Page 35 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
“Show me one of your opening moves, Inspector.”
He slid a pawn forward as did she. Then, after a few moments’ consideration, he advanced another pawn. A sacrifice.
Each time he slid a piece from one square to another, he hesitated, tapping his index finger atop the marble figure. Allie found even that small tell fascinating. He surveyed the board, even in these early moves. Detective Inspector Drake was not impulsive. He took his time, then slid his piece toward her with utter confidence.
When he put his knight in play next, he shot her a questioning look.
“A potentially disastrous gambit.” Allie beamed. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’m playing as Helen does.”
“Your sister is quite clever.”
“Tell me why it works.”
For the next while, Allie showed him why the gambitcouldwork to white’s advantage. She felt as if she was giving away arcane secrets by showing him how black could thwart the aggressive maneuvers.
They practiced a few variations, not truly playing a match. Drake asked excellent questions andseemed to genuinely appreciate her knowledge of the game.
“Still no sign of him,” Mr. Gibson informed them, peeking his head into the back room. “But there is something odd.”
“What’s that?” Drake asked, curiosity deepening the two grooves between his brows.
“Another man has been watching the shop from across the street for the last forty minutes.”
Chapter Eight
At Gibson’s words, Drake felt the tug of intuition that Miss Prince had spoken about. A twisting in his gut that demanded a response.
He moved past the older man and strode into the shop, taking care to remain behind a high row of shelves lining the main counter. A scan of the shops across from Princes revealed working-class Londoners moving past and one couple who lingered in heated conversation outside the stationer’s located one shop down.
No sign of anyone watching Princes.
But then a cloud of smoke came into view, and the answer to that tug in his middle emerged from the haze.
A figure stood receded in the mouth of the alley where he’d met with Fitz. The short, barrel-chested man took another draw on his pipe as Drake observed him. Recognized him. A moment later, another gray cloud wafted up, and when it had cleared, he had no doubts.
The well-known thief’s presence here, watching Princes when Holcroft should have appeared, did not bode well.
“Do you see him?” Miss Prince had emerged from the back room and came to stand behind him.
“I do, and I know who he is.”
“You do?” She gripped his arm in her eagerness and then began to push forward as if she yearned for a look herself. He reached out to keep her back.
She made a huffing sound of protest but remained concealed.
He turned, took her hand, and led her to a corner of the shop completely out of sight of the front windows.
When they’d stopped, she made no move to withdraw her hand. He found himself enjoying that simple point of contact too much and released her.
“He’s a known thief called Jack Demming. Usually to be found around the docks or across the river in Southwark, so it’s odd that he’d be here.”
Her eyes widened and excitement all but rose off her like the smoke from Demming’s pipe. “Maybe it’s one of the other men I saw. I need to get a look.”
She moved quickly, and he reached out to stop her, but she’d already crept up toward the window. Cleverly, she kept to the side wall and then finally approached a large tapestry that mostly hid her from view. Peeking around, she let out a thoughtfulhmm.
“He could be one of them. The right stature and size.”
