Chapter 4
Whilst he stared at the pistol leveled directly at his heart, Ban reconsidered his decision to find out who was using children to rob the most tempting houses in Mayfair before his own band of thieves got the chance.
Rather than allow one of his perfectly capable men to haunt the streets around Grosvenor Square in search of the diminutive young thieves, he'd taken the task on himself. A miscalculation at best.
How difficult could the job be? Those had been his last words as he'd departed the Chick Lane house and made his way to the stench-free streets of London's West Side. In light of his current predicament...
"Don't even consider it, you scurrilous dog," the cloak-clad warned him when he flicked his hand toward the Manton on his desk.
He found it difficult to take her seriously when he glanced down to see the worn woolen slippers on her feet.
Until he allowed his eyes to wander back up to her striking face and steely grey eyes.
"You two," he barked at the children who sat open-mouthed, hands frozen with spoons gripped tightly halfway up to their lips. "Take your food and go through that door whilst I talk to this mad wench." He gave a curt jerk of his head towards the corner of the room next to the fireplace.
"Don't you dare send them away," the woman ordered. "I am taking them out of this hovel at once."
Ban tapped the lever behind his desk with the toe of his top boot.
The inset door in the corner he'd indicated popped open.
"Go. Now." He did not have to tell the little ones twice.
When the intruder made to follow after them, he tapped the lever again, closing the door.
Then he stepped back and mashed the lever behind his chair.
A series of locks snapped loudly into place from all directions, sealing him into the room with his unwanted guest.
"I am no mere wench, sirrah. Call them back at once," she demanded and waved her pistol at him. "I'll not allow a miscreant like you to use them for your nefarious purposes a moment longer."
Ban settled into his blue velvet upholstered throne-like chair and threw one leg over the padded arm.
"You've broken into my house, pointed a pistol at me, called me a dog, and accused me of using children to do a job I am more than capable of doing myself.
I assure you madam, wench is the kindest thing I intend to call you before I summon my men to toss you out on your arse.
Who the devil are you, and how did you manage to come this far into my home? "
She didn't flinch at his threat. Ban had no idea what to make of that.
He took the time to study her carefully.
Her black hair was braided in one long plait that draped over her shoulder and fell well past the middle of her cloaked figure.
He had no notion what she looked like beneath those black folds, but he suspected she was rather willowy of form if her elegant neck and hands were any indication.
Her skin was the color of the pearls his brother, Warrick, had brought back from his adventures at sea, right down to the luminous glow whose source was a mystery in the pearls and most definitely in the woman.
She had a stubborn chin, softly drawn cheekbones, an arrogant sharp nose, and eyes that at this very moment fixed him with a glare half outrage and half righteous fury.
All in all, she made his cock twitch. Reason enough to make quick work of sending her back from whence she came.
"Fair is fair," she said primly. "You broke into my home, and I broke into yours." She looked about the room and sniffed. "Give me the children, and I will leave and never return."
Her home? The wench is a lady and a wealthy one at that.
"I did not break into your home. Had I done so you would have neither heard nor seen me.
I went in after the children who were sent there by someone else to rob you.
I fetched them out to discover who they work for so I can persuade him or them not to use children to do their dirty work and most importantly, not to trespass into territory I have claimed for my men and myself. "
She stared at him, eyes widened and then narrowed as she took in what he'd said. "You mean to tell me you took those children so they would not interfere with your own petty thievery?" Her outrage was almost comical.
"I run the most talented and successful band of thieves in the kingdom. There is nothing petty about my operations."
She huffed and then sneered. "Forgive me for offending your criminal sensibilities."
"For that you are forgiven." He inclined his head.
The more she talked, the more intriguing he found her.
Most ladies in her position would be a shaking, shrieking, weeping mess at this point.
She was indignant and perhaps a bit irritated, but he could detect not a wit of self-preserving fear in her face.
Nor in the way she continued to hold that pistol pointed steadily at his chest. "Now, if you will excuse me, I will summon someone to take you back to Grosvenor Square.
