The Cracksman's Kiss Read online

  The maid shook her head and removed the tray.

  “I have to get my son and find a way to escape.” Kassie lifted her chin with resolve. “I will find a way.”

  “The door is still locked,” Sally reminded her. “Even if you could get away from here where would you go, and how would you get there without coin?”

  “I do not know, Sally. I do not know.” The thin lifeline of hope she clung to was fading rapidly.

  Sally sat on the edge of the bed, her face a mask of despair. “The earl is having a party tonight. Perhaps the comté will be there and I can ask him what to do.”

  “If the comté was going to help me, Sally, he would have sent word I am sure.”

  * * * *

  Cohen stepped down from his carriage and rubbed his tired eyes. As he mounted the steps to his rented lodgings a young messenger boy hailed him from the street. He paused, despite the cold blast of wind which threatened to do away with his hat as the boy hurried to catch up.

  “Lord Ashton, I have a message for you.”

  Cohen heaved an exasperated sigh and frowned. “Can it not wait until I have changed and shaved?”

  The boy scuffed the toe of his worn boot in the skiff of snow on the bottom step. “‘Tis urgent, my lord. I have been waiting all night for your return.”

  One look at the boy’s stiff blue lips convinced Cohen the lad most likely waited there all night. “Fine, come inside where it is warmer. I have traveled through the night from my country home and want nothing more than to go to bed,” he complained.

  Once inside he hung up his coat and called for the housekeeper. When she arrived he sent her to fetch him something to eat and motioned for the chilled boy to follow him to the library. A fire crackled in the hearth as the odd pair stood in front of the flames and rubbed their hands.

  He glanced at the boy. “Who sent you and what is your important message, lad?”

  “Sally, Lady Everton’s maid sent me, milord. She bade me wait and not come back until I saw you.”

  Cohen’s heart leaped in his throat. Was Lady Everton in trouble?

  The boy continued. “Sally says to tell you the babe is coming and her lady will be sent away after it is born.”

  “Damn!” The swear word slipped from his lips. When the boy looked frightened he gave him a coin and patted his arm. “Thank you, lad. On your way out stop at the kitchen and tell the housekeeper I said to find you something to eat.” The boy nodded and hurried out.

  Cohen paced the study floor. The law was clearly on the earl’s side if he chose to cast Lady Kassandra from his door. There was no way he could convince the man to relinquish the lady’s child he was sure, so what could be done?

  He caught sight of an envelope on his desk, strolled over, and picked it up. It was an invitation to the unveiling of the rest of the earl’s archaeological find from Egypt, tonight at seven o’clock at his London townhouse. He looked at his fob watch. It was nearly six o’clock already. If he hurried he could bath, change, and still be there on time. Maybe it was not yet too late to help Lady Kassandra.

  Chapter Eleven

  The clock downstairs finished chiming the three o’clock hour. Kassie rolled over and stared at the canopy above her. The glow from the firelight cast shifting shadows across the fabric, giving the illusion the material was alive and moving. She rolled back onto her side. Sleep eluded her as she worried her dilemma over and over in her mind. What am I to do? How am I to get my son? Where will I go? If I go home to my family will they send me back to the earl? She allowed the tears to flow as her helplessness reached its peak. I am going to lose my son and there is nothing I can do about it. It is all my fault. I am sinful and now God is punishing me.

  Burying her head in her pillow she cried, wails of grief breaking the silence of her prison. It did not matter if anyone heard her. No one cared. The comté had not come to help her as he promised, and tomorrow she would be cast out, never to see her son again. Even if she knotted her sheets together and risked the precarious climb down from the second floor, she could not rescue her son. The door was locked. It is hopeless. I want to die.

  At first, the flutter of the bed curtains did not register to her weary mind. Then the click of the door as it shut roused her. She willed her gasping breaths to slow so she could listen. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks. The soft rustle of material made her sit up. The drapes keeping the drafts from the bed shifted. “Sally?” Her whisper broke the quiet like a shout. Heart pounding, she froze, clutching the bedclothes to her breast. Someone is in the room.

  The curtains slid back an inch at a time. She searched the darkness for the cause of the movement. A dark figure stepped to the side of the bed and she drew back in alarm. Before she could cry out, her mouth was covered with a hand.

  “Hush.”

  She tried to pull the hand away and scramble from the bed, but before she could gain her freedom, the mattress dipped and she found herself pinned under the intruder’s weight.

  The familiar voice whispered again. “Hush.”

  Kassie stilled, trying to place him.

  “I mean you no harm. I am here to help you. I will take my hand off your mouth if you promise not to scream.”

  A strangely familiar scent tickled her nostrils when she drew a deep breath in through her nose. That cologne. I have smelled it before. When? Recognition dawned in her mind. It was him! She nodded slowly to be sure he understood and he released his hand. “You!” she hissed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The figure shifted. “Hush.”

  “Go away, thief! You have already caused me enough trouble!”

  “Where is the babe?”

  She glared at him, suspicion filling her. “He is not with me, why?”

  His breath of wonder hung between them. “He? I have a son.”

