“You wanted to see how he was?”
Celine nodded. “He was visibly shaken before. He’s an old man, Pithadora.” Henry’s father wasn’t allowed to grow old. What did Pithadora know?
Pithadora snorted. “Nonsense. He’s as old as I am.”
Celine stared as Pithadora turned with a lizard like smile.
“You can’t believe that I was ever young like you can you, Celine? Once I too was a beautiful woman, swanning around the ton, lovers on every arm.”
“You!”
“Yes me. How do you think I was able to teach you so much, the art of the fan, getting a man to hang on to your every word with one flick of your hair?”
Celine sank down into the chair behind her. “How did you end up with the Melinno Society?”
Pithadora sniffed. “I was ostracized.”
“You told me that courtesans cannot be ostracized!”
“And I also told you that if the ton is against you, you cannot emerge in polite company without being shunned, no matter who you are.”
“What did you do?”
Pithadora blinked once and sniffed. “Nothing. It was a long time ago. Back to Granwich. What did he say?”
The change of direction disorientated Celine. “He…” she hesitated. “He gave me tea and sent me on my way.”
“And what about Mr. Fiske?”
“What about him?”
“What did he tell Granwich?”
Celine stiffened. “He wasn’t there.”
Pithadora picked up her quill. “Really?”
“Of course. I am no longer with him. You, you ordered me to stop seeing him, or else leave.” Celine paused. “Is that what you were told to do when you left society? Stop seeing your lover?”
Pithadora’s face blanched imperceptibly. “What lover?”
“The one that killed Lord Anglethorpe’s father. Perhaps it was a good thing that you were no longer with him—”
“He gave everything for me. Lord Anglethorpe’s father got everything he deserved.” A red flush flooded Pithadora’s face.
“He deserved—?”
“You leave now. I no longer have a use for you. I have emptied your possessions from your room. Roland has left them outside. You are not to speak to anyone. Gunvald?”
“Yes, Pithadora.” Gunvald leaned against the entrance to the library, as if he had been stood there for a while.
“Take her away.”
Celine shook her head. “Pithadora!” But the old woman wouldn’t look at her. She closed the ledger in front of her with a snap.
A strong grasp took Celine by her elbow and steadily pulled her to her feet.
“Pithadora!” Celine uttered hoarsely again. But Pithadora crossed to the open book casement and pushed the ledger in as if Celine did not exist.
“Best not make a scene, Celine.” Gunvald’s voice was flat, emotionless. His grip remained steady on her arm.
“Can’t you reason with her?” Celine tipped her head to look at Gunvald, but the Swede’s expression was as ice-like as his hair.
“Roland has left your things outside as Pithadora has said.”
Celine’s stomach clenched. “You are on her side? With Pithadora?”
Pithadora slammed the book casement shut with a bang. “He always was, my dear. Did you think that you would really find a ‘good man’ in the middle of the night, lock picking his way into someone’s house? As you tried to say about my ex-lover, once a felon, always a felon I say.” She sniggered. “Take her away, Gunvald. All the sniveling is getting on my nerves.”
“Of course, Pithadora.” Gunvald pulled Celine from the library. As Celine stumbled over her skirts, Gunvald’s grip on her arm tightened. “Come on.”
A rage filled Celine like none that she had ever known. Yet it still left her calm, although her legs felt as stiff as branches. Her ankle ached where Lady Guthrie had bitten her. She straightened her back, blocking out the pain and froze. “Kindly take your hand from my arm.”
Gunvald stared at her, and then stepped away. Celine swallowed and limped forwards in front of him. “I know my own way to the outside.”
Gunvald and Pithadora.
Gunvald followed her silently through the open workhouse church. Silver stood by the cut out door to the great church with Celine’s fur coat in her hand.
“Celine—”
“Stow it, Silver,” Gunvald said roughly, grabbing Celine’s coat from her and pushing it into Celine’s arms. “We work for Pithadora now.”
