Vienna Waltz (The Imperial Season Book 1) (3 page)

Fortunately, such activity excused Lizzie from accompanying Aunt Lucy and Minerva on their shopping expedition. New gowns were apparently required to prevent Minerva living up to the reputation the British had already managed to acquire in Vienna of being ill-dressed, and most especially needed for the masked ball at the Imperial Palace which would formally open the Peace Congress.

As she bustled about the house, her cousin, James, kept leaping out of his bedroom door to ask her opinion on coats and the style of his cravat, until his anxiety finally penetrated her own distracted thoughts.

“Are you going somewhere special, James?” she asked.

He flushed, making his appearance even younger than his years. “Madame Fischer invited me to her salon this afternoon.”

“Well that was amiable of her! Um…who is Madame Fischer?”

“The lady in the box next to ours at the theatre!”

Lizzie, about to hurry on her way, held still, instead. “The lady whose necklace was stolen?”

“Yes, wasn’t that shocking? But she is a great sport, didn’t let it upset her evening at all. She wasn’t even frightened.”

“Well, I suppose she’d no reason to be frightened since the thief ran off with several stout men after him. Leaving you to guard her,” Lizzie added hastily. “Have a pleasant afternoon.”

Leaving him, she hurried downstairs to join the children in the garden, where they were setting up a picnic in the midday sunshine and squabbling over who should be fending the dog off the food.

“Tie his leash to the clothes pole,” Lizzie advised. “That way he won’t reach the food, but he can still sniff around a bit.”

Michael duly dragged the dog a few feet away and tied his long leash around the pole. “We’ve been talking,” he said over his shoulder. “And though you’ve been very clever finding a thief, we think I should go with you to meet him. Just to show him you’re not alone.”

Lizzie didn’t have the heart to tell him that the presence of a twelve-year-old boy was unlikely to intimidate a hardened criminal like her blatant thief.

“Actually,” Georgiana interrupted her brother’s reasoning, “we decided we should all come, but Michael thinks it’s the male presence which is important. Rot, if you ask me.”

“No one
would
ask you,” Michael retorted.

“Because I’m a girl?” Georgiana fired up.

“No,” Michael said at once. “Because you’re—”

“Enough,” Lizzie interrupted. “I don’t want to scare him off, so I’ll go alone. Besides, I need you here to cover for me if anyone else comes into the garden – and to keep the dog quiet if he hears a stranger’s voice.”

“But we’ve never met a thief before,” Georgiana objected, clearly disappointed.

“Well, that’s one of the desired, if unwritten, accomplishments of a lady,” Lizzie assured her. “Do not, under any circumstances, number thieves among your acquaintance.”

The children giggled, although, sobering first, Henrietta pointed out in her soft voice that Lizzie had already ruined this accomplishment in herself.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m going to be a governess instead of a lady,” Lizzie claimed.

Georgiana crowed with laughter, but Michael said sternly that it would matter more. “What respectable family would employ a governess who associated with thieves?” he demanded, not unreasonably.

“Don’t be silly. Of course I won’t associate with him again once he’s stolen the necklace and sold it.”

“Indeed, why would you?” Henrietta said supportively.

“All very well,” Michael said, throwing himself down on the rug beside his sisters. “But what’s to prevent your thief from just taking off with the necklace and keeping all the money himself?”

“I thought of that,” Lizzie admitted. “But in truth, I’d find it hard to sell it myself. I think the only solution has to be that I stick with him from the moment he steals the necklace until we have the money.”

“Oh no,” Henrietta exclaimed. “What if he murders you in a back alley?”

Lizzie thought about the thief jerking the necklace from Madame Fischer’s elegant throat, then their rather odd conversation in the dark carriage. Although he hadn’t harmed his victim, there had been suppressed violence in his casual gesture and, she thought, in his hard, turbulent eyes. Drunk as he’d undoubtedly been, his true nature was difficult to guess.

“I can’t see him
murdering
me,” she said judiciously. “But all the same, I shall take Papa’s pistol with me.”

The dog began to growl as she spoke, pulling against his leash toward the back of the garden, where a gate in the wall led to the alley.

“What is the time, Michael?” she asked, her stomach twisting with excitement.