  “Why?” she repeated, louder this time.

  “Be quiet,” he reprimanded her. “I have come for my son.”

  He must have heard her sharp intake of breath as she prepared to scream because he clapped his hand back over her mouth. “For God’s sake, do not scream!” the words hissed between his teeth. “If you want to get out of here, pack some things quickly, and be ready to go when I get back.” When she nodded he lifted his hand from her mouth again.

  “Why should I trust you?”

  He brushed an errant curl from her face. “What other choice do you have?”

  She studied his shadowed face for a moment. He is right, what other choice do I have? The comté is not coming. I have to trust the thief, at least until I am away from the earl. Then I will figure out what to do.

  “Well?”

  The impatience in his tone had her scrambling from the bed.

  “Where is the baby?”

  “He is locked in the next room.”

  “Get a few things packed by the time I get back.” Without waiting for a reply he slipped back under the curtain.

  Kassie hurried to pack as much as she could into an empty pillowcase. Something, not a sound really but more of a feeling, made her look up. She gasped and jumped when she spied him standing there watching her.

  He crossed to the bed and laid a bundle on it. “Do you have a shawl?”

  She picked up a white shawl from the pile at her feet and handed it to him. He fashioned it into a sling which he tied across his chest. Taking the bundle he slid it into the sling. When it gurgled she realized he had found the baby.

  “Are you ready?”

  When she nodded he reached into a sack on the floor and took out a rope with a small grapple attached. He crossed to the window and opened it. After he secured the grapple to his satisfaction he motioned for her to climb over the sill.

  “I cannot climb down there!” she whispered with a terrified shake of her head.

  “Then you stay here.”

  The finality of his words propelled her to snatch up her sack and hurry to his side. Leaning forward she looked out the window. It was a long way to the gr
ound. At her hesitation, he took the pillowcase, tied it to his belt, and pulled her to him. A terrified squeal slipped unbidden from her lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he swung his legs over the windowsill. She could see his teeth gleaming as he grinned and eased their weight onto the rope.

  Her breath caught as he let the rope slide through his hands, wrapping it around his leg to slow their decent. When his chest vibrated against her cheek she realized he trying to contain his amusement at her distress. He grunted when they dropped all of a sudden toward the ground two stories below before he regained control. With a startled squeak she wrapped her legs around his hips.

  “Damn it! I cannot control our descent with your legs clamped around me,” he growled in her ear.

  “We are going to fall!” She clung tighter to him.

  He grunted. “If you do not quit rubbing your lovely body against mine in such a suggestive way we will fall.”

  Even though she was reluctant to loosen her grip Kassie closed her eyes and let her legs dangle, ignoring his amusement as they resumed their careful descent. His shirt grew warm and damp against her cheek, his arms shaking with the strain of his effort. Finally when she feared he could not hold their weight any longer, their feet touched the ground. He let go of the rope and disengaged her arms from around his neck, chuckling at her audible sigh of relief. A practiced flick of his wrist disengaged the grapple, and he returned it to his satchel.

  He leaned against the wall for a minute, his harsh breathing the only noise. “This way,” he whispered, catching his breath. Grasping her hand he pulled her along behind him, keeping to the wall to stay clear of the worst of the snow drifts. By the time they reached the path leading from the servant’s entrance to the back gates her feet were sodden and cold in her delicate slippers.

  After easing the gate open, he paused for a moment to listen. Somewhere down the street a dog barked. He drew her along behind him, slipping through the gate and making his way to a horse tied in the alley. The animal turned its head and nickered as they approached.

  Kassie hung back. “I do not know how to ride,” she whispered, knowing the tremble in her voice betrayed her fear.

  “You ride or you walk. We have a long way to go tonight,” he whispered back.

  Taking a deep breath she reached for the saddle and placed her foot in his cupped hand. He helped her onto the horse and handed the baby up and secured the sling around her. After tying their bundles to the saddle he mounted behind. It began to snow in earnest as he reached forward, took up the reins in one hand and turned the horse onto the road. With a soft cluck he nudged the animal into a slow trot.

  The bouncing caused the baby to fuss. Within minutes he began to wail in earnest, his cries echoing through the empty streets.

  “Hush him up,” the man hissed in her ear.

  Kassie shifted the baby who continued to cry.

  “For God’s sake, feed him!”

  “I cannot.”

  “Here.” He reached around with his free hand and loosened her cloak. Then he slipped his cold hand underneath and unfastened the top four buttons on the back of her gown.

  Kassie tried to wiggle away. “Stop, what are you doing?”

  He pushed the gown off her shoulders to free her breasts. “I am trying to help you. Now be quiet.” Pulling her against him, he tugged down the top of her chemise and shifted the child to her breast. She tensed as he lifted her tender, engorged breast to the baby. Her son smacked his lips and latched onto her nipple. Kassie clenched her teeth as the action caused her breast to throb. The man kept his hand there to support her as the horse jogged down the darkened streets. The baby alternated between making sucking sounds and fretting. When she could no longer bear the pain, she began to cry. Sobs racked her body, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Bloody hell, I am only trying to help you feed the boy!”

