Chapter Fifteen

T here was something new and different from the ever-present thread of desire between him and Danny today. A sense of quiet contentment Percy hadn't expected.

With Denise somewhere on the grounds preoccupying the displeased Mrs. Pebblestone with some new malady, Percy leaned back against a low-lying stone wall, one of dozens in Grandfellow's topiary park. Eating sandwiches layered with varied thin slices of meat and cucumber and taking in the filtered rays of the warm sun, Percy concluded revealing one's true nature to another person was a freeing exercise that left a kind of peace to one's constitution.

Taking another bite of salted pork between two healthy slices of rye bread, Percy found he didn't mind the peace or quiet one bit, or the sandwiches.

"Teach me one of your cons," Danny said beside him.

Percy choked on his bite and pounded his chest with a fist. The blanket they were using for Danny's activity choice of a picnic twisted around his boot. An activity Percy had assumed was less likely to end with them in some dire situation. Now he had second thoughts.

"Cons?" He set down his food in hopes of further harm and cast a frown her way. "I told you I was an officer."

Her returning expression was stubborn. "Not always an officer."

He tilted his head to get a better angle to look at her face. This should be good. "And what other occupation do you believe I held?"

"A spy and a conman."

"Obviously," he muttered. No use denying the allegations. There must have been a smell men like him carried around, something the nose of a buttoned-up lady of the ton could sniff out like old trout. Though he'd wager Danny was a rare breed that far surpassed all others. What other woman could sniff out his secrets while wearing the most fetching sunflower gold frock, all with the expression of a general staring down her enemy until they cracked?

Not seeing a way out of answering, Percy relented. "We prefer the term prestidigitator ."

"Prestidigitators are illusionists that entertain the masses," she pushed back immediately. "I doubt your prestiditeg-es are amused once they realize they've been conned."

Percy ran a hand over his face. She was a freaking dog with a bone. And as stubborn as a bull in the pen. There was no getting out of it, then.

He sat up and pointed to one of the gardeners across the park currently moving potted topiaries to one side of the walk, standing back and apparently finding fault, and then returning them to their original position, only to repeat the process a minute later.

English servants were touched in the head. There must have been something more productive for a grown man to do than play board-less chess in the middle of the afternoon?

"Imagine you want that topiary," he said.

Danny laughed. "Why would I want a bush cut to resemble a bear?"

He raised his brows at her lack of imagination. "Perhaps it's the only remaining record of the animal. Maybe the late Thomas Woolner cut it during his last hours of life. A collector would pay handsomely to have such a rare piece from the artist they admired, wouldn't they?"

"That bear was cut by Mr. Stonebrook, a most prestigious gardener ." She frowned at the bush. "I'm not even sure that's actually meant to be a bear." She squinted. "A boar on its hind legs?" Her head tilted to look from a different angle. "A pregnant goat rearing in a fit of apoplexy?"

Percy rolled his eyes. This coming from the woman who couldn't imagine a priceless tree worth pinching. "Work with me, woman."

She sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "You were saying the topiary is the last precious piece by a famous, dead artist."

Percy nodded. "And you want to steal it."

Her eyes widened. "I do?"

He leaned close, enjoying her quick intake of breath. " We do."

She licked her lips. "Where do we start?"

Her eagerness was so damn charming. Percy cleared his throat and mentally slugged himself. Focus, damn it .

Percy cleared away a spot on the blanket and used what remained in their basket to indicate each position.

He set a ham sandwich down. "This here represents the gardener. What we call the ‘mark.' As in—"

"The person you wish to con." Danny waved her hand for him to glance over the obvious.

Next, the chicken sandwich on a buttery, toasted, wheat roll he set at a spot behind the ham. "You will work in Mr. Stoneybrook's blind spot."

"Stonebrook," Danny corrected.

Of course she knew the name of his gardener. No doubt along with the man's wife and three children's names and how many seedlings they kept in pots by their window over the winter.

"Do you wish to learn or not?" he asked.

Danny mimed buttoning her lips, silently promising to hold her tongue... until she mimed unbuttoning her lips and said, "Must I be the chicken sandwich? It feels wrong."

"The chicken feels wrong?" He spoke the words carefully, making sure it sounded as crazy when he said it as when she did.

She nodded. "Couldn't I be the roast lamb? Or the garnished eggplant?"

Percy blinked. "There's an eggplant sandwich?" He searched for the remaining items in the basket and, indeed, found a telling purple layered sandwich, the bread soaked through to wet paste. He dropped the thing and grimaced as it made an unappealing splat . "Why on Earth would you wish to be the eggplant?"

"It's unexpected, isn't it?" Her brow wrinkled. "I was under the impression I am charged with seeming unthreatening, so the mark underestimates my threat."