“Almost noon. Do you suppose that’s—”

The gate in the wall opened and a gardener in a big, floppy hat came in and immediately began raking fallen leaves into a neat pile. The dog stopped growling.

Lizzie rose to her feet. “Remember your parts,” she urged her siblings and tripped down the lawn to the main path that led to the gate.

The gardener pulled his rake out of her way and tugged the brim of his hat. She spared a glance to thank him because she was still getting to know the servants here and the breath seemed to flee from her body.

The gardener tipped his hat back on his head and smiled.

Lizzie’s heart jolted as the blood drained from her face. Although it was a rather charming smile, making his eyes gleam beguilingly, it only emphasized the recklessness she’d read in him last night.

“This wasn’t our agreement!” she hissed.

“No, but it looks much less suspicious than skulking in the lane, don’t you think?”

“No!” In fact, her main objection was to prevent him being near her siblings, though he did have a point about lurking.

“Are they your brother and sisters?” he inquired, casting a quick glance over the children.

“They’re just orphans,” she blurted, without much hope that he would believe her. “And their dog. Listen. I want you to take the necklace from my aunt in public, just as you did last night with Madame Fischer.”

“Couldn’t I just walk into the house and steal it now?”

“No! I can’t have suspicion falling on us and, besides, there’s no guarantee that the maids will see you do it.”

His lips twitched. “I have to be seen doing it? You know, for that kind of risk my percentage should be higher.”

“We have an agreement,” Lizzie said sternly. “And yes, the robbery has to be seen, just in case Ivan the—the vile cousin accuses my aunt and uncle of hiding it from him.”

The thief blinked. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? So where am I to steal it from?”

Lizzie drew in her breath, glanced around at the children and then back to the thief. “The Emperor’s masked ball the night after tomorrow. Do you think you can get into the Hofburg?”

“Anyone who likes will get in,” the thief said wryly. “Austrian security concentrates on much less tangible threats than thievery.”

“Good,” said Lizzie. “Because I have to get in myself without an invitation.”

“Why? If you’re to be nowhere near the theft?”

“I need to point out my aunt and the necklace to you,” Lizzie said. “But I shall be in disguise. Like everyone else, I’ll have a mask and domino. Oh, do you have such things?”

“I can borrow them,” the thief said blandly.

In the circumstances, it was hardly Lizzie’s place to quibble. She merely nodded. “Very well. So, you must steal the necklace—without hurting my aunt,” she added anxiously, “or the whole deal is off.”

“I’ll strive to control my violence.”

Lizzie frowned at him. “You know, you sound very educated for a thief. Your English is excellent.”

“So was my grandfather’s. And I haven’t always been a thief.”

Intrigued in spite of herself, Lizzie opened her mouth to ask more but fortunately a burst of laughter from the children reminded her that she needed to get rid of him quickly.

“Once I’ve pointed her out to you, I’ll leave and wait for you in a hired carriage. We’ll go straight to your buyer and split the money as agreed.”

The thief blinked. “Selling it may not be as simple as that,” he warned.

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “You had best make sure it is, because I shall be with you until the deal is done.”

To her surprise, a half-smile sprang to his lips and hovered. “Is that supposed to be an incentive?”

She frowned with incomprehension then began to flush as an unlikely meaning filtered through. “Oh for goodness’ sake, I don’t have time for such nonsense and I’m certainly not foolish enough to fall for your flim-flam. Five percent as we agreed. And only on the terms I’ve just stated.”

“You had really better do some gardening,” Henrietta’s soft voice said behind her. “James is at the upstairs window.”

A swift glance upward showed her James, back in his original choice of coat, his hair exceedingly well brushed. Catching her eye, he grinned and posed, pointing to his cravat. Lizzie gave him a hasty thumbs-up sign.

“You
are
Lizzie’s thief, aren’t you?” Henrietta asked.

“Oh dear,” Lizzie said faintly. “Henri—” She was about to tell her sister to go away while casting a quick, forbidding glare at the thief, who, like most people on first acquaintance, was staring at Henrietta’s incomparable beauty.

But at that moment, Michael and Georgiana both yelled as the dog, having finally broken his rope, launched himself across the garden toward Lizzie and the gate, which he was more than capable of jumping.