“But—”
Celine smiled weakly and bending over kissed Silver on the cheek. “I’m coming back,” she breathed, barely audibly. “I will come back.”
With a sharp push, Gunvald propelled her over the little step and onto the dark pavement beyond. A small bag lay by the steps, barely visible in the nighttime gloom. Celine stared at it before turning back. “What about my—”
The door slammed in her face.
And a snowflake landed on her wrist.
Angelique’s words came back to haunt her. She threw me out for no reason, and made sure I had nowhere to go.
Celine picked up her bag with a grunt and started to walk, her small shape just one more shadow in the night gloom.
She didn’t know how long she walked for. The snow was falling fast and thick as she arrived at the entrance to the Pink Canary Club. Perhaps it was dawn, a pink light was glowing over the tops of the tall houses that surrounded Covent Garden, but to Celine, the world had already started to turn strange colors. Her head felt faint, and her body dragged.
The front doors to the Pink Canary Club were closed. Hands chilled to the bone, Celine attempted to bang on the door.
But no one answered.
She left her bag on the doorstep and lurched down the steps to the road, turning to look back slowly at the mansion. The rooms were dark either side of the front door. The Pink Canary Club was always open. There was never any time when they closed.
“You won’t find anyone home, dearie,” one lone hardy flower seller called, the wool of their hat muffling their face. “They’ve packed up business. About a week ago.”
“Have you seen Angelique?” Celine licked her chapped lips and repeated her question, more loudly.
The flower seller shook her head. “The older one—the one with the red hair?”
Celine nodded.
“No. Not since all the girls left. They went in a big coach. Didn’t seem too happy if you ask me. Didn’t see her with them though.”
“Thank you.”
The flower seller didn’t answer as he stopped to talk to a customer.
Celine stared up at the building, at the snow that was starting to gather on its lintels, and shivered. It was lighter now, the sun was coming up, but it wasn’t a warming sun. Celine pulled her head back down into her fur coat, but still the cold seeped in.
None of it made sense. It was as if in one short period, time had compressed like a concertina. From the moment Celine had made the decision to rescue Edward, she had had no control on the events that had followed.
A wet drop of snow melted on her hair and fell through to her scalp sending another dart of coldness down her spine. She had no hat, and from the weight of her bag, no belongings.
She hammered futilely on the door of the Pink Canary Club again. With a shuddering breath she pushed her hands into her skirts and brought out the lock picks that she had never returned to Gunvald. But before she could insert them in the door, Angelique’s form appeared behind the glass of the large door.
“You are not coming in,” she said firmly. “And if you came in, Celine, I would only push you out again. I’ve been given my orders. If you approach me again, I am to turn you away.”
Celine gaped. “But Angelique, she’s thrown me out, she’s thrown me out as she did yourself. I need some sleep and then, then we should work together—”
Angelique shook her head. “No. The
y are too strong, too many. I tried and I lost, and I won’t lose again. Better to be part of the winning team, than losing personally all the time.”
Celine could only stare. “Is that how you see it? What happened to you?”
“He, they happened to me, Pithadora, Mr. Khaffar…”
“At least tell me why Pithadora threw you out. Before you leave me to freeze because you are too scared to help me.” Celine bit back the tears of tiredness and frustration. Not even Angelique could help her.
“That note you brought me. The one about the Major Coxon-Williams.”
“Yes.”
“I stole it from a young man.”
“A mark?”
Angelique shook her head. “A young man who I met in the Nag’s Head.” She looked pleadingly at Celine. “You’ve seen what this life does to us. I had to get out, choose my own…passions, not have Pithadora pick every single man,” she finished bitterly.
Celine nodded. Knowing one’s own mind. It seemed that once Pithadora sensed she was losing control of her charges, she cut them loose. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do, quite.” Angelique’s voice shook. “You see, the man, he looked like you. Uncannily like you. A beautiful man that attracted all the women in the pub. And he chose me to sit down next to. To talk to. I thought I was going to be so lucky.” She drew a deep breath. “But he bought me a drink, and just talked to me. Was kind to me, just like you always were.” Her voice rose anguished. “And I stole from him.”
