Deliciously Wicked (12 page)

“Precisely!” Willow said.

“You think that because I have suitors all about, it is scaring him off?” Charlotte asked.

Willow nodded.

“Perhaps it's mere coincidence, but on four separate occasions, he has waited until you're in a different room, or have left for the evening before sweeping in to take his bounty. It makes perfect sense to me,” Meg said. “Excellent observation, Willow.”

“I agree,” Amelia said.

“Do you suppose that means he knows me? The Jack of Hearts?” Charlotte could not hide her excitement.

“Could be,” Willow said. “Or it could be mere coincidence.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Pesky men. Perhaps I can try to rid myself of them the next time I attend a function. Put myself in a position that might be slightly more tempting for the rogue.”

“Honestly, Charlotte, it's really not in your best interest to continue to put yourself in harm's way,” Amelia said. “We can discover his identity other ways.”

“Perhaps we should give it a go again,” Charlotte suggested. “We only once attempted to lure him together. I simply don't feel we gave that plan a real chance.”

Every eye turned to Willow since it had been her original idea to try such a tactic. They had attended the theater and worn their best jewels in an effort to entice the thief, but Jack had not shown up.

Willow nodded. “Perhaps it is time again. But I do think we should all go. Wherever we decide.” She looked around the room.

They each nodded. They might even be able to discover more about the stolen boxes, see if anyone had heard anything. And catch a glimpse of the Jack of Hearts. Meg's pulse beat rapidly. Adventures at every turn.

“Let us be on the lookout, then, for the perfect social engagement to attend,” Amelia suggested.

Meg smiled. “It is time this gentleman thief met some ladies to contend with.”

They all laughed.

“Aside from Charlotte's suitors distracting him, what else do we know of him?” Meg asked.

“He dresses well,” Amelia said. “As a dandy would.”

“He's young, at least that's what Lady Danbridge told me,” Charlotte said. Both Willow and Amelia quickly
wrote the information down. “She said he smelled of elegant tobacco and hair cream and that despite the mask covering the majority of his face, his lips were uncovered and he had the most sinful mouth she'd ever seen.”

“Charlotte!” Willow said.

She opened her eyes dreamily and smiled. “What? I'm only repeating a story from one of the wealthiest members of Society.” She shrugged her innocence.

Meg knew, all too well, who owned the most sinful mouth, so she could certainly argue with Lady Danbridge.

“Tobacco. Every man in London smells of tobacco,” Willow said.

Gareth didn't, although Meg would certainly not tell them that. He smelled of fresh cocoa with a hint of musky soap. Rich, clean, and fragrant. Meg stopped herself right before she sighed. She really needed to get a hold on herself before she took this too far. It was one thing to enjoy pleasures of the flesh with Gareth, but in doing so he'd robbed her of her peace of mind and he'd taken over her senses. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, and if she wasn't careful she'd soon find herself as heartbroken as her poor papa.

And then she'd be lost.

“But hair cream is not used by every man,” Amelia noted. She smiled wistfully. “This would be a brilliant case for Sherlock, don't you agree?”

“Have you read the latest?” Meg asked. She had received her copy of
The Strand
yesterday, but had been too busy to even open to the first page.

“Not yet. I'm far too busy with my own detective
story. Lady Shadows is in thick trouble right as we speak,” Amelia said. “Now if I could only complete this volume, it will be ready to go in the post.”

“You're going to be a glittering success,” Charlotte said.

“Absolutely. I cannot wait to read it myself,” Meg agreed. Her dear friend had finally gained enough courage to begin her own detective stories after being so enraptured with Mr. Conan Doyle's for so long. It would be such a joy when her detective would be printed alongside the famous Sherlock Holmes.

Amelia smiled. “Such wonderful friends you all are. But this is not about me. We are making good progress with the Jack of Hearts this morning.”

Indeed they were making good progress. More than they had in months. This new article was very helpful, and while Charlotte had not yet seen the masked robber, the more she spoke of her evenings out, the more she remembered others' comments of him. Before long they had twice as many notes about him and a new plan.

“Now then, we have that settled for the moment,” Amelia said. “Let us discuss the more pressing case. Willow and I went and spoke with three separate pawnbrokers, and while all agreed they would be interested in such an item, none had seen them or heard of their sale. Sorry we couldn't find some information you could use,” Amelia said.