  She hiccoughed. “It is not that.”

  “Then why is it you cry?” he asked, irritation straining his words.

  “It hurts, and I—I do not think he is getting anything,” she whimpered.

  He moved his hand, and she steeled herself against his seeking fingers as he cupped her hot, tender breast.

  “Have you fed the child before now?”

  “No.”

  “You are too full for him to suckle properly. Hold on.” He nudged the horse into an easy canter, his hand still cupping her. She peered through the dark, trying to keep her mind off the proximity of his fingers. They turned down another street and stopped in front of a livery stable.

  “Wait here.” He leaped from the horse and hurried inside.

  Kassie shifted in the saddle and put the baby to her shoulder to try and comfort him. A few moments later the man came back out. He helped her down from the horse and took the howling baby from her so she could hold her cloak closed. He slung the makeshift sling across his chest and bounced the child to comfort him as he untied their bags from the saddle.

  A sleepy young boy hurried from the stable and took the horse inside as a closed coach pulled by four horses was driven from around back of the building. It stopped beside them, the driver jumping down to take the bags and open the door. When Kassandra was seated, the man climbed aboard, and settled opposite her. The coach lurched into motion. He leaned forward in his seat and pulled a water bottle from his coat. “Open your cloak and slide your dress off your shoulders.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Just do it before the child wakes up the entire city!”

  While she adjusted her dress he leaned over and lit the oil lamp, turned it down low, and then hung it in the bracket on the wall. He turned toward her, the glow chasing the shadows from his face.

  She gasped, staring at him dazed and confused. “Lord Ashton? I thought you were the thief.”

  He nodded and handed her the baby. “I am. Suckle him while I hold this warm water bottle against your breast. It will help the milk flow.”

  “I—I can do it myself,” Kassie stammered, fumbling with the crying baby.

  He switched seats to sit beside her. “No, you cannot.”

  He placed the water bottle against her breast as the baby smacked his lips and fussed at her nipple. With a gentle touch he stroked her hard breast until milk began to flow and the baby latched on to suckle in earnest.

  Kassie tried to relax as the tightness lessened but the comté’s fingers on her flesh made it difficult. She trembled despite her efforts to keep from moving. When the baby sighed in contentment he pulled her cloak around her to keep out the chill and slid back into the other seat.

  He added a couple of pieces of coal to the brazier on the floor and placed the water bottle beside it to keep warm. Straightening with a pleased look, he leaned back in his seat to watch her. “Is that better?”

  Despite her embarrassment she nodded.

  “You had better switch him to the other breast before he falls asleep or it will be worse than the first by next feeding.”

  Kassie tickled the baby’s chin until he unlatched and switched him to the other breast which was leaking all over her chemise. She fixated on the baby, afraid to look up and unsure of what to say. She should thank him for coming to her rescue. On the other hand, it was his fault she was in this mess in the first place, was it not? He referred to the baby as his. If it were true, then he was the thief who stole the earl’s artifact and the one who … who what? He had not forced himself on her exactly and she did enjoy the encounter. Oh good Lord! She was so tired and confused. She peeked at the comté from underneath her lashes.

  His muscular legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms folded across his chest, chin touching the black collar of his coat. His eyes were closed and she realized he was snoring.

  She settled in the seat and closed her eyes, leaving the baby asleep at her breast. She had no idea of their destination and, in truth, it did not matter so long as she was with her son. Tomorrow she would figure things out.


  Chapter Twelve

  Kassie became aware of the bouncing rattle of the coach and opened her eyes. The lamp on the floor was extinguished and daylight brightened the interior. Sometime during the night she laid down across the bench and someone covered her with her cloak. The comté sat opposite her, rocking the baby in his arms. She could not help but smile as he gazed down at the little bundle with an adoring expression.

  He glanced up, caught her watching him and frowned. “You do not happen to have a change of swaddling do you? He is wet and hungry again.”

  She sat up and rummaged around in the pillow case until she found the swaddling clothes and one of the outfits she and Sally sewed for the baby.

  The comté handed him to her. The baby began to whimper as soon as she took him in her arms. By the time she had him changed and wrapped him in a dry blanket he was wailing, his tiny fists balled tight, his face red. Before she could get the child to her breast the front of her dress was damp with milk.

  The comté smiled at her frustration. “We can stop at the next town to eat, and I shall see if I can find a wet nurse.”

  Kassie shook her head. “I am fine.”

  He gave her a look which clearly said he thought she was anything but fine. “You cannot go around leaking milk all over the front of your gowns.”

  She blushed, pulling the cloak around her to allow her some modesty. They sat in silence for a few moments. “Where are we going, my lord?”

  “We are going to Bristol, my ship is docked there. In a few weeks the ice will be thawed enough for us to sail on to Bordeaux, France, and then travel cross country to Marseilles. My home is there.” He paused and then added, “My name is Cohen, by the way.”

  Kassie switched the baby to her other breast.

  “Have you a name for our son?”

  She shook her head. “He was born just prior to midnight the night before last. The earl took him away before I had a chance to name him.”