Free Art and Artifice by Regina Scott Page B

over
his coat before she looked away. The material was good brown wool,
the cut serviceable, but the garment was likely not nearly as fine
as what she was used to seeing on a fellow. He glanced back to make
sure the other two were safely in tow. They were the Courdebas
sisters, daughters of Viscount Rollings, he’d learned. He caught
the elder girl eying his shoulders as if wondering how strong he
might be. Her sister had already slipped a journal and pencil from
her reticule and was scribbling notes. She’d be lucky not to trip
over the crooked paving stones.
    “It seems we owe you our thanks,” Lady Emily
said as he faced forward once more. “You may well have saved our
lives.”
    So she did understand the danger. “You
shouldn’t be here,” he said. “This is no place for a lady.”
    Ahead of them, a knot of men had stopped and
were watching. Jamie gave them a nod, hitched aside his coat so
they could see the truncheon hanging from his belt. They turned and
hurried away.
    “Yet it appears you are well known here,”
Lady Emily said as if she’d noticed the exchange.
    Jamie chuckled. “Oh, I’m no stranger to the
stews. But you should be. Why would you put yourself in such
danger?”
    She raised her chin as if she didn’t much
appreciate the reminder. It was a decidedly determined little chin.
“While I acknowledge your help, sir,” she said, “I cannot like your
tone.”
    Very likely not. “I imagine most people bow
and scrape when they meet you,” Jamie acknowledged. “You’ll pardon
me if I prefer to save your life.”
    “Nice,” Miss Ariadne Courdebas murmured
behind him as if she approved of his phrasing.
    “Do you truly think our lives were in
danger?” her sister asked, and Jamie glanced back again to find her
looking about nervously. She had to notice that the shops bumped
into one another, the windows dark and dusty. Only the desperate
found themselves here.
    “Four beautiful young ladies, wandering the
streets with purses full of silver?” he replied, turning his gaze
to the front. “What do you think?”
    “Beautiful,” her younger sister muttered in
an awed voice. What, did she doubt it? Hadn’t they peered in their
looking glasses recently? Once they came out, he wouldn’t have been
surprised to find a herd of besotted gentlemen following them about
London like bleating sheep on their way to the market.
    “I don’t recall Lord Snedley covering the
stews,” Jamie heard the older sister whisper to Miss Tate. She’d
mentioned the name the other day as well. Was he related or someone
from their school? He hadn’t heard the name associated with Lord
Robert, he was sure. But then, who knows how many had been harmed
before someone had been brave enough to step forward and beg for
help from Bow Street?
    “I told them this was foolish,” Miss Tate
said aloud. Her hand grazed his arm. “And I for one thank you for
your gallant assistance, Mr. Cropper.”
    Jamie nodded to her, winning him a lazy-eyed
smile that was no doubt supposed to knock him to his knees in
adoration. As if Lady Emily had seen the look as well, and
disapproved of it, she tightened her grip on his arm. The movement
had a possessive air about it, but he found he didn’t mind.
    “It was fortunate you happened upon us,” she
allowed, detouring around an oily puddle. “And why were you in the
area?”
    Jamie grinned at her. “Even a fellow like me
can appreciate the sights of Bond Street, your ladyship.”
    Her cheeks turned a warm red. The color
favored her.
    “I told her he was following her,” the older
Miss Courdebas murmured behind them.
    “Positively romantic,” her sister replied,
pencil scratching even faster against the paper.
    Jamie couldn’t leave them with that
impression. “It wasn’t my intent to follow any of you. As a Runner,
I’m about in London a great deal. It isn’t all that surprising our
paths would cross. In fact, I might wonder whether you were
following me .”
    Miss Tate trilled