Chapter 5

A s Connor sprang to his feet, Pamela took a step backward, thinking it might be wise to stay out of his reach until he'd had time to fully digest her words.

He glared at her accusingly. "So that's your game, is it, lass? You're thinkin' to set me up as an imposter so that when the truth comes out, I'll be the one rottin' away in Newgate while you and your precious sister make off with the reward." He raked a hand through his hair, dragging the windswept strands out of his face. "Why, I should have shot you when I had the chance!"

Pamela took another nervous step backward, thankful there were no firearms in the immediate vicinity. At least not genuine ones. "Now, Mr. Kincaid, there's no need for histrionics. Or gunplay. It would be a harmless-enough ruse. Why, we'd be fulfilling the dream of a dying man!"

Connor shook his head, visibly torn between disgust and admiration. "And they call me ruthless! You must have ice flowin' through your heart. If you even have one, that is."

Her conscience more stung by his words than she cared to admit, Pamela waved the letter at him. "I'll have you know that this is the same man who took another woman into his wife's bed while she was entertaining guests downstairs. The same man who vowed she would never again lay eyes on her own child if she dared to create a scandal over his affair. As far as I'm concerned, we'd be doing the scoundrel a far greater kindness than he deserves."

"What would you have done?"

"Pardon?"

"What would you have done if you'd found your husband in your bed with his mistress? Would you have taken the child and fled?"

"Probably," she replied with a sullen sniff. "After I shot the wretch through his miserable cheating heart."

Connor surprised her by bursting into laughter. She had anticipated the devastation his smile might wreak on a woman's heart, but the rich, warm timbre of his laughter proved to be even more hazardous. Especially since she suspected he wasn't a man who laughed often or with such hearty abandon.

"Bloodthirstiness becomes you, Miss Darby. It makes your cheeks pink and your eyes sparkle." Connor dragged his chair around backward and straddled it, then shoved back his sleeves to reveal well-muscled forearms dusted with hair the color of maple sugar. Pamela tried not to gawk as he folded those imposing arms over the top rung of the chair's ladder back. "Why do you need me? If your mother was a celebrated actress, you must still have friends in the theater. Why don't you just trot back to London and hire an actor for your masquerade?"

Scowling, Pamela shook her head. "Actors are a greedy and ambitious lot. You can't trust them."

"Unlike highwaymen," Connor pointed out, his voice gentle with sarcasm.

"Is there no such thing as honor among thieves?"

He snorted. "Not among any of the thieves I've met. Most of them would slit their grandmothers' throats for a jar of whisky and a used pair of boots."

"Including you?"

"I don't have a grandmother. So tell me, lass, just what do you hope to gain from this balmy scheme of yours?"

She clasped her hands beneath her breastbone and offered him a benevolent smile. "The joy of reuniting a dying father with the man he believes to be his long lost son."

Connor cocked one eyebrow, inviting her to tell him another lie.

She sighed, feeling her smile fade. His gaze was entirely too sharp. It was going to take every acting trick she'd ever learned from her mother to shield her secret from him. "Is it so unthinkable that I might just want the reward? You've seen my sister, Mr. Kincaid. I'm sure you can imagine the challenges of being responsible for such a ravishing young creature."

"She's comely enough, I suppose, if you fancy the type." His frank gaze skated lower, deliberately lingering on her generous hips and the swell of her bosom before returning to her face. "I happen to prefer a lass with a wee bit more meat on her bones."

Although Pamela knew she should probably scold him for his insolence, she felt a perverse little thrill of pleasure. Hoping to hide it, she paced a few steps toward the hearth as she spoke. "If Sophie had a father or an uncle to look after her, her beauty would be a blessing. But in our circumstances, it's nothing but a curse. I already have one married viscount desperate to seduce her. If we return to London even poorer and more helpless than when we left, I'm afraid he'll try something even more nefarious."

"Would you like me to kill him for you?"

Pamela jerked her head around to meet his steady gray gaze. She would have laughed, but she wasn't entirely sure he had made the offer in jest.

She cleared her throat. "I'm hoping that won't be necessary. With the reward I could provide a dowry for Sophie and find her a decent husband—not a nobleman of course, but some nice young man in trade. Or perhaps a second son in the militia or the clergy."

"What about you? What's to become of you once you have your sister safely tucked away in some pious vicar's bed?"

Connor's blunt question unsettled her. "I haven't really thought about it. I suppose I could purchase a small cottage with the remaining money and retire to the country or the seaside."

"To do what? Bake shortbread and collect cats?' 'Tis a bit tame for a lass like you, don't you think? Especially after a career of kidnappin' bandits and swindlin' wealthy gentlemen out of their inheritances." One corner of his mouth quirked upward in a lazy smile. "You might just decide a life of crime suits you."

She gave him an icy look.

"What are you really after, lass?" He tilted his head to the side, studying her through narrowed eyes. "You just don't strike me as the sort who would make off with what doesn't rightly belong to her."

"Why, Mr. Kincaid," she said lightly, "you of all people should understand the irresistible temptation of ill-gotten gain."

"You're forgettin' one thing, Miss Darby. A man who lies, steals and cheats for a livin' can usually tell when someone else is lyin'."

Pamela swallowed but his frank gaze made it impossible to keep choking back the truth. Lifting her chin to meet his gaze squarely, she said, "You're absolutely right. I'm not a thief by nature but by necessity. I do desperately need the means to protect my sister, but I'm also after the monster who murdered my mother."