Much Ado About Rogues by Kasey Michaels Page B

came anyway. You’re supposed to signal, Jack. It’s what you said you would do.”
    “I didn’t signal? How remiss of me. Will? Would you care to remonstrate with me, as well?”
    “Another time, perhaps. You’re at the mansion in Grosvenor Square, aren’t you? Doing a bit of showing off for the lady, Jack? She’s here with you, isn’t she? Couldn’t leave her where she belonged, not that I blame you, I suppose. A pretty piece.”
    “And here I thought you meant your apology of the other day,” Jack said silkily, even as he raised a hand to signal the barmaid for another glass. “There was a complication.”
    Will looked at him levelly. “They’re the very devil, aren’t they? Complications.”
    Henry Sutton had always been the buffer between Jack and Will, two men with rather high opinions of themselves when it came to their unusual talents, and rather an aversion to being considered second behind anyone else. Dickie Carstairs was a poor substitute mediator, but he did try.
    “See? There you go. Complications. I told you there had to be something,” he said, turning to Will after pouring Jack a glass of wine. “Had to be a reason.”
    Jack nodded to Dickie. “There was a child at the manor house. Not knowing what Sinjon could be up to, and how it might impact the daughter and the child, I felt it best to remove both mother and son to London until we know what’s going on. Half Moon Street wouldn’t have served. Have you had any progress at this end?”
    Will’s knowing smile would have meant his death if he hadn’t quickly turned it into a frown of concern. “Well done, Jack. It’s the marquis we’re after, not his family, correct? A child, though, and a male child at that. How wonderful…generally speaking. As for the rest of it? We know our elusive quarry alit just where we thought he would. We know he hired a man and a wagon to move a heavy trunk. We located the man and the wagon, visited the inn, and found the marquis gone when we searched the attic room he had leased for the space of one week. The trunk remained, but it was empty.”
    “He was still an old lady at the inn, although nobody there could remember seeing her leave that last time. She—that is, he left a small purse in his room, to cover his lodgings, I suppose, and left the trunk behind as well, as Will just said. Empty. Very nice trunk if I must say so myself. Oh, and it was the monk that left the inn. That’s twice with that disguise. He won’t use that again, I think,” Dickie supplied helpfully. “But that’s all we know. We don’t know what to do next, Jack. Does the daughter have any ideas?”
    “A few,” Jack said, thinking about Tess’s insistence that Sinjon was planning to sacrifice his life in order that Jack would kill the Gypsy for him. Not arrest him. Silence him. And without the Crown being given the chance to question him and perhaps learn of his dual role as Sinjon’s thief, along with the location of the collection. Otherwise, the Mask of Isis and the rest could not be bestowed on Jacques and thus assure the boy’s future, could it? He doubted Tess had considered that part, but he had. “I don’t put much credence in what she thinks. He fooled her as completely as he did the Crown’s none-too-bright watchdog, slipping away out from directly below their noses, which doesn’t say much to her powers of observation. She thinks her father summons the dawn, but we know better than that, don’t we, gentlemen.”
    Will snorted. “We don’t know anything you don’t tell us, and I’d like to go on record now in saying I don’t much care for your secretiveness. We work together, Jack. Moreover, we work for the Crown, not a daughter upset over misplacing her doddering old father.”
    “You’re questioning my loyalty, Will?”
    “Absolutely not. I’m questioning what hangs between your legs, and would very much appreciate hearing something from you that would alleviate my fears that your brain may