Anne Stuart Read Online Free Page A

great pleasantness. “Fetch it, will you, Hawkins, and present it to the young lady.”
    Jessamine half expected the majordomo to refuse, and she wanted that money in her hand quite desperately. But the deceptively light grip on her arm kept her from moving.
    She could see him quite clearly now, and she realized he wasn’t as young as she’d first thought. There was a hardness in his amber eyes, in his full mouth, that suggested a wealth of less than innocent experience.
    Hawkins crossed the room, sank down in front of her, and scooped up the sack of coins. She resisted the impulse to kick him while he was down, then accepted the agreeably heavy bag with a murmured thanks.
    “ Well done, Hawkins,” the man said. “Now you can have one of the footmen call a sedan chair for the young lady while you and I go have a little discussion with your employer.”
    He’d released her—dismissed her—and it took Jessamine a moment to realize she was alone in the vast hallway. She wanted desperately to take the time to see what the bag contained, but she didn’t dare hesitate. She wasn’t going home ensconced in the safety of a sedan chair. For one thing, she had no intention of spending her hard-earned money on such frivolity. For another, sedan chairs weren’t seen in the environs of Spitalfields, and she had too much sense to make herself conspicuous.
    The night was cool, but she didn’t bother searching for her wrap. She simply wanted to escape, both from the overzealous Hawkins and the disturbing presence of the mysteriously mocking Glenshiel. She had learned how to keep herself safe on the nighttime streets of London, and most of the underworld were far too aware of her connection with Josiah Clegg to dare anything.
    Like a shadow, she slipped into the night, thankful that there were no eyes to watch her as she made her escape.
    “ Naughty boy!” Isolde Plumworthy batted him with her ivory fan, almost breaking the delicate sticks with the force of her little tap. “Interfering with my servants! Why, I might almost think you were in collusion with that creature.”
    Alistair managed a faint smile. “I’ve never seen the wench before in my life, Isolde. But I have a weakness for helpless infants, and I disliked seeing Hawkins put his meaty hands on her.”
    “ So instead she escapes with my jewels! That is too bad of you, Alistair!”
    “ You know perfectly well she didn’t steal your jewels, Isolde. The Cat did.”
    “ There’s no certainty...”
    “ Since when have you expected life to have any sort of certainty? Your choice is simple. You can let it be known that you were gulled by a slip of a girl who made up fortunes and stole your jewels, or...” He trailed off, and Isolde jumped to the bait.
    “ Or?”
    “ Or you could revel in your status as the Cat’s newest victim. He hasn’t been on the prowl in months—clearly your jewels were enough to coax him out of retirement. I would take that as a compliment if I were you, Isolde.”
    Lady Plumworthy smiled a plump smile. “Very true.”
    “ And on top of that, you have discovered a true gem, a fortune-teller who can truly predict the future. You’ll be the toast of society. Everyone will want to hear about your adventures with the Cat; everyone will want to know where you discovered Miss Brown.”
    “ I don’t seek to better my position in society—I am completely secure,” Lady Plumworthy said with complete disregard for reality and her own somewhat tarnished lineage. “Still, you have a point, Alistair. Miss Brown has a real gift, hasn’t she? And those eyes of hers—quite deliciously unnerving. As if she could see through to one’s inner soul.”
    Alistair frankly doubted that Isolde Plumworthy even possessed a soul, but he forced himself to take one plump, beringed hand in his, pressing it meaningfully. “You are a very generous woman,” he murmured without batting an eyelash.
    Isolde smirked. “I never really liked those emeralds,”