“But why did Pithadora throw you out?”
“Because I wouldn’t tell her where I had met him, or how I had escaped the society without her notice. Because I refused to describe what he looked like. And so, ever since, in a fit of pique she has kept me here. Here where I never choose the men I want, nor the life that I want to lead.” Angelique looked pityingly through the door. “Run whilst you can, Celine, get away from her, before she too has more control over you than she ever did before.” She looked away into the center of the house. “I must go.” And with a swish of skirts she was gone.
Celine collapsed against the sheltered wall of the portico, and sank to the floor. Away from Pithadora, stay on the winning side. Where could she go? She circled the question as her eyes closed. She could not fight back the sleep any longer. It was just too tempting to rest a while.
Celine opened her eyes as the slush on the floor sunk through her clothing. The ice-like stabbing against the throbbing pain in her leg woke her. The sun was now fully out, shining on the few people that had ventured onto the slippery roads. She couldn’t stay in the doorway, she would freeze to death.
There was only one place where she could go. Only one place where her heart told her she should go.
“Celine!” Alasdair’s face was a picture.
Celine leant against the slightly open front door and breathed heavily. The snow had become deeper as she had waded through Fitzrovia and onwards toward Islington. She tried to force a smile, but fatigue threatened to overwhelm her.
“Alasdair. Just the man I wanted to see,” she gasped.
Alasdair’s face gained the hunted look that all men gain when cornered by a rampaging she lion. “I am flattered?”
“I wondered if Edward,” she corrected herself, “Mr. Fiske, might be in residence?”
“Not yet, he is just coming back from—”
“From overseeing some of Mr. Khaffar’s business.” The deep voice behind Celine caused her knees to buckle.
“Edward!”
His curse was audible behind her as Celine started to slide down the front door. “I’m terribly sorry,” she murmured. “I can’t seem to control my legs.”
Strong hands caught her at the waist, and a head pressed hard against her neck. “You, madam, are nothing but trouble.”
Celine giggled. “I know.”
Alasdair stood back as Edward supported her in through the door. The heat struck her like a wall, causing her to gasp. Edward’s arms held her tighter.
“Why are you here?” Edward whispered in her ear. “What do you know?”
Celine shook her head. That was precisely the problem. She didn’t know anything.
Edward’s breath was hot against her neck. “It can’t be coincidence that you are here again not twenty hours after I’ve been to see Mr. Khaffar’s armory.”
“What’s an armory?” Celine slurred, the effort to get her words out was becoming harder.
“You don’t need to play the innocent with me.” His voice was harsh, strong and deep. “Too much is happening too fast.”
Celine tried to nod vigorously, but her head only ended up lolling on one side. “My leg.”
“I think she has walked quite some way, my lord.” Alasdair’s voice floated over her head.
Celine giggled. Edward did act like a high and mighty accountant now and again.
“I don’t know, Alasdair. This could be yet another trick that she’s using to inveigle herself into a position of confidence.” Edward drew away from her.
Celine smiled and leaned over. “I’d inveigle myself anywhere with you ’ward.”
His sigh tickled her ear. “Perhaps she’s been drinking.”
Alasdair grimaced. “Couldn’t smell any alcohol, sir.”
“Want sleep. Tried to see Angelique but she wouldn’t see me. All girls left the club.” Even to Celine’s ears she sounded drunk. “My leg.”
“She keeps mentioning her legs, sir.” Alasdair’s figure wobbled in front of Celine’s eyes as he bent over and picked up her bag from the floor.
“If she has walked all the way from Covent Garden she must be tired.” Edward drew a hand across his face.
Celine giggled as Alasdair wobbled to a standing position again. He looked worried. “Bloody hell. She’s brought her gun with her.”
