Chapter 9
Brooching the subject.
Aubrey followed Alfie, despite the fact that they were going to his bedroom.
Regardless of everything, he trusted her instincts.
She had lived this life, lived as Alfie, breaking into houses and earning money enough to buy a life where she and Lill could be safe.
He could think of no one else he knew who had overcome such odds and recognised she was due her share of respect.
The idea of her breaking in and stealing the diamonds back, though.
That was another matter. If she was caught, she’d hang, and that sent a sensation akin to a lightning strike lancing through his heart, painful, sharp and white hot.
The world in which this extraordinary creature did not exist was not one he could contemplate.
It felt to him like he’d discovered a unicorn, something rare and surprising, and there was no way he would let her come to harm.
Getting Alice—or Alfie—to comprehend and allow that, however…
. Well, he was in for an uphill battle, that much was clear.
To his eternal relief, the corridors were quiet, their footfalls muffled by the extravagant carpets his grandmother had laid throughout the upper floors.
The elegant grandfather clock in the hall ticked faintly, but the only other sounds came from outside.
That blasted owl was still calling, and the far-off cry of a fox—too much like a woman screaming—made his nerves prickle, but there was no sign of Hawkney, and they made it to his room without incident.
Alice—Alfie—gestured to the door, and Aubrey nodded.
Feeling a little ridiculous, he followed her inside, closing the door carefully behind him. Aubrey knew his valet, Martin, would appear if he realised his master had returned, and he had warned Alfie to keep quiet.
Aubrey watched her move through his room, aware of the tension singing through her, the strained quality of the silence between them. She stood at the end of his bed, looking oddly uncertain. He recognised the moment she gathered her wits once more and became businesslike.
“The chest?”
Aubrey gestured towards the window. Martin had clearly been in to prepare the room for him, for a candle burned beside the bed, the curtains had been pulled shut and the fire still blazed, giving the room a cosy glow. The reality of the situation struck him then.
He had Alice Marwick alone with him in his bedroom, and there was damn all he could do about it. Was there?
He considered the idea as she moved silently to the chest and sank to her knees before it. She took out the lockpicks he had seen earlier, and he watched, knowing most people would be appalled but feeling nothing but pride as he watched her deal with the heavy padlock with a few deft turns.
He let out a soft huff of laughter, and she turned her head, regarding him curiously.
“You are quite marvellous,” he said, meaning it.
Though the light in the room was dim, he knew she was blushing.
She looked away to hide her confusion, but he had seen it in her expression.
Whether Alice or Alfie, she did not know what to make of him.
He could hardly blame her, he didn’t know whether he was coming or going, didn’t know what he was feeling, other than that the kiss they had shared had not been nearly enough. He wanted more, a great deal more.
Aubrey moved closer as she pushed open the chest and reached down, holding it open for her as she rummaged through.
“There’s a small wooden box on the right there. Yes, that’s it.”
Her nimble fingers sought and found the box and opened it, and he felt as much as heard her sigh as she saw the glittering diamonds revealed.
Aubrey smiled, feeling a surge of regret that he’d taken it from her.
Perhaps he could buy her something like it, something as rare and lovely as she was.
The certain knowledge that she would not allow such a thing, that her pride would revolt if he tried, was testament to his having learned something about her, he thought ruefully.
“Here,” she said, closing the box and handing it to him.
“Now what?” he asked, wondering what she saw in his eyes, for he had some interesting ideas of his own.
She glanced at him and away again. “I suppose you may as well put it back. This was only an exercise after all. I made my point.”
“Which is?”
Her cool grey eyes met his, implacable. “That you are entirely unsuited to help me with the robbery.”
Aubrey threw the box back into the chest where it landed silently on a colourful pink silk waistcoat his sister had bought him for Christmas, but even he would not have considered wearing in public.
She closed the chest silently, and he wondered how deeply she regretted leaving the brooch behind.
The crackle of the fire made the moment feel far safer and more intimate than it ought and he reminded himself of precisely what they were doing and why, knowing he would have to work hard to get her trust him.