" He was struck by an odd thought. "How the hell did you get here? "
"Do stop swearing. I crawled into the space beneath the tiger's bench of your carriage." She raised her chin a bit.
Ban shook his head. He blinked a few times. "You did what?"
"I rode--"
He waved a frantically dismissive hand. "I heard you. I take it back. You're not a wench. You're a madwoman. What the devil were you thinking? Does your husband know of your nighttime activities?"
"My nighttime--"
"Riding at the back of carriages from Mayfair to Saffron Hill?
Creeping into the most notorious thieves' den in West London?
Pointing a pistol at strange men? In your slippers, no less?
" He was suddenly seized with an odd sense of fear and anger at what might have happened to a lady in the rookeries, the very worst part of London.
"What have my slippers got to do with it?" She glanced down as if she'd only in this moment remembered her footwear.
Ban leapt to his feet and ran his hand through his hair. "Not a bloody thing, I suppose. Especially to a man who should be keeping his wife locked in her bedchamber for her own damned safety. Do you have any idea where you are?"
"Locked in my...My husband is dead, you reprobate."
"Did you kill him or did he do for himself to escape you?"
"I certainly did not kill him. Though I am giving consideration to killing someone tonight."
He laughed. "Darlin', you're not even the first woman to threaten to kill me this week. I'd love to see you try. Do you know who I am?"
"Of course I don't know who you are. We have not been properly introduced."
"Properly introduced?" Not only was she a madwoman, she was infectious with it because he was well on his way to Bedlam himself, thanks to her.
He began to pace back and forth behind his desk.
The incredulous thing was she followed his pacing with her pistol.
"This is a fucking nightmare. Con is going to piss himself if he hears about this. "
"Will you please stop swearing, Mister Whatever your name is?" She waved the pistol aimlessly in the air.
He stormed around the desk and reached for the gun.
She stepped back and curled her finger around the trigger.
"My name is Ban Dyer, and I'd rather my gravestone not read Shot by a madwoman in the Devil's Lair.
" With one deft move he grabbed her free arm and dragged her toward the doors.
"I've got to sneak you out of here before anyone sees you. "
"Wait," she cried as she pulled her arm free and took a few steps back.
The lady was not as stoic as she'd led him to believe.
Her face paled. Her gaze was suddenly uncertain and a little afraid.
Good. A frightened lady would be easier to pack off back to Mayfair.
"Dyer. Dyer?" Her voice held a slight tremor.
"Your name is Dyer? As in the Dyer brothers?
The Four..." She pressed two fingers to her lips.
"Indeed." He swept her a bow. "Ban Dyer, master thief, guardian of Saffron Hill and White Chapel, and one of the Four Horsemen. At your service, Missus...?"
"Guardian?" She snorted, her fear all but gone.
She bit her lower lip and studied him so intently, the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
Never a good sign. He stood with his back to the doors out of his study and waited.
She furrowed her brow as if deep in thought.
In Ban's experience, nothing good came of a woman thinking that long and that hard.
"Mister Dyer, I have a proposition for you," she finally said. "A bargain, if you will."
Ban walked around her slowly, hands behind his back.
He reached for the frog closure at the top of her cloak and flipped the clasp open.
She grasped for the garment too late as the heavy, black wool slid to the floor.
His lovely intruder was a handful of inches shorter than him.
Her shape was that of a mature woman, no slip of a girl.
She heaved a put-upon sigh which lifted her breasts against the confines of the flannel nightgown she wore.
Time to end this before he did something foolish.
"As lovely as your many charms are, my lady, you have nothing I wish to bargain for at this time." He gave her his most wicked grin.
"Oh, for pity's sake. No matter where you lay your heads, you men are all the same. Tiresome and unimaginative."
"You have no idea how imaginative I can be, darlin'."
She rolled her eyes. "I have some housebreaking I need done. Something at which you say you excel."
He was flummoxed. "You want me to..."
"Yes, in exchange for information I now have."
"What information could you possibly provide me? Unless you can tell me which of your neighbors have the most easily transportable goods my men can acquire."