Meg sat up in her seat. She'd stalled long enough, it was time she shared with them the events from last night. With the exception of some very specific, very passionate details. “We, that is, Mr. Mandeville and I
discovered some rather helpful and intriguing information last night when we snuck into Mr. Munden's residence.”

“What did you find?” Charlotte asked.

“Unfortunately, nothing about the stolen boxes. But we did find an anonymous letter instructing Munden to accuse Gareth of the theft. Well, it was more like a riddle and we assume it originally came with money.”

“So someone else is trying to pin the crime on Gareth,” Amelia said.

“Paying Munden to do it,” Meg clarified.

“Interesting development. So the money that came in the note, do you think it would have been enough to purchase the horse?” Willow asked.

“I doubt it, as it mentioned giving him an additional payment if he succeeded in blaming Gareth. But we also discovered several sheets cut from my father's ledger book. Apparently Munden has been taking some funds for himself, and he steals the pages from the book so no one is the wiser.”

“That's terrible,” Amelia said.

Charlotte shook her head in disgust. “That would certainly afford a racing horse.”

“I haven't added up the entire amount, but I would imagine you're right. Gareth didn't want me to have Munden removed from his position at work until we discover the identity of the person who sent the anonymous note. He said since Munden is the only known contact, we should keep him close by.” She still didn't like that. She wanted to have the despicable man dismissed immediately. But no doubt Gareth knew what he was talking about in this situation. And he had a right to know who was trying to frame him.

“So what next?” Amelia asked.

“I'm not certain,” Meg said. “We took the ledger sheets to use as proof for later. Not knowing who sent him the note might stall our current investigation though.”

“That's a really good idea,” Amelia said. “Your poor father though. To not only be injured, but to have a man like Munden working for him. He will be very proud of you, Meg, when this is all finished and you've rid his factory of this ne'er-do-well.”

Warmth spread through Meg. “Thank you.” She certainly hoped Amelia was right.

“Somehow you need to coerce Munden into telling you what he knows. He must know or have an idea of who sent the note,” Willow said.

“Yes, but how to persuade him to share the information?” Amelia asked.

“Seduce him,” Charlotte said softly, as if she were speaking to herself.

“What?” the other three said in unison.

Charlotte eyed them a moment, then she nodded. “Yes, it could work. It's simple; you need only seduce him.” Charlotte waved her hand casually. “Men like Munden are the easiest ones of all. More than likely all you'll need to do is flutter your eyes at him a few times and he'll tell you everything you want to know.”

“That's too risky,” Willow said.

“She's right. It could be very dangerous,” Amelia said. “We don't know what this man is capable of. Trust me, you do not want to dally with men akin to Munden. Even if you are only pretending to dally.”

“It wouldn't have to be risky. Mr. Mandeville could protect her,” Charlotte said.

“Munden will not talk to me if Gareth is anywhere near me,” Meg said.

“He doesn't have to know Gareth is near. Isn't there somewhere you can speak with Munden that would allow Gareth to hide himself?” Charlotte asked.

Meg thought for a moment, then nodded. “There is an armoire in my father's office. It would be large enough for Gareth to hide in. I don't think Gareth will agree, though. And I most definitely do not know how to seduce a man.” They might not believe that if they had seen her and Gareth the night before in the carriage.

“You don't actually have to seduce him.” Charlotte came to sit next to her. “But you know how to flirt. Make him comfortable. Make him want to divulge information to you. You can do that. You've always been at ease around men.”

“It still sounds risky to me,” Willow said.

“Yes, but don't you agree that with Gareth there, she will be well protected?” Charlotte asked.

Willow pursed her lips. “How are we to know that this Gareth fellow can be trusted to protect Meg? Perhaps he will want to take advantage of her himself.”

Meg felt the blush creep up into her cheeks, so she grabbed her teacup and held it close to her lips.

“He has had ample opportunity to do so, were he going to,” Charlotte said. “Isn't that right, Meg?” Charlotte crossed her right leg over her left, and in doing so kicked the back of Meg's leg.

Meg jolted. “Certainly. He would never harm me,” she said.

“It's settled then. Now, on to the next problem. The seduction. It is simple, I assure you,” Charlotte said.
“It is nothing more than a game. Men enjoy being toyed with—you pull the right strings and they'll do anything you ask of them, just as a marionette would.”

“Honestly, Charlotte, you make them sound completely without thought,” Willow said.

