“A wicked crime, I’m sure.”
His eyes narrowed to slits.
“By all means, then.” She rose from the chair and motioned to her person. “Strip me bare, if you must.”
Hunt coughed from behind his desk. “Miss Harwood, that’s not—”
“No, No,” Caroline interrupted the Runner. “His lordship wishes to search my person for the watch, so let him go ahead. Peel the layers of clothes from my body and search, my lord.”
She had never been so brazen in her entire life. She certainly did not miss the glint that entered the Viscount’s eyes as his gaze traveled over her body.
Rogue.
In any case, if he meant to intimidate her, she was made of firmer stuff.
Hunt rose to his feet. “No need to go to such lengths. I will send for Mrs. Appleby. She usually assists in delicate matters such as this.” He strode from the office.
Caroline arched a brow at the Viscount, whose eyes had yet to leave her. In the battle between wits and will, the Viscount would soon learn he had no way of winning against a woman with everything to lose.
***
Miss Harwood must be the most maddening woman Mason had ever laid eyes on. Even more maddening, he would call it misfortune—for he surely felt unfortunate—had he not come alive at the challenge in her gaze. Furthermore, he sensed they had already lost the battle before it had even begun. Miss Harwood was set to stroll out of Bow Street with a smirk on her face. Mason knew it as certain as he knew the sun would rise in a few hours.
On top of that, he couldn’t keep his bloody eyes off the woman. He dared not venture into the reason. For then, he would have to acknowledge the erratic beat of his heart whenever her attention fell on him—like this very moment—and he simply refused to be attracted to a thief. Not matter how alluring she may be.
How had it come to this?
“You have a brazen mouth, Miss Harwood,” Mason could not help but point out.
“I prefer the term bold,” she corrected. “It lends a more courageous air, do you not think?”
“I think,” he said slowly, “You should hand over the watch you stole from me before Mrs. Appleby arrives.”
“I cannot hand over what I do not have in my possession.”
Damn woman. “I promise nothing bad will happen to you if you do.”
She snorted in response.
“You do not believe me? I give you my word, if you hand over the watch, I shall not press charges. However, if we find the watch on you later, your fate will be in the law’s hands.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, firmly rooted in her stubborn stance.
“How old are you?” Mason asked. He sensed that there was more to her situation,to her, than met the eye. Why venture into the world of criminality? Even illegitimate, she was still the daughter of a baron. Her father could arrange an advantageous marriage for her. Yet he hadn’t. There should be no reason for her to stoop to thievery.
She cast him a suspicious glance. “Why does that matter?”
Mason shrugged. “Just curious what year a woman must reach to act as brazen as you.”
She scoffed. “Two-and-twenty, if you must know, though that is hardly the required age to actbold.”
Mason studied her thoughtfully. He hadn’t been too far off the mark. Green eyes held his gaze. Fearless. Bold. Beautiful. Not a woman who should be hidden away from the world.
Something still did not add up. No matter how he dwelled on the matter, he could not decipher Miss Harwood’s involvement.
She appeared too confident.
No anxiety as expected of a thief caught.
