Page 11 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
“Yes, of course. My apologies.” Allie arched back, allowing the man to pass, then pushed past the customers queuing to place an order and made her way out the back door.
The trio were clustered together not ten feet away, and the tallest lifted his head when the door hinges squeaked. He wore dark glasses that obscured his eyes, and a beard and mustache concealed the rest of his face.
After seeming to hold her gaze for a moment, he turned and strode quickly down to the far end of the alley. The two other men followed, struggling to match his long-legged gait.
Allie stood thunderstruck. Though she hadn’t seen his eyes, having the tall man’s attention on her for a moment made her skin crawl.
Were the trio truly planning an attempt on the Crown Jewels?
As mad as the prospect was, something told her that the man in the dark glasses could pull it off. Everything about him felt sinister, and he moved with a confidence neither of his companions seemed to share.
In a sort of muddled daze, Allie found herself at the front door of Princes and only then realized she hadn’t acquired the coffee or treats she’d promised to bring for Jo and Mr. Gibson.
“There you are!” Jo stepped out of Princes andushered Allie inside. “What were you doing waiting at the door?”
She wrapped an arm around Allie and chafed her opposite sleeve, trying to generate some heat. Then her friend pulled back, her blue eyes widening.
“Heavens, how long were you out there? You’re pale as chalk and look as if you’ve seen a specter.”
“I overheard something disturbing, Jo.”
Was she mad to give it any credence? A trio of suspicious men who didn’t look equipped to pull off the robbery of the century didn’t equate to a real threat. Probably just idle talk.
Except for the thread of fear in the one man’s voice, and the unrelenting ominousness of the other’s presence.
Jo perched a hand on one hip. “Are you going to tell me or must I guess?”
“Three men were sitting at a table and...”
“And?” Jo prompted impatiently, already intrigued.
“They spoke about stealing the Crown Jewels.” Allie whispered the words hesitantly as if someone might overhear, though she hadn’t even put the OPEN sign out yet on the shop door.
“Steal them?” Jo said, her forehead puckering under a fringe of dark hair. “The Crown Jewels? In the Tower of London? Guarded by a dozen tower warders?”
A rumbling chortle drew both of their gazes toward the entry to Princes’ back room. Mr. Gibson stood in the doorway, giving in to a rare moment of mirth.
Allie had seen him smile plenty, but breaking into unbridled laughter? Almost never.
“A wild delusion even for the wiliest thief.”
Jo chuckled too. “It would be impossible, and you certainly wouldn’t sit about plotting at a public coffeehouse.”
“Oh, they weren’t plotting. In fact, two of them were quite set against it. Or even discussing it. But the other was—” A shiver stopped Allie midthought. If she described the man, she’d sound fanciful and silly.
“Only one man has tried and failed,” Mr. Gibson intoned thoughtfully. “Not much to inspire future thieves.”
“Was he beheaded?” Jo asked with the same bloodthirsty eagerness she always showed for one of the colorful stories from history that Allie tended to regale her with.
Gibson let out a bark of laughter. “Not at all, Lady Josephine. Indeed, Thomas Blood was pardoned by the king.”
“Really? Then it’s a wonder no one tried after him,” Jo opined.
“A fair point.” Gibson laid a rag he’d been wiping his hands with aside and strode toward the front door of the shop. “Shall I collect our coffee?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Gibson,” Allie told him. “I wandered out in a bit of a daze.”
Once he’d gone, Jo drew Allie over to the upholstered mahogany Chippendale chairs they usually sat in for their chats. “You’re shockingly quiet, Allie. What’s upset you so?”
