Jeremy could be wrong in this case. There was that slim possibility. And yet he was rarely wrong where women were concerned.

But there was no need to expose her. Whatever reason she had for hiding her gender was her business. He might be curious, but he'd learned long ago that patience reaped the best rewards. And besides, they only needed one thing from her—her talent.

"What do they call you, youngun?" Jeremy asked.

"None o' yer bleedin business."

"I don't think he's figured out yet that we're going to do him a good turn," Percy remarked.

"Ye set a trap—"

"No, no, think of it as an opportunity for employment," Percy corrected.

"A trap," their thief insisted. "And I don't need wotever it is yer offering."

Jeremy raised a black brow. "You aren't even a little curious?"

"No," said the thief most stubbornly.

"Too bad. The nice thing about traps is—you don't get out of them unless you get let out. Do we look like we're letting you out of this one?"

"Ye look like ye've bleedin' well lost yer minds. Ye don't think I'm alone, d'ye? They'll be coming for me if I don't return when I'm expected to."

"They?"

The question just got Jeremy another glower. He shrugged, unperturbed. He wouldn't doubt she ran with a pack of thieves, the very bunch that had been systematically sending their numbers in, one at a time, to rob the unsuspecting gentry who had blundered into their territory. But he doubted they'd come looking for her. They'd be more interested in obtaining the expected fat purse first, before they thought of any rescuing. If anything, they'd assume this attempt had failed, that she'd been apprehended, knocked out or killed, and would be sending in the next thief soon.

Which meant they should wrap this up and be on their way, now that they had their quarry in hand, so Jeremy said congenially, "Sit down, youngun, and I'll explain what you've volunteered for."

"I didn't vol—"

"But you did," he cut in. "When you came through diat door, you most surely did volunteer."

"Wrong room," their thief tried to assert. "Ye've never walked into the wrong room by mistake?"

"Assuredly, though usually with my shoes on," Jeremy said dryly.

She blushed again and swore a blue streak.

Jeremy yawned. Much as he'd enjoyed the cat-and-mouse bantering, he didn't want this taking all night. And they still had a good distance to travel to reach Heddings's house in the country.

He injected a note of sternness in his tone when he ordered, "Sit down, or I will physically put you in that chair—"

Jeremy didn't have to finish. She ran to the chair, practically dove into it. She definitely didn't want to risk his touching her. He forced back another smile as he moved away from the door to stand in front of her.

Percy, amazingly, injected a bit of logic into the proceedings. "I say, we could explain this on the way, couldn't we? We've got our man. Is there any reason to remain in these God-awful accommodations a moment longer?"

"Quite right. Find me something for binding."

"Eh?"

"To tie him up with. Or haven't you noticed that our thief isn't being the least bit cooperative—yet?"

At which point their thief desperately bolted for the door.

Jeremy had known it was coming, one more effort to escape them before it was too late. He'd seen it in her eyes just before she flew past him. He was at the door before she could get it open, though, and rather than just lean his weight against it to keep her inside, he decided to find out conclusively whether he was right about her sex and put his arms around her instead. He'd been right. Those were definitely female breasts under his forearms, packed down flatly, but unmistakable to his touch.

She didn't just stand still there and let him discover that fact. She turned around, and Good God, that was even better, since he wasn't letting go of her yet. The very last thing he'd expected to find that night was a very pretty wench wiggling about in his arms. Now that he was positive she was a wench, he was quite enjoying himself.

"I suppose I should check you for weapons," Jeremy said, his voice lowered to a husky note. "Yes, indeed, I really should."

"I ain't got—" she started to claim, but ended on a gasp as his hands slid over her derriere and stayed there.

Rather than pat her pockets as his suggestion had implied, he gave each rounded cheek a gende squeeze. Supple, soft she was, and suddenly he felt an urge to do more than just feel her widi his hands; he wanted to press her loins firmly to his, pull down those ridiculous trousers she was wearing, run his fingers over her bare skin and enter her wet warmth. He couldn't have been in a better position to do so, his hands cupping her luscious bottom. But he was already rising to the occasion, as it were, and didn't want her to know the effect she was having on him.

"Will these do?" Percy asked, holding up ripped-up strips of the bed sheet and reminding Jeremy that he wasn't alone with the girl.

With a sigh, Jeremy got back to the matter at hand and toted their thief back to the chair and shoved her into it. He leaned over her, his hands on the arms of the chair, and whispered, "Stay there, unless you like having my hands all over you."