1

LONDON, 879

Hyde Park teemed with crowds; dozens had gathered to catch a glimpse of the latest attraction, for Punch and Judy had come, and not even the oppressive heat and stench of London in the summer could keep the onlookers away. Della had no particular interest in the anarchic puppet and his wife, but it was a useful distraction. For the past fifteen minutes she had stood at the edge of the park, whistling aimlessly to herself, as though waiting for the show to get started. She was careful to keep her expression curious, not bored, so as not to give herself away as an outsider, but always with a sharp eye on the lookout.

She had found her target.

He stood to the edge of the throng, taller than most around him, dressed in a fine grey jacket and fawn trousers. More for the takin’ , she told herself. She almost smirked as she finally straightened from where she leaned against a tree and made her way towards him, looking for all the world as though she were simply trying to get closer to the colorfully painted booth around which the people had gathered. Her gaze fell on the expensive-looking watch fob at his waist and a small smile curled her lips. She edged closer to him, careful to use the noise of the crowds to cover her approach. A few more paces, and she was within touching distance of him.

A burst of laughter erupted as Punch squawked that he had defeated the Devil, and everyone surged forward as they tried to get closer, jostling the man in front of her. Della made her move. She darted forward, caught the fob and the watch attached in one practiced palm, and turned to retreat.

A hand snaked out of the mass of bodies and ensnared her wrist. She whirled in an instant, saw that her mark had her in his astonishingly tight grip, and tried to yank herself free with an outraged gasp. It was no use. She looked up, but the sun was behind him, and his features were cast in shadow.

“Let me go!” she snarled, grabbing his wrist with her free hand. She glanced around, looking for an escape route while trying not to draw too much attention to herself. Growling at his relentless grip, she finally abandoned caution when she lifted her leg and drove her heel into his instep. He loosened his hold with an angry grunt, and she took the opportunity to turn and run.

Della sprinted towards the edge of the crowd, not daring to look back before she took cover behind a bandstand, pausing only to catch her breath. Staying hidden behind the structure, she made her way down an alley through to the mews behind the shops lining the street before finally turning to see if she had been followed. There was no one around, and she took a seat on a packing crate to examine her new treasure.

Engraved into the polished gold cover of the watch were the initials C.W. Well, whoever C.W. was, he must have eyes in the back of his bloody head to have caught her in the act. She never got caught, and her skill had earned her the reputation as the best diver in all of St. Giles – and the moniker of Rosie Diver. She frowned at the engraving. Her fence would have to christen the watch for her, removing the engraving which would lower its value.

She pursed her lips as she flipped open the cover to see the time. A minor slip-up, she rationalized. Next time she would be more careful in choosing her marks. She glanced around the alley, saw she was still alone, and pocketed the watch. One more step closer to her goal of escaping the rookery; that much closer to her dream. She smiled in anticipation as she stood and made to go back the way she had come.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she glanced up and saw her mark blocking her exit. Her stomach lurched in a moment of surprise. She hadn’t heard a single footfall – how had he snuck up on her like that? His features were clear now at least, and he was undeniably handsome in the sort of square-jawed, broad-shouldered way most ladies would swoon over – but not Della Rose. He offered her a polite nod as she took a small step backwards.

“I believe you have my pocket watch, young lady.”

Della drew in a deep breath and shrugged. “Don’t know what you mean, sir. I ain’t got no watch.”

He smiled. “Odd, I saw you examining a watch identical to my own just this moment. Perhaps I was mistaken?”

She narrowed her eyes. He didn’t know who he was dealing with. “Maybe.” She spoke in a low voice, never taking her gaze from his.

“Then perhaps I am also mistaken in identifying you as the young woman who nearly broke my foot not five minutes ago?”

Della allowed herself to smirk as she faced him, arms crossed, and responded with the smallest tilt of her head. His smile never faded. He even chuckled a little.

“No, I don’t think I would forget a thief quite as interesting as you.”

She shook her head. What in the hell was wrong with this man? Why hadn’t he called for a copper yet to have her arrested?

“Get out of my way,” she said with a scowl and tried to step past him, but his large frame blocked her way.

“I have a proposition for you.”

She glanced up to find him looking earnestly down at her and responded with a withering glare as she tried to step past him. “Not interested. I’m no whore,” she said, moving to the other side of the alley to get around him.

“I have no need of that. How would you like to earn yourself five thousand pounds?”

She halted in her tracks and gaped at him, unsure as to how to reply. Was the man completely off his head? An escaped resident of Bedlam, perhaps? Those people could be dangerous. She looked away from him, trying to draw his attention away from her.

“Don’t think so,” she muttered as she tried to slip by him once more. Again, he moved to stand in her way, and a small swell of panic tightened her chest.

“May I ask your name?” The lunatic was still smiling! She backed away from him, certain the man had taken leave of his senses.

“My name?” she repeated, attempting to distract him. A narrow lane on the other side of the alley caught her attention. Her muscles tensed as she readied to sprint for the way out. She caught his eye for a moment, and he must have sensed her fear, for his smile faded and he took a step back from her.

“Forgive me. I can see I’ve confused you. I’m not an escaped Bedlam patient, I assure you.” He laughed at the wary look she gave him when he read her thoughts so effortlessly. “Allow me to introduce myself.” He paused and bent in a slight bow. “My name is Cole Winthrop, and I am in need of a thief.”

She raised a brow at this statement, still not convinced that this man was altogether right in the head. He held up his hands in supplication and gave her what she had to admit was quite a winning smile.

