A duke’s heir was being pressured to take a wife, and that same man was now all but following Lady Della Haddonfield from the room—after having watched her for half the evening.
“Stay out of trouble,” Ash said, sidling toward the doors at the end of the room. “And thanks for the peppermints.”
“Don’t do anything stupid—stupider than I would do!”
Nine
“Step lively there, Horace,” Jasper said, knocking Horace’s booted feet off the corner of the table. “Time to go hunting. I’m none too happy about the last one getting loose, and the gin doesn’t pay for itself.”
The gin didn’t drink itself either, and the bottle on the floor of the stable’s saddle room was empty.
“Not tonight, Jasper,” Horace moaned, cradling his head. “Damned carriages everywhere, Quality about their amusements, too many brawny footmen on the street with nothing better to do than break my ’ead.”
“How are the dogs?” Jasper asked, passing Horace a flask. The flask was only a quarter full, which meant Horace couldn’t get falling down drunk even if he drank every drop.
“Dogs are mean, stupid, troublesome brutes. The big one’s getting worse. We need to get ’im out of ’ere. What is this? Cat piss?”
“Gin. We’ll move the big one when the price is right. Don’t do to make them bastards down in Knightsbridge think we have dogs coming out our arses. Trying to hurry that black brute along was how he got loose. Let’s go.”
They had to walk past the stalls where the dogs were housed. Two stalls were quiet, but from the third, where the newest mastiff paced by the hour, a low growl rumbled.
“Makes my ’air stand up, when ’e does that,” Horace muttered. “I pity the bear ’e wants a piece of. Won’t be much bear left.”
Jasper checked both latches on the stall door. Wouldn’t do for another valuable dog to get away.
“They pull the dogs off before the bear’s hurt that bad. Bears are trouble to catch, dogs come less dear. Give me back my flask.”
Horace took another deep pull, then handed back the empty flask. “What you got in that sack?”
“Ham bones. Figure we’d leave some where the last one got away. Never know when a dog might travel back the way he came, hungrier than a dog likes to be.”
“You’re brilliant, Jasper. A bloody genius.”
Jasper was a bloody busy man, with too many mouths to feed, and a missus with a mean temper. The traps were unreliable—they attracted everything from rats to cats to children—but the prospect of stealing another dog from some wealthy nob who could bring down the law…
A man could swing for stealing a dog from a titled household. Jasper got out his second flask, took a discreet nip, and led the way into the alley.
*
“What did you learn?” Susannah asked, for she would not be put off.
Investigating the disappearances of the dogs had been her idea, and if Will Dorning thought she’d sit on her tuffet reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream while he had all the excitement, he was daft.
“I learned that you will risk your reputation for a conversation that could wait until tomorrow, my lady.”
Susannah paced away from him, though she couldn’t go far because they were in a shadowed alcove at the end of a corridor. Their only other option was to step through the French doors onto the balcony, where anybody on the terrace below might hear them.
Susannah turned when she was far enough away that she couldn’t touch Will. “The evening has gone cloudy, Mr. Dorning, and tomorrow might well bring rain, so waiting until I can meet you in the park will not serve. If you don’t want us to be discovered, then I suggest you answer my question. What did Lady March’s staff tell you?”
Will brushed a lock of hair back over Susannah’s shoulder. Because they were both in evening attire, that meant her bare neck was caressed by the errant tress, and that caused her to shiver.
“You can be very formidable, my lady. One has suspected this about you.”
“Willow Dorning, I will formidable you right over my knee if you don’t answer my question.”
He looked intrigued, the dratted man. From around the corner and down the corridor came the sound of young ladies gossiping and tittering, and older women scolding them for their talk.
Will stepped closer. “I learned that Lady March hasn’t been paying her junior household staff timely, and her husband plays too deep. She’d be motivated to sell a valuable dog if approached quietly. The dog has likely not gone missing at all, and there’s an end to it.”
His eyes were beautiful, even in the low light of the sconces. Did he know that? Was that why he was gazing directly at Susannah, muddling her wits when logic was needed?