever his thoughts on the subject, the alarm upon Lady Annabel’s face when she strolled into the room and found him sitting with her father, made him glad he’d accepted the invitation.

Given the tightening of her pink-hued lips, she was far from pleased.
Good.
Let her squirm. It was only a portion of what she’d earned by dragging him around her damned school for hours on end. He’d had to double his efforts to remind himself that as a rule he was generally an even-tempered gentleman who held a deep affection for women. Especially ones who were attractive, even in a subtle way. He most assuredly could not strangle one in complete exasperation.

Lady Annabel quickly composed herself and the tension surrounding her mouth eased with the smile she gave her father. Nate was astonished by the warmth and affection flowing between father and daughter. The very regard Nate had never received from his sire. Then again, not many noblemen gave a damn about their bastards. Nate’s father just happened to care less than most. Thankfully his mother had filled any void.

Brodford spoke and pulled Nate from his musings. “Anna, dear, I’ve invited Mr. Frederickson to dine with us.”

“I see that, Papa. How very kind of you.”

She might have coated her words with sweet innocence but the narrow look she flashed Nate said something else entirely.

He still wasn’t sure what had prompted Brodford to extend him the courtesy of dining with the family. By no means was the earl expected to do such a thing. Actually, Nate would have been less stunned if he hadn’t.

“Nothing kind about it. Mr. Frederickson might be here to do a job, but he is also a guest.” Brodford lifted his glass and took a hearty drink.

Nate remained watchful. What a complete contradiction to his general understanding of the nobility. The earl somewhat fascinated him. Nate’s dealing with his bastard of a father and a lifetime of condemnation by other members of the
ton
had convinced him nobles were incapable of empathizing with commoners.

Not to mention his history with the woman who’d sealed his opinion of the upper crust.

“Kindness or not, I am thankful for the invitation, my lord,” Nate finally replied. Not simply because his mother had taught him to be gracious, but because, despite his better judgment, he was beginning to respect the earl.

“Call me Brodford. I’ve never had much use for fancy forms of address. Plain silliness if you ask me.”

Nate dreaded to think what Brodford’s peers would think of such a proclamation. Some might even take it as a form of mutiny. Either way, in the strictest circles, it would hardly be tolerated.

As he happened to agree with the man, Nate dipped his head in acceptance of the request.

The serving staff brought out the soup and the conversation quickly changed.

“How was the school today?” Brodford ask his daughter.

“Delightful.” Lady Annabel turned to Nate with a glint in her eye. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Frederickson?”

Damn chit!
She was perfectly aware from his perspective there had been nothing delightful about it. She also knew, while sharing a meal with her father, he had no recourse but to begrudgingly agree.

“It is a very fine school. Your daughter is a rare find.” He shot Lady Annabel a challenging look.

In return, her expression softened to one of pure innocence and virtue.
Infuriating princess.

“It was very generous of Mr. Frederickson to devote so much of his day accompanying me while I dealt with such trifling matters. Why, his dedication could easily be compared to that of a loyal lapdog. I’d never felt safer.”

Nate held in the urge to snarl at her. Given her retort, she clearly disliked his double entendre. Too bad. She’d started it.

Oh, hell
. Now he sounded like a child. What about this woman, with her turquoise eyes and flashes of red fire aflame in her hair, stole his good nature and replaced it with a churlish boy? He needed to get himself under control.

“Glad to hear,” Brodford said, clearly more focused on enjoying the beef creation that had replaced the soup course, than deciphering the multi-layered undercurrent between his daughter and Nate.

Which fell in Nate’s favor. His current behavior nowhere near reflected the level of professionalism he normally employed. He hadn’t become so accomplished in his field by sparring with an upper crust brat. It was time to rein in whatever was playing havoc with his commonsense and return his attention to the thefts.

Set on ignoring her, Nate addressed the earl. “After returning from the school, I gave the property a more thorough perusal. There are a few vulnerabilities I noted but nothing to indicate how the intruder entered the house. Until the perpetrator strikes again, our best bet to uncover him would be to follow the stolen items.”

The earl ignored his meal as Nate spoke and he once again wondered if the older man was more astute than he appeared.

Brodford’s avid interest had Nate revealing more of his plans than he normally would. “I’ve already sent a description of the items to my supervisor in London. He’ll have our people on the trail in no time. I also inquired if the agency has anyone on retainer who specializes in the antiques you deal in.”

“Good, good.” The man returned to his meal, ending all discussion. Maybe not so shrewd after all.

“What of you, Mr. Frederickson?”

The firm feminine voice from across the table kept Nate from enjoying the beef sitting before him. He couldn’t very well ignore her with the earl present. With a sigh of regret, he met her questioning eyes.

“What about me, Lady Annabel?”

“I was wondering what you will be doing while others are searching for the missing items.”

The implication started a slow burn in his middle. Though he’d be damned before he’d let her know how her words struck him.

He flashed her his most wicked smile—the one he employed when he wished to prevail over a lady’s better sense. “I’m touched by your concern, Lady Annabel, but I plan to be preoccupied keeping you out of harm’s way. In fact, I envision countless hours spent in your company over the next several days.”

The corners of his lips twitched and he caved to the impulse to smile in triumph when her mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. The dainty miss was definitely not happy to be reminded he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Unfortunately, her displeasure didn’t have her scurrying in retreat. He almost admired her tenacity. Almost.

With her father still devoted to occupying himself with his food—the very food Nate was certain had turned cold on his own plate—she continued to address him. “Your devotion should be commended, Mr. Frederickson. Most men in your situation would have opted for a manlier assignment. Here you are, content with spending your days flittering about with a lady.”

