Page 93 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
Someone dropped a barrel from a cart going the other direction, and Gabriel’s horse shied. It tossed her against him. She let herself lean against him longer than was strictly necessary and grinned up at him, once he had the horse back under his control.
He smiled down at her. “We must get a thorough idea of the layout of the shop while we are there,” he said intently. “They likely have a back area just for fittings. I’ve been thinking I can hide in there. Chester and Sterne can wait outside the back door and Tensford can move in to cover the front once Hurley enters the shop. Stoneacre too, if he is available.”
She sighed. Clearly, they were not focusing on the same things. Still, she nodded stoutly. “There is no way he could escape such a net.”
“No, I don’t believe so.” He drew a deep breath. “I can scarcely believe this might be the end of it.”
Neither could she. She could not wait to see some of the burdens lifted off of him. It made her proud to think she might have a hand in bringing it about.
He pulled the curricle to the side of the street and handed off the reins to the groom. They walked the last few feet to the shop and entered casually, as if they were merely out strolling and shopping.
“Good morning, sir. Ma’am.” A tall, slim man came from behind a counter lined with bolts of fine fabric. “Welcome. I should be most happy to assist you.”
“Good morning.” Charlotte stepped forward. “Are you Mr. Timms, by chance?”
He looked startled. “I am.”
“I am happy to make your acquaintance. I brought my husband because a man told me how impressed he was with your work. He wore a waistcoat, silvery grey with accents in rose and white.”
“Oh, yes. I do know the piece you mean.”
“He liked it so well, he ordered another from you.”
Mr. Timms brightened. “He did, indeed. But what a happy coincidence. Your friend arrived early to collect his new waistcoat. Fortunately, I had it finished early, as well.” He nodded toward the back of the shop. “He is trying the fit right now, as we speak. Perhaps you could help advise—”
He paused as Charlotte stilled. Beside her, Gabriel had frozen, as well. They exchanged stricken glances.
Grim-faced, her husband reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol. “Stay here,” he ordered. Moving quickly and quietly, he pushed past the curtain that separated the front and back of the shop.
“What? Was that a—”
A scramble of footsteps and exclamations were clearly audible. A shout rang out. Gabriel’s voice. “Stop right there, Hurley!”
A crash sounded and a muffled curse. Charlotte started for the curtain, but Mr. Timms held on to her arm. “Excuse me, but what is going on? What is this all about?”
“That man is not my friend sir. He is a scoundrel and a dangerous thief. Perhaps a murderer.” She wrenched away and threw open the curtain. A couple of long mirrors were lined against the wall, each with a dais before it. Before one of them sprawled a small man, surrounded by pins. Beyond him lay a jumble of patterns and fabrics on the floor and a door, standing open to the alley beyond.
Another, bigger crash echoed from outside. She rushed to the door in time to see Gabriel scaling a barricade of fallen crates and boxes. At the top, he leaped down and disappeared behind them.
Charlotte whirled and ran back through the shop, scooping up a bolt of rolled muslin as she went. She carried it with her as she burst out onto the pavement and turned right, hurrying as fast as she could. That alley must surely let out onto the street around the corner, at the end of the block.
She moved fast. It helped that the morning was fading and so was the midday crowd on the pavement. Rounding the corner, she pelted for the alley and stopped just short of it, struggling to catch her breath.
It took but a moment before Hurley spilled out, right in front of her. He looked wildly left and right, but didn’t spot her, against the building. He eyed the traffic, judging the moment he would dart out.
When he made his move, she did as well. She stepped forward and hurled the bolt of fabric, aiming it like a spear. It struck Hurley high on his back, between his shoulders, and sent him sprawling onto the pavement, his head mere inches from the cobblestones of the street.
Cursing, he scrambled back and looked around. He spotted her this time and his face darkened. He took a step toward her.
A shout sounded. Hurley stopped. With a last, threatening look, he turned and darted out into the street, dodging a carriage, and heading for the other side.
Gabriel erupted out of the alley. He paused when he saw her, but she waved him on, pointing toward the spot where Hurley had disappeared. Gabriel nodded. “Be careful!” he shouted as he went after him.
She stood a moment, drawing in one breath after another. At last, she straightened her bonnet and headed back for the tailor’s shop.
She found Chester in the doorway, arguing with Mr. Timms. He caught sight of her coming and came running. She explained quickly and sent him off to see if he could help Gabriel, then turned to go and smooth Mr. Timms’ ruffled feathers.
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