Celine struggled upright to see Alasdair fishing around in her bag. “Hey thatsh mine!”
“Is it Big Bess or Silent Sally?” Edward’s voice was patient.
“It’s small, sir, deadly looking thing.”
“That’ll be Silent Sally then, Alasdair. Celine is quite a shot with it.”
“As good as you?” Alasdair looked down at the gun.
“Better.”
Celine nodded up and down. Of course she was better than Edward.
“Good grief.” Alasdair packed the gun back in the bag again.
“She nearly shot off one of Mr. Khaffar’s fingers,” Edward said conversationally.
“Hello?” Celine closed her eyes. It was as if she wasn’t there. She waved her fingers in front of her and screamed as her ankle began to burn. “My leg!”
CHAPTER 20
Edward gazed down at where Celine scrabbled at her skirts. He’d ached to see what was beneath them, in his dreams, and every time he was near her. His arms tightened around Celine in frustration. He was thwarted at every angle. That morning he had been out to try and see the last of Mr. Khaffar’s businesses, the laundry. But they too had refused to let him in.
“Edward, I can’t feel my ankle.” Celine’s voice was weaker, breathless.
“Better lay her down, my lord, she doesn’t look too good.” Alasdair put Celine’s bag down on the floor and pointed to Celine’s sagging body.
“What? Oh! Yes.” Edward pulled Celine towards him and picked her up. She was lighter than a feather.
Alasdair ran after him as he mounted the stairs. “Where are you taking her?”
“To my room. There is nowhere we can lay her down here, Alasdair. Bring her bag.” As carefully as he could Edward climbed the narrow stairs to the first floor, twisting to avoid banging Celine’s slender legs against the wall. Her hair draped across his arm, falling in sweeping tresses. Her eyes fluttered open and closed.
Kicking open his bedroom door, he sat her on the end of the bed. “Alasdair, hold her shoulders whilst I pull off her coat.”
Alasdair dropped Celine’s bag to the groun
d and hurried forward as Celine began to tilt sideways. Catching her, he pushed her upright as Edward unwound the fur coat that covered most of Celine’s body.
He drew in a breath as the coat revealed her dress. It was obviously cut for a larger woman. Either Celine had lost weight or the dress had not been made for her. He glanced at her face. Perhaps it was a combination of both, hollows showed in her cheeks.
Carefully he drew up the hem of her dress to expose her ankle.
“By god, what a mess!” Alasdair exclaimed.
Edward nodded, stunned. The area where Celine’s boot rested against her leg was a mass of dried and encrusted blood. As he pulled the boot away, fresh blood rose up against the leather.
“I’ve only seen this once before,” he muttered, pulling gently at the shoe. “When that half-mad badger bit me.”
“The one that you were trying to train to be a pet?” Alasdair drew back the sheets to Edward’s bed.
Edward nodded. “Robert wasn’t very pleased with me. Would you look at that?”
Alasdair leaned closer. “Dammit all, she’s been bitten too!”
“That’s not an animal bite though, Alasdair.” Edward ran a hand through his hair. “That’s a human bite. Though the human in question was more animal than person at the time.”
Alasdair took a step away from the bed. “The last time I read about an animal biting someone it resulted in hydrophobia.”
“Rabies?”
Alasdair nodded. “Humans can pass on rabies too.”
Both of the men looked at the streaming leg wound. “It turns people mad,” Alasdair whispered.
Edward blinked. “No harm in that.”
Alasdair pulled his arms around him. “There are many different kinds of madness, my lord.”
Edward took a deep breath. “I think I’ll call a doctor anyway.”
The doctor finished bandaging the wound and looked up at Edward with a serious expression. “This is like no animal bite I’ve ever seen.”
Edward smiled weakly. “It was a large dog.”
The doctor did not smile back. “With a strangely shaped jaw.”
“Perhaps.”
“You’ll have to wait and see if she develops any symptoms of rabies. Has she refused any water or refused to go near the bath?”
Maddening Minx Page 15