“They are not without thought, but she's right,” Amelia said.

Willow fidgeted with her spectacles. “That may be, but you shouldn't toy with your virtue in such a flagrant fashion.”

“Willow, this can work,” Charlotte said. “Do not fret. No one will know about this. It will be a secret between Meg and Mr. Munden. If Munden tells, no one will take his word over Meg's; besides, she has the excuse of working in her father's stead. And Gareth, of course. But he won't tell anyone.”

“He's quite good with secrets,” Meg said.

“You'll want to make eye contact,” Charlotte continued. “But look away as well. Smile at him, but not a full smile, just a hint of a grin.” Charlotte mimicked her own instructions and Meg realized she'd seen her friend smile in such a fashion on hundreds of occasions. It always worked perfectly. But what worked for the exquisite beauty might not work for all women. “It will make him want more and keep him focused on your mouth,” Charlotte said.

“I can't believe I'm hearing this,” Willow said.

“You should take notes.” Charlotte pointed playfully at Willow. “You never know when skills such as these will come in handy. There is a reason the Lord gave women wiles in the manner in which He did.”

“Certainly not for this,” Willow argued.

“Yes, precisely for this,” Charlotte said. “Now then,
let us continue. If you are sitting near him, you could touch him on the sleeve. Nowhere else, you don't want to be too forward. Drop your voice a little lower, almost a whisper. Oh, and you can lick your lips if you see him watching them.”

Meg tried to mentally record every suggestion.

“Charlotte, how do you know all of this?” Amelia asked.

She shrugged. “Tips I gathered from here and there. When you don't have money, it's important that you have other ways to lure men in to secure a good husband.” She rolled her eyes, then laughed. “My mother.”

That explained plenty.

G
areth stood and threw his arms up. “Absolutely not. It's out of the question.”

Meg acknowledged that this might do it. Might convince him she was totally mad, which, of course, she wasn't. She was doing all this for him. But it would definitely take some convincing to persuade him to go along with her plan. “You haven't given me an opportunity to explain,” Meg said.

“First the breaking and entering into Munden's house and now this?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I didn't know any better, Meg, I'd think you were training to be a spy.” He exhaled loudly. “Where do you come up with these ideas?”

She wasn't certain if it was a legitimate question or not, but she decided not to answer. “There is no risk involved; I will be completely safe,” Meg said.

“How can you be certain? We don't know what Munden is capable of.”

“You'll protect me,” she said. She believed that too. Regardless of whether his motive was keeping her safe or proving his own innocence, she knew he wouldn't allow any harm to come to her.

His jaw clenched. “I appreciate your faith in me, but precisely how am I going to do that when you're in this office alone with him?”

“You'll be in here with me.”

“He won't reveal anything if I'm in the room with you, you know that.”

“Yes, and if you'd keep your mouth shut for ten seconds, I could finish explaining the plan,” she said, more loudly than she'd intended.

His eyebrows rose, and a slight smile settled on his lips. He sat back in the red chair and crossed his feet at the ankles. “By all means.” He swept his arms open. “Miss Piddington, enlighten me.”

His arrogance was surely justification enough for her to throttle him, but she needed him to go along with this plan, else it wouldn't work. “Thank you,” she said, unable to resist giving him a smirk. “Now then, I'll invite Munden up here for a chat and try to sweet-talk some information out of him. All the while you'll be hiding there.” She pointed to the large mahogany armoire behind her. “That way you can hear him. If he attacks me or something and I must call for help, you need only pop through the doors and be the hero.”

“I am not qualified to be a hero,” he said dryly.

She nearly argued with him, but she restrained herself. It was bad enough that she thought more of him than she ought, she didn't need to alert him to the
matter. “More than likely, there will be no need for you to be. Munden might be a thief, but he's never been inappropriate with me,” Meg said.

“But you intend to play the coquette with him?”

“Yes. To get information from him.”

“And you don't think that flirting with that sort of man might cause you trouble? Meg, he's used to getting what he wants.”

“Well he certainly will not get anything from me.”

“I wasn't implying that he would. But don't be surprised if he tries to take something you're not willing to give. Regardless of whether you're offering. Men sometimes mistake flirtation for an invitation to sin.”

She leveled her gaze on him. Had he done that with her? Was that why he'd taken certain liberties with her? Because he thought she'd offered them? She hadn't done that, but neither had she warded off his advances.

“I see,” she said.

