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Authors: Shirlee Busbee
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eyes lighted on her, Pip sent him a wide grin and jerked her head toward the ring.
Correctly interpreting her signal, Ben idly moved away from his position and wandered off to find Jacko to let him know that all was wellâso far. Now that their prey had been found, they could go about their business of working the crowd. Passing a plump banker who had unwisely worn a tempting watch on a gold chain, Ben deftly lifted it from the unsuspecting man and continued on his way.
Pip, too, was busy as she slowly worked her way back to Royceâs proximity. The press and jostle of the crowd made her task easy, and by the time she found Royce again, she had managed to steal two very fine silk handkerchiefs, a silver snuffbox, and a jeweled stickpin. Her small size made her efforts ludicrously easy, few people paying any attention to the grubby little street urchin garbed in a shabby, ill-fitting green jacket and worn gray pantaloons. The small black cloth cap with its concealing visor was pulled low, almost onto the bridge of her nose, and it effectively hid most of her face, but allowed her to scan the crowd unobtrusively.
Since Pip was the smallest of the Fowlers, able to move with eel-like ease through the milling throng, and the one with the cleverest fingers, it had been decided among them that she would be the one to rob Manchester. Having positioned herself near the tall American, she watched him for several moments, sizing him up and making a mental inventory of his belongings, selecting which objects would be the most expensive and easily stolen.
If Royce noticed the small, poorly dressed figure lurking near his particular group, he gave no sign. In fact, Royce was too busy watching Zachary and Julian Devlin stiffly greeting each other to pay any attention to the little fellow in the green jacket.
Julian Devlin was nearly as tall as Zachary, with black hair and the well-known striking brows and gray eyes of all the Devlins. He was, at just twenty-two, whipcord-lean and arrogantly handsome. An utterly charming young rogue, he carried himself proudly, as befitted the heir and only child of the Earl of St. Audries.
Royce found it extremely enlightening that neither Julian nor Zachary had attempted to make the many friends they had in common choose between them. And while it was obvious that there was some constraint between the two young men, Royce was rather pleased at the way they each attempted to act with civility around the other.
As he was about to turn away, Royceâs attention was caught by the sudden scowl that lit young Devlinâs chiseled features, and looking to see what had caused such displeasure, he was not exactly surprised to see the Earl himself and a coterie of friends leisurely making their way through the crowd, stopping to greet this one and that as they edged nearer the ring. So the gossip is true, Royce thought. The Earl and his son are estranged. At least it shows the boy has excellent taste, Royce reflected grimly as he recognized several of the men in the group around the Earl.
Stephen Devlin, the Earl of St. Audries, for reasons not exactly clear, was not universally liked by the various members of the ton. There was certainly no fault to be found with either his elegantly handsome features or his polished manners. Because of his birth and breeding, as well as the fortune he had inherited from his sister-in-law upon her tragic death nearly twenty years ago, he had entrée everywhere, but this did not insure that he was equally respected and esteemed. For the most part, he and his wife, Lucinda, were merely tolerated by the leaders of society, the gossips whispering that they were a little too proud of themselves, a bit too smugly delighted with their unexpected ascension to the title and wealth. Consequently the people who did find their company enjoyable were not of the highest standing. And that definitely applies to those two fellows, Royce decided caustically as his gaze fell
Correctly interpreting her signal, Ben idly moved away from his position and wandered off to find Jacko to let him know that all was wellâso far. Now that their prey had been found, they could go about their business of working the crowd. Passing a plump banker who had unwisely worn a tempting watch on a gold chain, Ben deftly lifted it from the unsuspecting man and continued on his way.
Pip, too, was busy as she slowly worked her way back to Royceâs proximity. The press and jostle of the crowd made her task easy, and by the time she found Royce again, she had managed to steal two very fine silk handkerchiefs, a silver snuffbox, and a jeweled stickpin. Her small size made her efforts ludicrously easy, few people paying any attention to the grubby little street urchin garbed in a shabby, ill-fitting green jacket and worn gray pantaloons. The small black cloth cap with its concealing visor was pulled low, almost onto the bridge of her nose, and it effectively hid most of her face, but allowed her to scan the crowd unobtrusively.
Since Pip was the smallest of the Fowlers, able to move with eel-like ease through the milling throng, and the one with the cleverest fingers, it had been decided among them that she would be the one to rob Manchester. Having positioned herself near the tall American, she watched him for several moments, sizing him up and making a mental inventory of his belongings, selecting which objects would be the most expensive and easily stolen.
If Royce noticed the small, poorly dressed figure lurking near his particular group, he gave no sign. In fact, Royce was too busy watching Zachary and Julian Devlin stiffly greeting each other to pay any attention to the little fellow in the green jacket.
Julian Devlin was nearly as tall as Zachary, with black hair and the well-known striking brows and gray eyes of all the Devlins. He was, at just twenty-two, whipcord-lean and arrogantly handsome. An utterly charming young rogue, he carried himself proudly, as befitted the heir and only child of the Earl of St. Audries.
Royce found it extremely enlightening that neither Julian nor Zachary had attempted to make the many friends they had in common choose between them. And while it was obvious that there was some constraint between the two young men, Royce was rather pleased at the way they each attempted to act with civility around the other.
As he was about to turn away, Royceâs attention was caught by the sudden scowl that lit young Devlinâs chiseled features, and looking to see what had caused such displeasure, he was not exactly surprised to see the Earl himself and a coterie of friends leisurely making their way through the crowd, stopping to greet this one and that as they edged nearer the ring. So the gossip is true, Royce thought. The Earl and his son are estranged. At least it shows the boy has excellent taste, Royce reflected grimly as he recognized several of the men in the group around the Earl.
Stephen Devlin, the Earl of St. Audries, for reasons not exactly clear, was not universally liked by the various members of the ton. There was certainly no fault to be found with either his elegantly handsome features or his polished manners. Because of his birth and breeding, as well as the fortune he had inherited from his sister-in-law upon her tragic death nearly twenty years ago, he had entrée everywhere, but this did not insure that he was equally respected and esteemed. For the most part, he and his wife, Lucinda, were merely tolerated by the leaders of society, the gossips whispering that they were a little too proud of themselves, a bit too smugly delighted with their unexpected ascension to the title and wealth. Consequently the people who did find their company enjoyable were not of the highest standing. And that definitely applies to those two fellows, Royce decided caustically as his gaze fell
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