A Gift for Guile (The Thief-takers) Read Online Free PDF Page A

went both ways. “I’ll have your promise first.”
    Samuel scratched his bearded chin in a thoughtful manner. “If I agree to help you with your business, then you must agree that I am responsible for that business, and your safety, for as long as you are in London.”
    “No.” Good Lord, no. She couldn’t believe he’d even suggest such a thing. Either he was jesting, he was testing her, or she had significantly overestimated his intelligence.
    “Esther—”
    “I’ll not take orders from you.” She didn’t take orders from anyone. “You may give orders, if you like, but I’ll not promise to follow them.”
    “Orders that don’t have to be followed are called suggestions,” he replied in a bland tone.
    “Then I shall agree to take your suggestions under advisement.”
    His gaze traveled over her in an assessing manner that made her pulse quicken. “I could take you home in shackles.”
    “And I could take myself back to London the next day. Or do you mean to play my gaoler for the rest of your life?”
    He didn’t reply except to produce an angry humming noise in the back of his throat, which she very much hoped was not an indication that he was giving the gaoler idea serious consideration.
    “Samuel, you cannot stop me from finishing my tasks in town. All I am asking is that you not make the process more difficult than it needs to be. For me, or my family.”
    The humming noise stopped, but his hands opened and closed into fists at his sides. Imagining themselves curved about her throat, no doubt.
    “Fine,” he bit off at last. “I’ll help you and keep your secret for the duration of your visit.”
    “Excellent.” Oh, excellent . Esther hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, but once she’d decided on making use of Samuel, she’d quickly become enthusiastic about the idea. For the last few days, she had been alone in London. Alone and, at times, a little frightened. With Samuel at her side—
    “ Provided —” Samuel added, holding up a single finger. “You are not in town for reasons that are monstrously stupid.”
    She should have known he wasn’t finished. “Define ‘monstrously stupid.’”
    He dropped his hand. “ Define it?”
    “‘Stupid’ is a relative term.”
    “No,” he replied. “It really isn’t.”
    “It certainly is. I believe my reasons are sound, but you might very well think them stupid.” She rather assumed he would, in fact. He’d already declared her an idiot for going to Spitalfields.
    “I didn’t say stupid, I said monstrously stupid. If you’ve come to town to tread the boards, I am going to wire Scotland and haul you home, promise or no promise.”
    Treading the boards wouldn’t be stupid, it would be suicide. If that was the sort of behavior that worried him, she was probably safe. “Very well. But if you break your promise over what I am about to tell you, I warn you—I will make your life a living hell.”
    “No change for me, then,” he said dryly and made a prompting motion with his hand. “Tell me why you’re in London and why you went to Spitalfields, then.”
    “I have come to town to find someone.”
    “Someone from your youth? You know better,” he chided. “Your father kept you isolated for good reason.”
    “Not someone I knew. Someone…” Oh, this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. “I was looking for… That is, I am looking for my father.”
    Sympathy and a fair amount of trepidation passed over his face. “Esther,” he said in a tone usually reserved for calming overexcited children and raving lunatics. “Your father is dead.”
    “No, not Will Walker,” she replied impatiently. “My natural father. The man my mother ran off with when Lottie was two and abandoned to return to Will Walker a few months before I was born.”
    He appeared perplexed rather than surprised. Evidently her illegitimacy was something Renderwell had seen fit to tell him. “Why?”
    “Why did my mother leave him?”