He shot a hooded glance to Brodford to ensure he remained engrossed with his meal before he silkily replied, “Some of my best work just so happens to be when I'm
flittering
about with a lady.”

Her fair skin flushed scarlet. With a smirk of satisfaction, Nate turned his attention back to his food.

The man is insufferable
, Anna grumbled to herself as she fidgeted in her room, waiting for the house to quiet for the night.

She’d been so flustered by his admission of spending many
pleasurable
days in the company of women—and she could all but imagine what
that
entailed—she hadn’t gathered any valuable information as to how he planned to catch the intruder.

Worse, she was out of time. If she didn’t acquire one of her father’s artifacts tonight, she could say goodbye to her mother’s legacy.

Without payment, Mr. Rollins would call the debt, a deed which would destroy more than her hopes for the school.

Her only choice was to do her best to avoid the unbearable Mr. Frederickson.

And to pray for some luck.

She’d seen his determination as he’d vowed nothing would stand between him and catching the
thief
.

Right before he’d called her an overindulged, spoiled brat.

She refused to think on why his claim had caused an unrelenting fire within her. Could it be that as much as she’d protested, she was afraid he was right? Was she perhaps a tad overindulged and maybe a bit spoiled?

In her defense, she never asked or expected to be treated as such. Being the only child of a very caring family man, a little spoiling and some overindulgence was to be expected.

No matter how her father treated her, it had no bearing on the woman she wanted to be. The woman she had striven to become since the day she’d taken control of the school. The woman who would see all her struggles pay off. The students at the school were depending on her.

Fairly confident everyone had turned in for the night, Anna slipped from her room, tiptoed down the hall, and proceeded on silent feet down the stairs to the parlor where her father housed his collection.

Before he had gone on alert regarding the missing artifacts,
acquisitioning
items hadn’t been a challenge. With his vast collection, it wasn’t until two months after she’d made use—so to speak—of the first one that he’d noticed anything missing. She’d tried to keep what she selected to something that appeared unimportant and wouldn’t be missed. Consequently she'd underestimated the value he placed on every item and his commitment to get them back. Papa would do anything.

Even hire a rather cocky and entirely too handsome Bow Street Runner.

Anna reached the parlor, half expecting to find Mr. Frederickson standing guard outside the door. Annoyance still burned deep in her chest to admit she’d failed at uncovering how the man plotted to catch the thief.

If armed with that particular knowledge, she wouldn’t be so on edge.

As usual the door to the parlor was closed. Her father only left it open while he worked. Anna took hold of the knob and gave it a twist, pushing the door wide soundlessly. A feat only manageable due to the oil she’d applied to the hinges after her initial nighttime trip to the room. During her first attempt, she’d been so filled with terror of being caught, the eerie creak the old door had emitted had scared the wits out of her. She’d ensured it would never happen again.

Unlike that night, Anna crept silently into the room, closing the door all but a crack so she’d be alerted to anyone’s approach. Though she carried more than anxiety at being caught. Like all the other nights, her conscience refused rest. No matter what she called it, she couldn’t pretend her actions weren’t wrong. If her father found out before she could replace the items—though how she would replace one-of-a-kind items she had no idea—he would be more than disappointed in her. Never before had she earned his displeasure. She wasn’t sure she could withstand it.

To keep her night exploring as brief as possible, she always decided on a piece beforehand. This time it was an uninteresting talisman. She hoped its lackluster appearance meant it would be a few days before her father noticed its absence, yet held enough value to keep Mr. Rollins appeased.

Not wasting a moment, she ignored the objects between her and her goal and inched across the room, careful to avoid knocking over the many bits and pieces littering her path. If luck was with her, her father had been focused on the rest of his collection and the talisman would be where she’d spied it earlier.

Just as she reached her destination, a solid thud of footsteps rang out in the hall. Her fingers froze mere inches above her target.

An unsteady breath squeezed between her lips as she swallowed her panic . . . along with the urge to flee.

Be reasonable. Pause and think.
It was most likely a servant tending to one last chore before retiring. And maybe if she repeated the scenario over and over, she’d start to believe it.

Since reasoning with herself wasn’t working, she resorted to her secondary plan. Hide and hope the person would pass by. Forcing her fingers to move, she grabbed the talisman and shimmied between two sizable pieces of her father’s collection.

In an effort to complete her deed undetected, she relied on the moonlight so she needn’t worry about a flicker of light catching the passerby’s attention. Even so, the slightly opened door might be her downfall.

The household knew the door remained closed when unoccupied. Despite his devotion, it had been several years since her father had worked through the night. Anyone familiar with his schedule would find the open door peculiar—even if only a crack. Especially now, with everyone from the footmen to the scullery maids on alert for whoever was absconding
with the pieces.

Tucked behind a broad statue of some long deceased individual, Anna felt as safe from discovery as possible. Though she’d rather be tucked securely in her bedchamber. Hopefully if someone entered the room they’d never pick her out from the various forms of clutter. She huddled closer to the statue as the footfalls trod louder.

Silence rang through the room when the invisible person stopped outside the door. Paralyzed with fear, her breath caught in her chest, unable to pass her compressed lips.

At the soft brush of the door opening against the carpeted floor, her head began to spin. Thankfully, the wide statue at her back kept her from falling over in a dead faint. Through it all, a tiny voice of reason demanded she escape before her well-intentioned plans were ruined. Sheer will alone kept her from breaking for the door.

Around the edge of the statue, she spied her unwanted visitor. In the muted light, with only his dark frame visible, there was no mistaking who stood between her and freedom.

Mr. Frederickson.

She suspected he’d be a challenge but she hadn’t envisioned him standing between her and her task. If she somehow managed to make it out of the room undetected, she vowed to find a different method to repay Mr. Rollins.

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