by Jane Ashford
The outside space was chilly and empty at the beginning of the day. The spring sun had not risen high enough to warm it. The earl went over to the far side, well out of earshot of the entrance into the workshop. Teresa was on the verge of clutching the lapels of his so very fashionable coat and shaking him until he heard her when he said, “I wanted to inform…to tell you that you need not worry about the Conde de la Cerda any longer.”
“What?” Teresa’s mind was full of her own news, and the need to plan. For a moment, she simply stared at him.
“He has been…removed from the country.”
She shook her head, as if this would restart the gears in her brain.
“He was…put on a ship to the Indies. He will have no means to return.”
Was it her mind or her hearing that had gone astray? She looked at Tom. He grinned as if he was proud of himself.
“I realize this is a bit of a surprise,” the earl continued.
“Do you think so?”
“A shock,” he amended. “You should sit down.” He moved as if to help her into one of the courtyard chairs.
Teresa stepped away from him. She did not wish to sit. “Put on a ship. And you know this. Did you do it?”
He nodded. So did Tom. Oh so very proud, this smug pair. “For you,” added Lord Macklin.
“For me. Without saying a word? For example, asking me if I wished it?”
“I wanted to save you…”
“Save?” She was shaken by a storm of anger. That word had been something of a refrain for her former “protector.” Along with gratitude, which he thought she should continually feel for his magnanimity in giving her refuge.
“To prevent trouble from coming to you,” replied Lord Macklin.
“Because I am incapable of solving my own problems.”
“No.”
“Like a child, really. With no power of rational judgment.” The grandee had said that about her too. Time and again.
“Not at all. You are putting words in my mouth.” The earl was beginning to sound annoyed. Tom looked uneasy.
Teresa felt a savage satisfaction at that. “You throw a man onto a ship.”
“It was a better plan than shooting the fellow,” the earl interrupted. “That sort of thing gets you sent to the gallows.”
“Shooting? You were going to shoot him?”
“Not I!”
“Who then? Tom?”
The latter made warding-off gestures.
“Rigby told us you asked him to get you a pistol,” said the earl sternly.
“Is no man on Earth to be trusted to keep his mouth shut?” Teresa exclaimed.
“He simply mentioned it when we were…”
“Agreeing with each other what was to be done! Of course he did. All the men planning, in their gracious arrogance, how to save me.” When Teresa saw Tom flinch, she realized that she’d shouted. She clenched her teeth and paced across the courtyard and back, regaining control of her temper. “I was not going to shoot him,” she said more quietly. “I am not a fool. I thought it might be necessary to threaten him.” Or satisfying, at the least.
“That would not have gone well,” Lord Macklin replied. “When you start waving pistols about, someone usually is shot.”
“I was not going to ‘wave’ it about. And I am quite able to use a pistol.” She wished she had her pistol now. She would show him she could hit a pip in a playing card from ten paces.
“Even the most skilled…”
“Oh, do be quiet.”
He looked startled.
As her emotions caught up with events, Teresa silently admitted it was a relief to know that Alessandro Peron was far away. She wasn’t yet ready to say that to the earl, however. “Is this why you acted so strangely yesterday?” She turned on Tom. “Is this where you have been? Everyone at the theater was wondering.” The lad backed up a step.
“We had him tied up in the coach,” said Lord Macklin. “And I didn’t want…”
“In your carriage? In a public street? Right there where I was standing!”
“Yes. And I didn’t want my coachman to find out. The fewer people who know anything about this, the better.”
“As you have learned from your extensive experience of spiriting people out of the country against their will.”
“More a matter of common sense.”
She gazed up at him. Something was clogging her throat. Amazement? Laughter? “Are you really so calm about this deed?”
“I spring from a long line of ruthless marauders, you know. Came over with William the Conqueror to grab whatever they could, and continued to do so for quite some time.”
“Ruthless.” Teresa no longer felt like laughing.
“A joke. Actually I found it…unsettling.” The earl looked at her. “I was promised the conde would not be injured on the voyage. And I believed the man who gave his word on that.” He held her gaze. “There are many…opportunities for a clever man in the Indies. I think this will occupy the conde for quite a time.”
He was probably right. Alessandro Peron would find it easier to impersonate a grandee there than in London. He would most likely prosper and remain. Her relief became a more settled thing.
“So that he won’t come back,” Lord Macklin added, as if she might not have understood.