“I didn't mean all men.” He rubbed his temples. “I only want you to be careful. You are too green for your own good.”

“I'll be careful,” she promised.

“Have you considered how I can get in here without him seeing me climb the stairs? Those windows”—he pointed to his right—“don't hide much, unless you wish me to crawl in.”

She had not considered that. The windows only showed the upper half of the room, but still, Munden would see Gareth come into the office and not leave. “We'll have to distract him. What about your friend?”

“Jamie?”

“Yes.”

Gareth shrugged. “I suppose that might work.”

“Will you do this with me?”

He thought for a moment before he spoke. “I still don't think it's a good idea. It feels too risky. And I'm not certain it will make a difference. Why do you think Munden will tell you anything?”

“You might think otherwise, but other men find me engaging. I can generally persuade them to speak with me with little difficulty.” There was no reason to tell him that Charlotte had given her seduction tips.

He shrugged in resignation, but his expression was tight as he spoke and his words terse. “We can try it, but I don't want you doing anything foolish. Stay behind that desk and he can sit over here as I'm doing.” His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath. “There is no reason why you would need to touch him.”

Why did it matter one way or another if she touched him? She wasn't foolish; she wasn't going to allow things to progress further than an innocent pat on the arm. Mr. Munden was a hulking man she had no desire to speak with, let alone touch. But her investigation mandated she do this. So there was no reason—and then it hit her. Gareth was jealous. Meg felt the thrill of the situation course through her. He didn't want her to touch Munden because he was jealous. Jealous. On her behalf. She smiled.

“I'll be careful. And you can rescue me should the need arise.”

“I can hardly wait,” he said wryly. “When are we doing this?”

“At the end of closing tomorrow. I believe I'll wear something special.”

He rolled his eyes. “It's a wonder your father is not
in Bedlam from having to care for you with all your antics for so long. How you have managed to keep yourself out of serious trouble is remarkable.”

“You find me entertaining,” she said, hoping he would confirm it to be true.

“I find you something. Not quite certain I would classify it as entertaining.”

“You are no fun at all,” she said.

“I disagree. You think I'm quite fun.” For the first time in the conversation, heat edged the exasperation out of his expression. “I believe I've proved that on more than one occasion.”

He had her there. And she had the blush to prove it. A large part of her wished he'd come across the desk and prove it again.

 

It felt as if a battle were raging inside Meg's chest, her heart was beating so rapidly. Gracious, she couldn't remember the last time she was this nervous. Far more so than the night they'd sneaked into Munden's house. Of course, she'd insisted that her nerves were inconsequential when Gareth had asked. She refused to allow a jumbled stomach to prevent her from completing this task. She was a sleuth; she would persevere, even in dangerous situations.

Charlotte had given her plenty of tips on how to interest a man. Meg had even worn a party dress under the pretense that she was leaving here to attend a function that required such attire. The pretty lavender dress complemented her complexion perfectly, and it didn't hurt that the cut accented her female features. No doubt the gown would have the desired effect. Gareth had already commented on it. And his eyes had said more than his
words. He'd looked ready to devour her when she'd removed her cloak and he'd caught sight of her cleavage.

She turned to look at the armoire doors, and wondered if Gareth could see her. She gave him a flashy smile. A knock sounded on the office door, and she started.

She moved to stand behind her father's desk. “Please enter,” she said.

Munden opened the door and stepped inside the office.

“Close the door,” she said, trying to make her voice sound husky.

She eyed the foreman from head to toe, and words caught in her throat. He was portly and grimy and not attractive by any stretch of her imagination. Instead he reminded her of a great sweating bull.

She offered him a smile in spite of her disgust.

“What did you want to see me about?” he asked.

“I have a favorite hobby, a secret hobby, and it seems as though we might share it.” She lowered her eyes, then slowly let them slide up to his face. “I heard recently that you have purchased a racing horse.” She said the last two words in a whisper.

His eyes widened ever so slightly. He shifted his stance and poked his hands in his pockets. “Where did you hear that?”

“A friend.” She waved a hand in front of her. “It matters not. The point is, I love racing horses.” She walked around to the desk and propped one hip against it. “I find racing exhilarating to watch. And I've always wondered what it must feel like to ride atop such a beast, with my hair blowing in the wind and…” She released
a dramatic breath. “Now see, I've gone on and on. Do forgive me.”