Jesus. "You got all of that out of two sandwich placements?"

Percy reflected on if he truly wished to continue the woman's education in criminal sport, realizing he may have been feeding a monster in the making.

It was a credit to his own monstrous nature that he found the idea of Lady Danny's shift to underhanded tactics wildly arousing.

"You're correct," he said. "Except it's my job, as the distraction, to play the unassuming."

He saw the wheels turning in her mind as she tapped her chin. "So... you're the eggplant?"

Percy sighed. "Yes, I'm the stupid eggplant." How had he gotten roped into these ridiculous conversations?

"What am I to do, then?" she asked.

He grinned, pulling the last sandwich from the basket: a five-layered beauty of salami, ham, roast beef, cheddar, and some kind of pickled beet. Upon reflection, a much better substitute for the complicated woman at his side.

Replacing the chicken sandwich, he set the new indicator down. "You are the real star. While I distract Mr. Stoney, you will pinch the topiary."

She didn't correct the name-butchering a second time. No, her head was firmly in the game.

"Won't he notice right away the topiary is missing and catch us?" she asked.

He tapped his nose. "Not if we put a fake in its place."

Her mouth dipped into a disbelieving curve on one side. "And where, pray tell, are we to magically acquire a perfect fake in the next few minutes?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't need to be a perfect match. Only close enough of a resemblance to pass a glancing inspection so when the gardener moves on, if he happens to glance back, he'll see what he expects to see."

Danny's eyes lit with understanding. "And by the time he realizes the tailless sow is missing, we'll be long gone."

He leaned back and took a bite of the five-layered heaven, speaking around his bite. "It's called a ‘Frenchman's Switch.' Used to play the trick on unsuspecting tourists all the time as a boy."

Danny laughed. "I bet you were good at it?"

"Not at first," he said lightly, though the words conjured childhood memories weighted like boulders.

Finishing the sandwich, Percy brushed the crumbs from his hands. "Do you think you understand the play?"

"I believe so."

"Good." Percy smiled and gave her a nudge. "Because now we're going to do it."

She startled. "You want us to literally steal that maybe-a-bear-probably-a-bloated-rabbit topiary?"

"No better way to learn than by doing."

"We shouldn't," she started.

But as her little, white teeth came out to worry her bottom lip, with her distinctly using the word ‘shouldn't' instead of ‘couldn't,' Percy knew he had her.

Pointing to a field down the hill running alongside the treeline, where an overgrown but clearly marked path led around the park and out into the other side of the topiary gardens, Percy told her, "Use the path and keep low. Pick up stray sticks that will be the right height and freshly dropped leaves that are still green." He pinched a half a dozen pins from her coif and handed them to her, resisting the urge to run his fingers through the curtain of chocolate-rich hair that fell.

"When you've found enough material, stick them together."

He felt the excitement building in her through her shaking hands and increased breaths.

She licked her lips again, clearly one hundred percent in her role because she murmured low, "When will I know to exchange the pots?"

"I'll give you this signal." He made a high-pitched whistle, though quiet enough not to draw Mr. Stonebrook's attention. After he'd repeated the sound twice more, he asked, "Think you're ready for this, partner?"

It wasn't as if they were caught, Scotland Yard would be hauling them off to the pen, but there was still a risk of gossip by the servants if Lady Daniella Deime and the new Duke of Grandfellow were found stealing topiaries and sneaking around in a most unbecoming fashion.

All this Danny had to be painfully aware of, being the daughter of an earl and previously familiar with the ugliness of the ton 's chatter and ridicule. But Danny showed no nerves at all as those lovely lips curled upwards in a conspiratorial smile that had Percy reaching for that godforsaken mushed excuse for a sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth to keep from kissing her senseless.

"Let's do it," she said, the spark in her eyes contagious. "Let's con Stoney."

Percy's smile stretched until he was sure he could pose for a dentifrice campaign. He swallowed the eggplant and waved her on. "After you."

"No, no." She shook her head. "I'm not here, remember? Go on as if I'm but a cricket in the grass and unworthy of note."

Percy continued smiling at the beautiful creature in front of him, looking as harmless and innocent as the wisps of clouds in the sky. No one would suspect beneath that simple frock, a storm of a woman was brewing to blow the years of elitist rules far to the sea.

He couldn't wait.

*

Arms full of her bounty, Danny picked her way through the path and stopped in the shelter of the waist-high wall that separated park from garden to construct her patchwork counterfeit.

With shaky hands and a racing heart, she did her best to put together a passing likeness of the topiary, while listening for Percy's signal.

Deep down, she knew the feeling of excitement was wrong. A person who enjoyed taking other's things was halfway gone to criminal, weren't they? Rationally, she knew what they were doing was technically not a crime. Seeing as how the topiary already belonged to Percy and it was with his explicit tutelage and encouragement that she ‘pinch' it.