“Yes, I see that.” Only then did Teresa realize that the earl’s absence and his behavior yesterday had been due to this—admittedly unrequested—service he had done her. He had not been avoiding her because of her history. In fact, he had been moved to help. But where did this leave them? “So,” she said.
“So,” he said at the same moment.
Teresa felt as if her confidences came to hover in the space between them. Things were not the same.
“That’s that then,” the earl said.
Tom nodded.
What was what?
Lord Macklin cleared his throat. “Did you say there was something you wished to tell us?”
“Ah, we are going to be English,” Teresa said.
“Eh?”
What else could he be, after all? Any more than she could help what life had made of her? He had been raised to be estoico. And did she not love him for what he was—upright, steadfast, kind? And so they would not speak of what lay between them. Not now, at any rate. Later, then they would see. “I believe I know where the missing dancers have been taken,” she said.
This drew a gratifying reaction from both her companions, which only grew as she told them her tale.
“You could find this place again?” Lord Macklin asked when she was done.
“Of course.”
“We gotta go after them,” said Tom, looking as if he was ready to race away immediately.
The earl nodded. “Indeed. We must make a plan to get in and discover what is inside that house.”
“We,” repeated Teresa with emphasis.
“The three of us and others,” Lord Macklin answered. “We will require help and unfortunately some little time.”
Teresa was as eager as Tom to move. She hated thinking of what might be happening to the dancers. But she knew he was right.
“We should get hold of that dismal scut who took Jeanne there,” said Tom.
“Yes.” The earl looked grim. “I will undertake that task. What is his name?”
“He didn’t give it at the theater,” Teresa replied. “He told Jeanne just to call him John.”
“Not his name then,” said Tom.
“No.” The earl’s expression didn’t bode well for the man. “But he must have been there before. Perhaps he let something drop.”
“I will ask the other dancers and send word to you,” said Teresa. Now that she had a specific target, she was certain she could learn more.
“I’ll scout out that
house in the country,” added Tom. “See what’s what.”
“You shouldn’t go there alone. It is too dangerous.” Teresa would not see Tom hurt as well.
“I know how to do it,” the lad replied.
“He does, actually,” said Lord Macklin before Teresa could argue. “He’s proved that before.”
“I kin be a right sneak,” said Tom with a shadow of his old grin. “And I’m good at not being noticed.”
“You will be careful,” replied Teresa. It was not a question.
Tom put his hand on his heart and bowed.
“I will speak to Mr. Rigby,” she went on. When the others looked inquiring, she added, “The man at the gate looked like someone he might know.”
“Good thought,” said Tom.
All this was agreed. And then it was time for the earl to go. He took his leave with his customary courtesy and no sign of any change in his opinion of her.
“Thank you,” said Teresa. She offered her hand.
He brought it to his lips, and the look he gave her then shook her to the depths of her being.
Eleven
Arthur walked with Tom up to the door of Señora Alvarez’s house, all his senses sharp with anticipation. It had been only two days since he’d seen her, but it seemed much longer. This was what he’d come to; the hours felt empty if she was not near. And now he would see her home, the place she had made for herself. It felt like a privilege.
They knocked and were admitted by their hostess. As he took off his hat and gloves, Arthur absorbed the feel of the single large room. Clearly there had not been much money to spend on it, but the place had a simple elegance that did not surprise him in the least.
“I have sent my maid to visit her family,” said the señora. “I did not wish her to be involved.”
“Eliza’d probably like to be,” replied Tom. “She took a real pleasure in cozening Dilch.”
“She did, but this matter is more serious, and she is a young woman. Like those who were taken.”
“Right. Probably for the best, because there’s something going on in that house you found that they don’t want nobody to see.”
Señora Alvarez led them to seats. “Tell us,” she said.
“I found the place just where you said,” Tom continued with a nod to her. “And I went sneaking around the walls in the dark.” He grimaced. “They’re closed up tight as a drum. Not so high you can’t climb ’em, mind. But whoever lives there has dogs. Meanest looking dogs I’ve ever seen. They were onto me soon as I put a leg over the top of that wall. I had to jump and run.”
“You promised to be careful!” exclaimed the señora.
“I was. Nobody saw me.”
“They might have chased after you. You can’t outrun dogs.”
Tom shook his head. “They stay behind the walls. I asked at the nearest villages the next day. Just like I was wanting work, you know. Offering to lend a hand with deliveries and such, so’s I could get a look inside that way. But the grocer told me they unload everything at the back gate and carry it onward theirselves. It’s made the neighborhood right curious about ’em.”
