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“I thought that must be it.”
Fletch knew it most definitely wasn’t the channel crossing, and perhaps he should have reassured her in a more loving and affectionate manner, but right now, he needed Claire to fall into line and to walk the straight and narrow. If that meant he kept her bound to their bed, he was all right with that.
Because they could most definitely make a go ofthis.
CHAPTER7
FLETCH
Although many believed you could sail across the English Channel and up the Thames into London itself, it wasn’t true. Most boats departing from Calais and headed toward London sailed to Dover. Fletch had sailed instead to Folkestone. Both were in the county of Kent, but Folkestone, while larger, was a less busy port. The County of Kent was contiguous to the County of Greater London.
“Folkestone?” Claire asked as they pulled into the harbor and found a place to tie up.
The couples took separate vehicles—she and Fletch in an SUV and Mia and Carter in a nondescript sedan.
“Yes. I find it easier to get in and out of here as opposed to Dover,” he said, directing the car onto the highway.
“We can stay at my place.”
Fletch laughed. “The hell we can. If anyone is looking for you, that’s the first place they’ll look. I’d be willing to bet there are people keeping an eye on your place. Carter swept your place for bugs and removed three—two seemed to be from the same source and then an odd one that looked completely different and rather amateurish.”
“Are we going to try and go to your place?”
“No. That and Mia’s place in Chelsea are the next most obvious places to look. I thought about a hotel, but I think the best place for us to hole up is the cottage your grandfather left you.”
“Coach House Cottage? I haven’t been there in over a year. I used to try to go every couple of months, but then I got so busy…”
“Yes, juggling careers as a renowned art restoration expert and a master jewel thief must have been time consuming.”
“Not to make too fine a point about it, but yes, it was.”
“And yet, you have a cleaning lady go every other week on Thursdays to clean. She seems to do an excellent job and divides her time between the house itself and the garden.”
“Poppi always loved to keep a beautiful garden.”
Fletch smiled. “And she has done him proud.”
“Wait, how do you know so much about this place?”
“When we were doing a deep dive on you, we discovered it. Mia managed to muddle the records quite nicely, but Carter was convinced you had another place. It took him some time, but he found it. If someone was determined to track you down, they might find it, but as far as we can tell, we’ve been the only ones keeping an eye on things.”
“It’s not huge but it can accommodate a nice size group for a weekend. In addition to the cottage, we have permission to use the grounds, as well, for hiking, hunting, or fishing. It’s fairly remote, although it does sit on Sir Godfrey’s estate, Robbins’ Roost.”
“I figured we’d house the team upstairs. That way someone will always be there, and we can rotate the patrols out of the cottage. Carter and I will be with you and Mia most of the time and when we can’t be, there will be people in place to keep you safe. It’s a good size, easy to defend, and pretty much off the grid. Will it bother you to be there?”
Claire shook her head. “No. Not really. I suppose it was kind of Sir Godfrey to give it to my granda and then it came to me, but it isn’t where I grew up.” She laughed sadly. “The funny thing is that it’s known as Coach House Cottage, and there isn’t a stable or small cottage in sight. It’s also separate from most of the rest of the buildings on the estate and has a separate entrance from the road into the village. I actually grew up in the coach house that was between the stables and the garage.”
“Did your grandfather teach you to ride?” She nodded. “And steal?”
She laughed. “He not only taught me to ride, he helped me refine my talents in that area. I’m good, but he was better.”
Fletch shook his head. “I know I’m going to regret saying this, but I’ve been looking at the thefts you’ve done and the ones that he did. His were much more in the face of whomever he was stealing from. I think you’re more stylish. There’s a flair to the way you steal things, and I think you’re more focused on restoring those pieces to the victims’ families.”
“Poppi cared about the victims…”
“I’m not saying he didn’t, but he was more intent on the theft itself—retrieving it from those to whom it didn’t belong. You seem far more intent on the restoration side. Don’t get me wrong; the result is the same, but yours seems to be a more noble calling.”
“Poppi didn’t keep any of the money for himself. Sometimes people paid him a finder’s fee…”
