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muttered. “I found you in the navy lists.” She’d spent half the afternoon scanning the huge volume for his name.
    He looked surprised. “I’m flattered. I must have impressed you very much if our encounter sent you straightaway to learn all you could about me.”
    She ignored his sarcasm. “Five years ago, you captained a third-rater—the Titan . No mention of you appears after that, although rumor has it that you spent the time with smugglersand pirates. Not exactly the sort of thing to endear one to the police.”
    “You shouldn’t listen to rumors. They’re apt to be false.”
    “So you deny it?”
    “I don’t have to. The police won’t take gossip as proof.”
    His smug self-assurance only drove home the futility of this debate. Threats wouldn’t work with a hardened villain like him, especially if he had a police officer or two in his pocket.
    But there was one incentive Captain Pryce and his kind always responded to.
    “I’d hoped to avoid this, but you give me no choice.” She drew herself up straight, trying to project a businesslike demeanor. “What if I make it worth your while for you to leave Spitalfields?”
    “That sounds very interesting.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fire leaping into his gaze as he lounged back against the counter with a sensual smile. “I can think of one way you could make it ‘worth my while.’”
    Oh, bother, she shouldn’t have put it like that. She hastened to correct his impression. “I’ll give you two hundred pounds if you’ll close up here and reopen your shop elsewhere, preferably outside London, where you can’t corrupt my charges.”
    At last she’d managed to wipe the mocking expression off his face. “What?”
    “Consider it a fee for moving expenses if you wish. Two hundred pounds. But only if you leave by tomorrow.”
    “Have you lost your mind?”
    “It’s possible. But thanks to a generous uncle, I can now afford to indulge my mad whims, and this is my latest.”
    “To pay me off.”
    “Precisely.”
    He searched her face as if to gauge her sincerity. Then heshook his head. “I like London. I like Spitalfields. I have no intention of leaving.”
    Somehow that didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t expected him to come cheap. “Three hundred pounds then.”
    “Ah, so that’s why you stationed your footman outside. You wouldn’t want him to hear you offering money to a scoundrel. Tell me, do you pay off everybody capable of corrupting your charges? If so, you must be very rich.”
    “Quite the bargainer, are you? Fine. Five hundred pounds. But that’s the most you’ll get out of me.”
    “ Sacrebleu , I don’t want—” He broke off, dragging his fingers through his hair with a look of frustration. “See here, I can make that sum in a matter of days. Your paltry offer is beneath my consideration.”
    “Aha! So you admit that you’re receiving stolen goods.”
    “I admit nothing.” He shoved away from the counter, his expression stormy. “Is this the purpose of your offer? To trap me into confessing to a crime?”
    “No, truly it isn’t,” she said hastily. “It’s an honest offer.”
    “I’m still not interested.” His gaze flicked past her to the front of the store. “You’d better leave before your watchdog grows impatient. He’s presently flirting with a milk-woman and has probably forgotten you’re even in here. Good day, Lady Clara.”
    He turned on his heel and strode into the back room.
    She hesitated. Though a quick glance at Samuel showed he was indeed preoccupied, she refused to simply give up. Throwing caution to the winds, she headed into the back room after her quarry. He was lighting a lantern, his head bent at the task.
    “I’m not asking you to stop your activities, you know,” she said.
    He froze, his broad back to her.

    She hastened on. “I merely wish you to do them elsewhere. It’s a good opportunity for you to make easy money. It’s funds you wouldn’t have otherwise, and all