Page 99 of The Miracle of Love
He had just taken the cloaks in hand when he heard Grace scream.
He raced to the foyer in time to see her stumble and then clutch her throat.
For one mad moment, he thought someone had slit her throat. But he quickly realized a wretched thief had merely snatched her necklace.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “He pushed me as he grabbed the necklace. Go after him, Deklan. I promise you, I am not hurt.”
He tore after the man, catching up to him as he was about to disappear into a nearby alleyway. He tackled the culprit with a flying leap, and smashed the man’s hand when he attempted to pull out a knife. But it turned out not to be a knife at all, just a coin purse. “No, m’lord! It was a prank. Don’t break m’hand. Here. I’m givin’ you the necklace and what I got paid.”
“You idiot. Who put you up to it?”
“Lady Somerset’s friend. You know the one. She looks like a wasp. The lady said yer wife’s necklace was a fake and she meant to prove it. Said I’d come to no harm. Ye’re fast as lightning, m’lord. No one ever catches me. I wasn’t stealing it, just going to turn it over to the lady. She was going to give it back to your wife, she told me.”
“And you believed her?” This boy was fleet of foot but utterly lacking in brains. Only a complete dolt would have failed to understand it was a theft and Velda was never going to stand by him. Nor would Genevieve put in a word for him, even though this had obviously been done at her urging.
That vindictive pair had not counted on his catching the boy, but were more than willing to let him take the fall for their predatory antics.
“Yes, m’lord. She said she would return it. Truly, I meant no harm by it. She paid me to do it. Just a prank. That’s all it was meant to be. No harm done.”
“I suppose pushing my wife was also a prank.” He hoisted the man to his feet and dragged him back to the elegant hotel. “Summon the constable,” he told one of the stewards.
“At once, Mr. Quinton. Why, that’s one of our kitchen scullery boys. William Penny, what do you think you were doing?”
“It was a prank,” the young man repeated, still trying to talk his way out of a prison sentence. “The fine lady paid me.”
He pointed to Genevieve’s cousin who was just now walking out of the tea room with the Somerset party. “There! Ask her. She’ll tell ye.”
Two of the hotel’s burly footmen arrived to assist.
Deklan handed the lad over to them. “Hold him for the constable.”
The hotel’s manager hurried forward, wringing his hands and offering apologies. Deklan took a moment to relate what had happened. “Have Lord Somerset speak to the boy. He might recognize the coin purse.”
Of course, Velda would accuse the boy of stealing it from her.
The authorities would accept her denial because this is how social conventions worked. A scullery boy would never be believed over the cousin of a countess.
But Somerset would understand what had really gone on.
That idiot boy.
What had he been thinking?
Did he understand yet his life was in ruins?
Well, toiling in a scullery could not have been much of a life.
The hotel’s foyer was suddenly crowded as the tea room emptied out amid the commotion.
He needed to find Grace.
One helpful woman pointed to the door. “She walked out with an old lady.”
What the hell?
Deklan stepped outside and saw Grace slowly escorting a hooded figure in a cloak toward a waiting carriage.
Was this another ruse to lure Grace away from him?