He watched as she locked the chest once more, noting that her hands were not quite as steady as they had been.
“I don’t agree.”
She got to her feet, looking anywhere but at him now, her shoulders lifting in a careless shrug. “I don’t care.”
“Oh, I think you care,” Aubrey said, a taunt in his voice that made her turn sharply back to him.
He took a step closer, hearing her breath hitch as he did so.
Pausing, he gave her the chance to step back, to say no, but she didn’t.
Instead, she stood stock still, gazing at him with an expression of mingled terror and curiosity.
Aubrey hesitated, recognising the curiosity but not liking the terror. “Are you afraid of me?”
He expected a scoffing sound, an expression of bravado, but she only swallowed.
“Are you?”
“N-Not precisely,” she managed.
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you, though?” he asked, needing to assure himself on that point at least.
“Not purposely.”
Ah.
“Not carelessly, either,” he said, keeping his voice soft, reassuring.
She snorted at that. “We are from different planets. There’s no other way for this to go other than someone getting hurt. We’d be best served by sorting out the little issue of the diamonds and Silas Mourney, and then, supposing we both survive—which is by no means certain—we go our separate ways.”
Everything inside Aubrey rebelled at her words, making him want to demand she take them back, but he forced himself not to react. “Is that what you want?”
She smiled at that, a wry, weary expression that ought only to be seen on someone far older and far more cynical. “What I want?” she repeated, the words dripping sarcasm. “Like I said, we are from different planets, you and I.”
“Then move to mine,” he said, reaching out a hand towards her.
Alfie stared at it for a long moment, considering. Aubrey held his breath until she walked towards him, noting how differently she moved, seeing Alfie and Alice melding together as one person before his very eyes. Curiosity shone in those grey eyes, waiting for what he might do next.
Aubrey reached out a tentative hand, stroking the soft skin of her cheek and feeling strangely out of his depth. “I’ve spent much of the time I have known you wanting to wring your blasted neck.”
“I know.”
She met his gaze boldly now and flattened her hands upon his chest, palms moving over the dreadful black fabric, tracing the shape of his body and staring up at him with a look that made his blood fire in his veins.
He smiled, leaning down and rubbing his cheek against hers, breathing in the scent of her. “But I want to kiss you more. I want to kiss every part of you, to hear you sigh and admit that you want me as much as I want you.”
“There’s no need to go to so much trouble,” she said, and he heard the effort she took to keep the words casual, the slightly breathless quality that made his heart kick in his chest. “I do want you.”
He gazed down at her, seeing the truth of it in her eyes. She hid nothing, this impossible creature who hid everything, and he felt he was lost in the conundrum of who and what she was, and he didn’t care. He would learn her, do whatever it took to understand her, if she would let him.
“Kiss me, then. Make a ruin of both our lives. It’s inevitable now,” she said, pragmatic to the last, damn her.
“No, but I’ll kiss you and make you believe you’ve been sleepwalking through life until this very moment.”
“Promises, promises,” she taunted him, but lifted her face to his as he pressed his lips against hers.
Aubrey’s hands slid down her back, circling her narrow waist, revelling in the feel of her supple body beneath his palms with no stays or endless layers of feminine wrappings to interfere.
There was certainly something to be said for trousers, he thought as he backed her up against his bedroom wall.
Her slender arms reached up, twining around him, those clever fingers curving possessively around his neck, his shoulders, in a way he thoroughly approved of.
He remembered then what a complete arse he looked in the bizarre costume he was wearing but, as it didn’t seem to diminish her desire for him, he decided it was not worth thinking about.
There were far better things to consider, after all, like the fact that he’d managed to undo her waistcoat.
She sighed as his fingers touched warm skin, guiding his hand beneath her shirt where a small but perfectly exquisite breast was to be found beneath the black linen.
His other hand dropped to her delicious backside and squeezed.
Hell, but she was perfection, and he wanted her badly, his body reacting to her proximity.
Aubrey pressed closer until she could be in no doubt of his desire for her and felt her breath catch.