sipping his gin gimlet by the wall looked far too alert for the occasion. His dark hair was slicked back, his shirt perfectly pressed. Although he was trying to look casual, leaning on a mahogany cabinet, his jaw was rigid.
Laughing, I spun away from the dance, in his direction. He was so intent on the crowd around me, he hardly looked at me. And he was pulling one of my tricks—dress in the most boring, dark clothes possible so no one would notice you.
But my keen thief’s eye caught a glint of something important: a gleaming silver cufflink. I’d seen that before.
Smiling like an idiot drunk, I let one shoulder of my dress fall down. Maybe I wasn’t as stunning as all the glittering women around me, but I had boobs. And boobs could get nearly anyone’s attention.
So I let my cleavage show, and I pressed against him, smiling. “Why hello, darling. You all right?”
He smiled down at me, but the look in his eyes was disdainful. “Are you enjoying yourself?” His voice was crisp and aristocratic.
I had no doubt he’d gone to the finest boarding schools Albia had to offer. And something in his tone definitely suggested that I shouldn’t be enjoying myself at all.
Immediately, he reminded me of my ex, Cassius—the posh wanker who never wanted me to meet his family. I didn’t like the look of this man, the faint judgment in his eyes. But I forced myself to grin at him like I was wholly besotted with him.
I gripped him by the wrists, giggling like a halfwit, wiggling his arms. “Don’t you want to dance, you grumpy Gus? It is a party, and everyone’s doing the Salton. Don’t you know how? I can show you.”
His jaw clenched tighter, eyes darting around the room. He was definitely on edge, and he wanted to get the hell away from me. He jerked his wrists out of my grip, but by the time he pulled away, I had what I wanted: one of his cufflinks. As soon as he’d slipped away through the crowd, I peered down at it.
Just like the man who’d been executed, the cufflink featured a tiny gold lightning bolt. Now that was information the count would value.
I shoved the cufflink into my bra, then turned to see if I could catch sight of the man again. I wove through the crowd until I spotted him—dark hair slicked back, the crisp black shirt.
I followed him a few paces behind, feigning drunkenness. He was walking to another part of the hall. When I peered around his shoulder, I saw a banquet table.
He was heading for a table set with strawberry tarts and a fountain of champagne. When he reached it, I stayed out of his sights, slipping behind the table while he leaned against it, sipping a glass of champagne.
I plucked a tart from a tray—all part of blending in, of course. I bit into layers of flaky pastry with custard and berries. Bloody hell, was this how rich people ate all the time?
But despite my delight with the pastry, I was staying sharp—watching as another man sidled up next to him. A blond in dark clothes.
They weren’t speaking. The dark-haired one slipped a folded piece of paper behind his back, and the blond snatched it, shoving it into his pocket. Casually, he plucked a glass of champagne from the table. With a sip of his drink, he sauntered off.
I dropped my pastry on the table—which I regretted deeply— and slipped through the dancers after the blond.
I’d been pickpocketing since I was a kid, and it would give me no trouble at all to pinch something in a crowd. It was all about the subtle arts of distraction and sleight of hand.
I picked up my speed, walking past him so I could head him off. When I’d passed in front of him, I turned and stumbled into him.
“Oh dear!” I let that strap slide down from my dress again, and one of my hands was in and out of his pockets before he noticed.
He grabbed me by the shoulders, his lip curling a little bit. “Do be careful,” he cautioned in a plummy accent. He smoothed back his hair, then pushed past me.
I shoved the little bit of paper into my cleavage. I’d procured something valuable, which meant I’d done the first part of my task.
That left the second, more terrifying task—affection for the Angel of Death. This was altogether different than flirting with the man in