The way he'd sketched out the plan, his deep voice painting the movements and paths with such a dramatic buildup, Danny could see how the romance and the payoff would tempt an otherwise honest person into a life of crime.

Especially if one's partner was a silver-tongued devil.

Mentally stepping back to criticize her substitute, Danny deemed the likeness passing. And not a moment off, since the next thing she heard was a pair of male voices discussing the other gardens on the estate.

"Is there room for a shipment of statues in one of the other gardens?" Percy asked.

"There's already the Pleasure Garden, Your Grace. Decked out with more than forty pieces." Mr. Stonebrook sounded surprised. "Are you interested in collecting more?"

"Er—yes," Percy said, recovering well. "But those are all nudes, you see? What I'm planning is a celebration of the animal kingdom."

"Animals, Your Grace?"

"Of course!" Percy said. Danny heard a slight slap , imagining him clapping the gardener on the back and making the older man highly uncomfortable. "Naturally, I came to you for recommendations, Mr. Stoney. Just look at the exceptional work you've done on these topiaries. A man who could design such a magnificent bear out of nothing but wood and leaf, why, who else would I come to but you?"

"That is a cow, Your Grace."

At the outrageous claim, Danny risked the entire operation to peer over the wall and examine the topiary. She frowned at the four-footed blob and the smaller mounds atop. If that was a cow, she feared for the heifer's constitution.

"Exceptional cow," Percy went on, as if he'd meant the right animal the whole time. "I want animals of all varieties showcased, in their real sizes, but I want them to complement each other."

He directed Mr. Stonebrook's attention towards the trees, and Danny ducked back behind the wall to avoid detection.

"Wouldn't want a cricket next to an elephant, for example," Percy said.

"Indeed not, Your Grace! Why, the idea is preposterous."

Percy sounded too enthusiastic to Danny's ears to be sincere. "I knew you'd understand. Now, we must think about this carefully. Do you have any birds currently in the garden?"

"Birds? No, Your Grace."

"Not even a spotted raven?"

"Never heard of it, Your Grace."

Neither had Danny. She groaned. Poor Mr. Stonebrook. If her gut was correct, Percy was about to send the lovely old gardener on quite the merry goose chase.

"Unique creatures, the SRs. Rarely sighted this far south," Percy said. "Small heads, large wingspans. Come, I'll draw you a picture. Strangest bird you've ever seen. There must be a recording of the beast in the library here."

Danny readied, listening as the men's voices grew quieter as they moved towards the house.

"And their call!" Percy embellished loud enough for Danny to hear even beneath the water in the middle of the lake. "Think a mix between a sparrow and an ostrich. Like this..."

Danny didn't hesitate. As soon as that high-pitched whistle hit her ears, she moved. Keeping low, she beelined straight for the cow topiary. Glancing around and seeing no one, Danny placed her counterfeit in a nearby empty pot and set it beside the real one, feeling a surge of triumph taking hold.

Only for it to sink into frustrated failure.

No matter how hard she pushed or pulled, the real topiary had the weight of a grown miniature bush with a full root system, a load of dirt, and a ceramic pot to boot. The only way that topiary was getting stolen was if the thing sprouted legs to walk away on.

Danny bit her lip and racked her brain. There must have been something she could use around here. If Mr. Stonebrook, a middle-aged man, could lift this thing half a dozen times in a matter of minutes, surely, all she needed was a bit of a start?

But as Danny found neither tool nor barrel—and the shed where the main tools were kept would take far too long—her frustration mounted. Not only frustration.

A part of her also acknowledged a sliver of pride in the undertaking, pride and skill she felt in need to prove to Percy. He'd always challenged her to work through her questions and come to her own conclusions at the speed and power of her own mind.

Somehow, she didn't believe the detail of the bush's weight had slipped Percy's notice. Not an officer and an agent whose very life depended on calculating to the smallest degree. There must be a way for her to move the bush.

Think , she told herself. If pushing the pot was out of the question and dragging was beyond her capabilities, what was left?

The answer came to her like a knock to the head.

Shaking off the daze, Danny sprang into action. Using all her weight, this time instead of pulling the base, she carefully weaved her hands through the leaves and smaller branches to grasp the main system in the middle and pulled until she felt the pot tip onto its side.

Once the pot lay safely on its side and ledge, Danny had little trouble rolling the thing off the path and into the field, where no one would see the tree in the tall grass.

Hearing the sound of voices emerging from the house, Danny put shin to bush and hand to stem to get as far from the garden —and possible detection—as quick as her weary legs and waning arms would allow.

When she hit the safety of the trees, Danny tucked the pot behind a thick oak and sank to the forest floor, her muscles twitching, her breath ragged, and her skin flushed with exhilaration.

