Chapter Eighteen #2
They couldn’t see Leo; he was standing a few storefronts down, so that he wouldn’t call attention to which shop they were in. Vivian wished she could see him, just for a moment. But they needed to get in and out quickly.
The safe was in a cabinet under the counter; Vivian pulled out the stacks of fabric samples that hid it from view.
Once she was bent down, the counter hid her from the view of the front window, and she felt her shoulders unknot just the barest amount.
Standing back up was going to be all kinds of unappealing.
Honor crouched down beside her, pulling out her light once more to illuminate the safe’s lock. Vivian could hear the unhappy hiss of a sharply drawn breath. “I can’t pick a combination lock, pet. And I don’t know a damn thing about cracking them.”
For the first time that night, Vivian felt confident about something.
She put her mouth close to Honor’s ear and whispered, “You don’t have to.
” She thought Honor might have shivered, and she wondered if it was from nerves or something else.
“Miss Ethel isn’t exactly what you’d call trusting.
But she has a real lack of imagination. Since she can’t do two things at once without losing her place in both, it never occurs to her that any of her busy seamstresses might be watching when she has to open the safe. ”
Honor turned so they were looking in each other’s eyes, their faces mere inches apart, closer even than when they were dancing.
Vivian could practically feel the curve of Honor’s lips as she smiled.
“But you haven’t worked as a seamstress in months,” she murmured.
“How do you know she hasn’t changed the combination? ”
“Like I said,” Vivian replied, unable to help smiling in response, in spite of her nerves. “Lack of imagination.” She turned back to the dial. “Shine the light this way?”
The last time she had seen Miss Ethel open the safe, the combination had been the address of the shop. And when she spun the dial and felt the click of the latch giving way, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they would get away with this.
The safe contained two modest stacks of cash, the money that Miss Ethel put in the register each morning. Vivian pushed it aside without a moment of hesitation. She might despise the shop owner, but she had no intention of robbing the woman beyond what she had to do to keep Florence safe.
Behind the money, the light caught an edge of folded fabric, striking blue and golden sparks from the gems sewn into it.
Taking a deep breath, Vivian pulled it out slowly.
The silk of the dress slithered through her fingers, unfolding like a woman stretching after a nap.
She and Honor both stared at it for a moment.
Honor let out a low whistle that was mostly air. “That is a pretty thing and no mistake. Your sister is an artist.”
Vivian stared at it. Drinking and dancing was one thing, but stealing was a different kind of breaking the law. Was she really going to go through with it?
They were the only ones who had received a letter asking for something to be stolen. As far as she knew, every other victim had owned their valuables.
Had the thief gotten greedy? Had their plan always been to eventually persuade other people not just to hand over their own things, but to do someone else’s dirty work in exchange for safety? Or was there something else going on?
“You said it’s not finished, right?” Honor’s voice broke through Vivian’s thoughts.
She had pulled two small, lidded tins out of the safe and was peering inside them one by one.
Glancing over her shoulder, Vivian could see that they held the remaining topaz and aquamarine stones.
There weren’t many of them left, but there were enough to be valuable. “Are you going to take these too?”
Vivian hesitated. “The letter just said the dress,” she whispered. “Miss Ethel’s going to be in a jam either way, but if she has these to give back, it might go a little further toward proving she’s not the one who did the stealing.”
She could feel Honor eyeing her with surprise. “Do you really care what happens to her, one way or another?”
“I’m not doing this to hurt her,” Vivian hissed, stung. “Besides, if she ends up in jail for theft, her store closes, and then all the girls who work for her are out of a job. I don’t want to do that to them.”
“If you leave them behind, though, you might get another letter,” Honor pointed out. “And once your boss realizes she’s been robbed, she’ll change the combination of this safe. You won’t be able to get back in.”
Vivian hesitated, then shook her head. “Guess that’s a risk I’m taking, then.
But I think if they knew enough to ask for these, they would have already done it.
” Deliberately, she took the two tins from Honor’s hands and shoved them back inside the safe, clicking the door shut and giving the dial a spin to lock it.
The gentle buzz of the tumblers felt unbearably loud in the silent shop.
Vivian hoped she wasn’t making a horrible mistake.
Before Honor could say anything else, the large clock leaning against the wall chimed the hour, and they both jumped. Vivian wound the dress into a bundle, then shoved it into a bag that she could sling over her shoulder and back. “Come on, we should get out of here.”
She glanced around the edge of the counter to make sure no one was visible outside, then motioned for Honor to put out her light and follow.
To her relief, the Nightingale’s owner didn’t try to argue or make her second-guess herself, just followed her through the maze of shadows toward the cellar steps.
They had almost reached them when a beam of light darted through the window and swept across the shop.
“Hey,” a deep voice called out. “Is someone in there?”