“You think I’m mad.” It was a statement, not a question, and she shrugged.

“Couldn’t say for sure, sir, but you’ll have to find yourself another thief. I work alone and I ain’t for hire.” Seeing now that he meant no harm, she stepped past him and headed back for the park.

“Wait!”

She turned and he came towards her, hesitant now, his smile replaced by a look of desperation. “Please, I need your help. I need a thief… and you’re perfect.”

Della scoffed as she settled her weight onto one hip and crossed her arms. “I can take you back to the park and point out at least ten boys willing to do your dirty work for you. As I said, I ain’t for hire.”

He shook his head. “I don’t need a boy. I need a woman… an attractive woman, to be precise.”

Della burst out laughing as she looked down at herself. Her skirts and jacket, both nicked from a dressmaker’s shop to blend in with middle-class crowds, had been over-mended and repeatedly patched, and she was aware of the tangled mess of her hair, and the effort she had made to stuff pins in it to create a passable chignon.

“Then I’m no use to you at all,” she said, laughing as she turned away from him once more.

“You’re wrong. You’re exactly what I need.”

Della pivoted to face him at this abrupt statement. She huffed out an exasperated breath and, tired of his riddles, reached into her pocket for his watch and tossed it to him. He caught it, his brow furrowing as he met her gaze.

“I’m not for bloody hire,” she repeated, angry now. Who the hell did he think he was?

“If you think I’m propositioning you as a prostitute, you’d be wrong. I need a thief… only a thief. At least let me explain before you dismiss me.”

Rolling her eyes, Della dropped onto a stoop, put her chin in her hands and gazed up at him, expectant. “Go on.”

He appeared momentarily perplexed by her actions but shrugged and drew in a sharp breath. “Somebody has stolen something that belonged to my father. Something very valuable.”

Della stared at him for a moment. “Couldn’t you just go to the coppers?”

At this point, the man shook his head and drew himself up to his full height. “I’m afraid that would be impossible. This is a… delicate matter, one beyond the scope of the police. I am also in a position to help you should you agree.”

“Help me?” Della raised an eyebrow at this. It was now that the man’s cheerful expression grew a shade more cunning.

“I feel it is safe to say that law enforcement would appreciate the opportunity to have one less pickpocket on the streets, no?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And?”

“And I could ensure that any investigations our local police have open into your… doings… as I’m certain they do, would be permanently closed. I have many friends in very high places. A clean record and a large sum of money could be the start of a new life for a young woman from the streets. But in the meantime, I do require someone… unscrupulous.”

A small smile lifted Della’s lips. “Ten thousand pounds.”

The man frowned at her. “I beg your pardon?”

She stood and brushed off her skirts. “You said you’d pay me five thousand pounds. But I ain’t without some scruples. It’ll cost you twice that for me to lose ’em.”

“You don’t even know what I want you to steal yet,” he said, his brows raised in an incredulous expression as though he hadn’t expected her, a thief of all people, to ask for more. She almost laughed.

“Does it matter?”

Suddenly, and to her shock, the man’s smile returned, and he stuck out his hand. “Done. We have an agreement.”

She hadn’t expected him to agree to such an outrageous sum, and she stared at him for a moment. That she was even considering his proposal was absurd, yet the idea of ten thousand pounds to her name made her heart race. That amount would set her up for years to come… for life. No more picking pockets, no more living in a brothel. That one dream she had carried deep in her heart for so many years would be within her grasp. Biting her lip, she looked away from the man named Cole. What would Violet do? She drew in a deep breath and glanced up at him.

“What exactly would I be nicking?”

His smile faded and his gaze slid away from her as though to search for eavesdroppers. Seeming satisfied they were alone, he looked back at her. “Some important documents were taken from me and I need you to steal them back.”

Della couldn’t help but grimace at this. “Documents? You mean to pay me ten thousand pounds to steal a load of papers?” Somehow, she had expected something more exciting than that – rubies or diamonds or priceless artifacts.

He shook his head. “They’re more than just papers. They contain information I would rather not have become public knowledge. My life and the lives of many others are in danger if that information is released.”

Della tilted her head. “And it hasn’t been yet?”

“The information is written in code, but the person who has it will almost certainly be working to decipher it. I need to get everything back before they do so.” He paused. Della said nothing to this, but looked down, frowning. Ten thousand pounds was a huge amount of money, more than she could hope for in a lifetime, vastly more than she could ever make diving at Punch and Judy shows. The man seemed reasonable enough, and she’d spent enough of her life around untrustworthy people to know when someone was just that. Still, she hesitated. It was a dangerous business trusting others where she came from.

Cole’s smile returned. It was a damn fine smile, she had to admit. “If it helps, you will be staying with me in my home near Belgrave Square. Your own room and three square meals a day.”

Her stomach rumbled at this, reminding her of the hunger that was a constant part of living in Seven Dials. She glanced down at her shabby dress once more. “And new clothes?”

He chuckled and extended his hand. “Only the best.”

Della paused, staring at it. The hunger must be making her delirious, but she was ready to say yes. Cora had been generous in letting out her only spare room to Della, but she had been waiting for any excuse to get out of that place.

“I’ll have to get my things…” she began, glancing up at him.

“Anything, but we must hurry. It is only a matter of time before the thieves break the code.”

Della took his hand and managed a wry smile. “Pickin’ a pocket only takes a few seconds. It’s the plannin’ that takes the most time.”

“Then let us be on our way.”