He eyed her warily, but she didn't allow her smile to waver. Eventually his shoulders sagged a little and he leaned forward. “I didn't realize, Miss Piddington, that you felt so strongly about this.”

She leaned forward and lightly touched his arm. “Oh, but I do.” She leaned back. “I realize it's not all that ladylike of me to want to ride such a fast horse. But I can't help myself. Will you keep my secret?” She released a low giggle. This was easier than she thought it would be. No wonder Charlotte had her pick of suitors.

He smiled, which looked more like a leer, and it sent shivers up her arms. And not the welcome sort of shivers.

“Of course I can,” he said. “I'm good with secrets.”

She knew that was true. “Might I ask you a question, Mr. Munden?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course.”

“I certainly don't mean this in a nasty sort of way, but I was wondering how you were able to afford such a beast? I realize my father pays you quite well for your position, but perhaps not as much as would be required for such a purchase. Did you, by chance, find a seller who gives bargain prices? Because I would love to make a similar purchase, but with my allowance it would be difficult.”

He seemed taken aback at first, but she kept her smile firmly in place. He cleared his throat. “I made some investments that turned out well for me,” he said.

Investments! Stealing money was not an investment.
“Oh.” She tried to look disappointed. “Were I to discover I could afford such a creature, could you put me in contact with your seller?”

He looked down at his feet. “I don't remember his name,” he said.

Meg reached to touch his arm. “Are you quite certain of that?”

“Yes.” He stood and moved away from the chair. “I should be going.”

“Oh, Mr. Munden.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Don't go. Not yet.”

He looked at her bare hand resting on his coat sleeve and nodded.

“I hear that Lady Glenworthy was pleased with her chocolate boxes,” she said. If she could trick him into talking about Gareth, he might give her the information she sought. “Perhaps Mr. Mandeville is good at something.”

He snorted. “Bloody Irishman.”

“You do understand,” she cooed, “that the only reason I forced you to retain his position was because my father wanted to keep him on in case he would lead us to what he did with the boxes.” She looked around and leaned in. “My father believes that he sold them to a competitor.” She let her eyes go wide. “Can you believe that?”

Munden took a cigar out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “Course I understand, Miss Piddington. Your father is smart. He knows what he's doing.”

“He wouldn't have allowed Mr. Mandeville to continue to work here had we found any real evidence. Tell me, what clued you in on him as the thief?” she asked.

He shifted on his feet.

“It's quite all right if you tell me, Mr. Munden. I won't tell. I promise.” She crossed her heart with her right hand.

He leaned closer to her. The smell of tobacco and rotting teeth sprang tears to her eyes and she fought to stay put and hide her revulsion.

“Someone sent me an anonymous note letting me know he was the one that took the boxes,” he said.

“Anonymous? Are you certain you don't know who it was from?”

“No. Maybe it's from the blokes he sold it to. You know the ones from the competitors,” he said.

“Perhaps you're right. Very clever you are. I'll make certain to put in a good word with my father about you.”

He smiled and turned to go.

“Oh, and Mr. Munden, I'd very much like to see your horse someday. Perhaps you would notify me when you will be racing him,” she said.

“I will.” He nodded, then left the room.

Gareth waited until the office door closed before he stepped out of the armoire and shut the double doors behind him.

“Well, that wasn't very helpful.” He walked over near her and leaned against the desk.

“No, it wasn't.” She glanced at the window. “Will he be able to see you?”

“No, you can't see this far into the office from downstairs.”

She nodded in relief. “I was certain he would give me a little more. Sorry, I—”

Then a knock at the door sounded. Meg felt her eyes grow wide. “You have to hide,” she whispered.

He knelt right where he was and scooted under the desk a bit. “Stand in front of me and he'll never know.”

She nodded. “Yes?” she said.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Piddington, but I did remember one thing,” Munden said.

“Yes?” She felt a hand clasp her ankle.
Oh my
.

“I remembered that it was a gent out in Yorkshire. Bunkle or something such name,” he said. “The one who sold me the horse.”

The hand slid up the back of her stocking-clad calf to the back of her knee. She clutched the desk to keep from falling into the seat behind her. “Oh, of course. Very good,” she said, her voice breathy. “Thank you, Mr. Munden.”

Tiny circles Gareth made with his fingertips sent shivers spiraling through her body.

“Are you all right, miss?” Munden asked. “You seem a little agitated and out of breath.”