She marveled at the breeze, the mogshade, the trees themselves. She'd done it! She'd stolen a bush. Clipped and made all the more an achievement by its incredible weight and shaped like a regal cow...

Danny glanced at her trophy. All right, the bush was rather worthless and the rendering of the animal awful, but sitting here, ruining her best frock in the dirt, she felt the adventure and partnership as real as if she'd stolen the Crown Jewels.

And that was priceless to her.

Snap!

Danny's head swung around hearing twigs snap under approaching boots. She sagged against the pot when Percy walked into view, his grin dashing.

"Well done, partner." He shook his head, his admiration clear. "And that fake you put up wasn't half-bad, either."

Danny's chest swelled with the compliments, as much as possible when her entire body felt like undercooked blancmange. She slapped the side of the pot with the palm of her hand, feeling giddy now that the theft was over.

"Why that was nothing, good sir. I could have taken the lot, but I didn't wish for poor Mr. Stoney to lose his position. I hear the aristocrat who lives here is fond of his animal collections. Especially his spotted raven ."

Percy smiled as he took a seat beside her, using his half of the pot to rest his back. "You're a natural. You even figured out how to move the pot." He nudged her shoulder with his own. "Clever girl."

Clever she may have been, but sore she was now.

She grabbed her shoulder and winced. Conmen must be the most athletic people in the world. "I may have to crawl through the woods to get home."

"Growing pains of the criminal life," Percy said. "You should stick to cornering villains instead of joining their ranks."

It was her turn to smile, the only movement that didn't hurt. "That sounds highly dangerous. A lady would flirt with ruin if she listened to your advice."

She rolled her head to set him down with her fiercest imitation of Xanithippe, but the action left them facing each other, their bodies and mouths but inches apart.

Suddenly, her aches and pent-up energy transformed into a flood of awareness.

Here they were again, in a most compromising position, not a servant in sight.

Judging by the glazed look in his eyes, he felt the tension mounting between them too. His voice was rough when he said, "It's all right to admit you enjoy it."

His gravelly tone shot bolts of want to her toes. Leaning forward, she didn't know to which she referred—to the criminal behavior or him—when she confessed against his lips, "I like it."

The kiss was no more than a wing's brush of lips, but the contact felt like it carried with it an emotional pressure Danny couldn't decipher. Pulling back a breath, their gazes locked. No one had ever looked at her like him: full of hunger and intensity... and pride and respect.

A correlating feeling of connection clicked into place somewhere in the vicinity of her chest.

She reached out, her fingers whispering across his mouth, eager to grasp the feeling before it vanished. "Percy—"

"What in tarnation?!"

Danny gasped at the distant yell. She and Percy broke apart to poke their heads around the great oak in time to see Mr. Stonebrook scratching his head at the stand-in bush, his mouth working and his gaze searching the area.

"What in tarnation?" the gardener repeated. He stood back from Danny's poor excuse for a trimmed bush and peered around the pot as if the original were hidden behind.

Danny watched in rapt horror, fearing the man to stand on his head next, until the man beside her snickered.

No, it was worse than a snicker. Percy snorted.

"Oh, no." Danny arranged her face into a severe expression, holding back the beginning of her own mirth.

Percy snorted again, wiping the laughter from his eyes.

"Don't, Percy—"

He snorted a third time, followed by a whoosh of breath that sounded like a great " UHHHYUK ."

Danny lost the battle. Her laughter burst out, as sporadic and unchecked as his.

Children's laughter.

They laughed until the tears ran. They laughed until their sides pinched and their chests heaved.

When at last Danny released a final hiccup, she found herself on her back, staring up at the canopy, pressed side to side with Percy.

"I haven't laughed like that since before I was fresh out of stay bands," Danny said.

"Now, that is criminal."

She laughed again, her sore cheeks now matching the rest of her body.

She glanced at the pot resting comfortably above their heads. "Whatever shall we do with this? If we bring it back now, Mr. Stonebrook will genuinely believe he's lost his faculties."

"It doesn't matter what we do with it. Its purpose has already been served," Percy said flippantly. "No topiary has ever been so well desired."

At the word desired , Danny felt a resurgence of those troubling feelings from earlier. Lingering excitement from the theft? A delayed case of hay fever? Partial possession of a long-dead spirit reliving the thrill of a merry jaunt through the woods?

What on Earth was the matter with her?

Oblivious to her internal turmoil, Percy rolled onto his side and offered her a wide smile. "Congratulations, partner." He extended a hand across his body. "To your first successful con."

Danny slid her hand into his and prayed those new emotions swirling inside weren't the beginning of a long con she played on herself: Desiring more than the agreed-upon friendship that was quickly becoming the most rewarding relationship in her life.