Resigned to the indignity, Lizzie leapt into the dog’s path and spread her arms wide to catch him. But it wasn’t the first time Dog had played this game either. He swerved, bounding between her and the thief. Michael darted after him and Georgiana ran wide to begin the hemming in process. Dog skidded to a halt in the corner and turned. He knew this ploy, too, and understood he had to bolt fast before Georgiana got too close. So he did.

The thief took something from his pocket, saying something casual in a language Lizzie had never heard before. As everyone readjusted their angles of approach to close in on the animal, Dog skidded to a halt and turned to face the thief, wagging his tail. The thief held out a piece of biscuit and Dog trotted up to him, happily taking it from his right hand while his left closed around the dog’s collar.

“Oh, well done!” Michael exclaimed. “Thanks!”

“Pleasure,” said the thief, clearly amused as he surrendered the dog to Michael’s charge.

“We were sure he’d go for the food,” Georgiana said, waving one hand toward the picnic. “Instead, he bolts for freedom and is then distracted by a much tinier amount of food than he could have wolfed up there!”

“He’s not very bright,” Michael agreed, pulling the dog’s ears. Dog licked his hand.

“He’s been cooped up for too long in carriages and inns and now this house,” Lizzie said guiltily. “We need to take him out somewhere and let him run. Somewhere we can actually catch him again before he exhausts us.”

“Take him out to the Vienna woods,” the thief advised. “With a large supply of bribes. He doesn’t actually want to lose you, you know. He will come back.”

“I know,” Lizzie said. “But it’s what he does
before
he comes back that worries us. After the Green Park incident—But never mind that,” she interrupted herself hastily. “You were going, weren’t you?”

“He could have some pie first,” Michael pointed out.

Lizzie glared at him. She didn’t want to say, “He’s the gardener!” Besides sounding far too lofty, it wasn’t remotely true. On the other hand, he
was
a thief, as Henrietta at least had already worked out and hardly a desirable luncheon guest.

“James would find it odd,” she said at last, aware of the thief’s gaze on her uncomfortable face.

“James finds everything about us odd,” Georgiana pointed out. “Even though he’s known us all our lives.”

“Well, imagine the difficulties strangers have,” Lizzie said tartly. “Bring him some pie, Georgi, and let him leave about his work.”

“I haven’t swept up the leaves in here yet,” the thief said provokingly.

Lizzie took a step nearer him. “You can’t be seen with us,” she hissed. “You’ll ruin everything.”

The thief leaned on his rake, a half-smile just dying on his lips. His unwavering eyes on hers didn’t blink. For some reason, that close gaze flustered her, though she refused to admit it by stepping back.

“What do you mean?” Michael demanded behind her. He lowered his voice dramatically. “Oh lord, Lizzie, is this
him
? Your thief?”

The thief laughed while Lizzie turned on her brother, scowling furiously.

“Don’t flap, Lizzie,” Michael said. “No one can hear. And I always meant to meet him, you know. To be honest, I’m relieved. He’s not so bad and he speaks well. So if he has to open his mouth at the ball, he won’t give himself away.”

The thief bowed ironically. Georgiana, arriving back with Henrietta, gave him a generous piece of pie. He accepted the delicacy with a murmur of thanks and then as an afterthought, a tug of his hat.

“What’s your name?” Michael asked.

The thief considered him. “Johnnie. What’s yours?”

“Michael. Do you—”

“Enough,” Lizzie interrupted, pushing boy and dog in the direction of the abandoned food spread out at the upper end of the garden.

Although Lizzie shooed her siblings back toward the picnic, bidding Michael tie the dog properly this time, her brother had brought up a point that had niggled at her since she’d encountered the thief last night.

Turning back to find him making a decent pile of leaves by the gate, she said, “How come you speak as you do? And in English, because you aren’t, are you?”

He seemed to hesitate. Then he said, “I was a soldier.”

“Ah.”
I haven’t always been a thief
, he’d said. It made sense if he was one of the many returning soldiers released in peace time from whichever European army he’d been with. There was a glut of such men with little to return to except unemployment, poverty and trouble. It made her feel better about engaging him, for almost a second, until she realized Michael had overheard.

“Really?” he demanded eagerly. “I’m going to be a soldier, too, just as soon as Henri buys me a commission.”