not a question. If she were careful she wouldn’t have to tell him any more than necessary.
“Lady Beatrice and the Heathecoutes have been very good to me. I would hate for them to know what you have figured out.”
“I could make it known who you are and you would lose your employment.”
“I would lose much more than that,” she whispered earnestly, loathe to think that scandal would drive her from London like her mother. “I’m sure Lady Beatrice would ask me to leave.” She would no longer be of use to her aunt.
Suddenly an idea struck Millicent. She was very still for a moment but turned and looked into his eyes. “I hope I can persuade you not to do anything rash, sir. I think I know of a way I can be of help to you.”
His eyebrows rose in question. “You help me? How? You torment me with your writings.”
Millicent cringed. He did make what she was doing sound horrible, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from telling him her idea. “I can help you find the Mad Ton Thief.”
He smiled, then chuckled. “You surprise me and the devil take me if I don’t enjoy it, Millicent. I wish I didn’t, but I do. How could you help me find the thief?”
“For one, I hear things you don’t hear. You are an earl. People watch what they say around you, but with me they are less careful. I am more apt to hear news concerning the Mad Ton Thief than you.”
“I am in daily touch with Doulton and others. I would think that would allow me to hear the news before you unless you have an informant on Bow Street.”
“No, of course not. But neither you nor your Runners can hear what is said in the ladies’ retiring rooms. For instance, I just overheard that there is a certain earl who is looking to make a wealthy match because he has misused his fortune and it has run out.”
“Really. Who?”
She gave him a knowing smile. “I see there is some gossip I’m privy to that you want to hear.”
He frowned again. “You do like to test me.”
She smiled. “I feel the same way about you.”
“How can a poor blade who’s run through his money help me find the thief?”
“Perhaps he is the one stealing the valuables in order to get the money he needs to keep him sound until he can make a desirous match.”
“Hmm. That’s possible, I suppose.”
“It has to be a member of the ton who is pilfering the homes. Everyone agrees to that, except for those who believe the thief is a ghost.”
“And that number seems to be growing.”
“No one has reported seeing a stranger at any of the parties.” She looked at him a little ruefully. “And I believe we’ve both already agreed that it is not a ghost walking out of the homes with the family treasures.”
“We are definite on that point. I suppose you could be of some use to me.”
“Lord Dunraven, you do make me sound like a piece of old baggage.”
“Old? No. Baggage? Never. Useful? Maybe. All right, Miss Blair, partners we shall be for a time. I won’t divulge your secret, and you will report any information you hear that might help me find the thief.”
Her chest heaved in relief. Thank goodness, she had kept him from demanding the name of Lord Truefitt. It was too close a call. “You have my word.”
“Now, who is this titled gentleman lackwit who’s lost his fortune?”
“You’ll have to read Lord Truefitt’s column tomorrow to find out the answer to that.”
“Is that how I will get information from you? Reading the tittle-tattle?”
“Not always, but it seems prudent to start this way. And, now I know why you didn’t bring me tarts.”
“What are you talking about? Are you changing the subject again?”
“Yes. I’ve been told that you take apricot tarts to every young lady you call on and that your chef makes the best in all of London.”
The wrinkle returned to his brow. “Am I that predictable?”
“Obviously not as far as I’m concerned.” She held her hands out palms up and smiled sweetly at him. “I have no tarts.”
“With you, nothing is predictable either. I was so worked up when I finally figured out what you were doing that having my chef prepare tarts was the last thing on my mind. Even now, knowing that you do something I despise, I want to take you in my arms and kiss you.”
“Angels above, sir. You