“So it’s not going to be easy to get in,” said Arthur.
“We have to find a way past the guards and the dogs,” Tom replied.
“Mr. Rigby made some inquiries,” said Señora Alvarez. “He has heard of men, from among the sort of people he knows, hired for a job in the country. Men with few scruples, he said.”
“Rigby said ‘scruples’?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrows.
It didn’t sound like the pub keeper, Arthur thought.
“Well, no,” said their hostess with a slight smile. “But his meaning was clear.”
“Not men you want to cross,” said Tom.
She nodded. “And according to what Mr. Rigby heard, the pay is very good.”
“Some’ll do just about anything for money. Whatever they’re ordered.”
“Those who care only for money can be…repurchased,” Arthur pointed out.
“That’s so.” Tom looked more cheerful.
“I have put a name to the man you followed,” said Arthur to Señora Alvarez. “The clues you gathered from the other dancers and the redoubled efforts of Tom’s friends led me to a young sprig called Lord Simon Farange.”
“Bella sneaked a look at him after you sent me word,” Tom put in. “He’s the one took Jeanne out driving.”
Arthur nodded; he had already heard this. “He is the third son of the Duke of Yarbridge,” he continued. “I am acquainted with his father. A harsh man. Perhaps because the family is in decline. They have lost most of their lands to gambling and poor management. Lord Simon is not prominent in society. He receives few invitations because his behavior cannot be…relied upon.”
“And because he doesn’t have a fortune to make all smooth,” said Señora Alvarez.
“Indeed,” Arthur acknowledged. “He is renowned for his ill temper and dissipation. Many wonder how he can afford his current indulgences. It is assumed that he is heavily in debt.”
“Ripe for mischief then,” said Tom.
“In many different ways.” Arthur pressed his lips together in distaste. “I tracked him down at a gaming hell last night. He was well into his cups and quite surprised to be addressed by me. I doubt he will remember much of our conversation, which I found most unpleasant.”
“Did you ask him about that house?” Tom wondered.
“I couldn’t trust he was that drunk,” Arthur replied. “Our exchange was more general, an effort to feel him out. I judge Lord Simon to be utterly self-centered. He cares nothing for others, and he treats those below him on the social scale as scarcely human. Opera dancers are no more than playthings for men like him. He feels that he has the right to do whatever he pleases with them or indeed anyone he can gain power over.”
“I am familiar with the type,” the señora said.
Arthur could hear the disgust in her voice. “Fortunately, I did not find him very intelligent,” he added.
Tom gave a snort of laughter.
“I don’t think he will be any use to us,” Arthur went on. “Any overtures from me would bewilder him and rouse suspicions even in his thick head. I am of his father’s generation, and they are bitterly at odds.”
“Don’t sound like he would think much of me neither,” said Tom.
“He has all a weak man’s contempt for the ‘lower orders.’”
“The venomed varlet,” said the lad. He frowned. “If one of the other opera dancers was willing to make up to him…”
“No!” Señora Alvarez sounded adamant. “Enough of them have suffered already. We will not bring any more into this.”
Arthur understood her reluctance.
Tom nodded. “No, you’re right. That ain’t fair. Can’t we just gather a gang and storm that place? My friends would come along. Mr. Rigby too, mebbe. And he’d know others. Good fighters.”
Teresa shook her head. She’d hinted at something like this when she talked to the pub keeper. “He won’t. Join in or try to recruit anyone to do so. He is very wary of breaking the law.”
“I suppose he has reason,” said Lord Macklin. “I couldn’t ask my servants or employees to take part in that sort of direct assault either. People might be hurt. And attacking a private residence without any proof of crimes would land us all in trouble.”
“But if we was to find the crimes when we got inside…” Tom began.
“Against opera dancers,” said Teresa. Anger and despair coursed through her. “No one cares about them, as this Lord Simon person showed. Owners of great walled estates bribe and persuade their way around the law when no one else of their class is involved.”
Silence greeted her outburst. Tom started to speak, and then did not.
A thought came to Teresa. It filled her wi
th fear so strong that her hands began to shake. Nonetheless, she voiced it. “A woman might be able to get inside.”
“No,” said Lord Macklin.
“They take women there,” she continued.
“No,” said Lord Macklin again.
“And once in, she could find a way to admit others.”
“Absolutely not,” said the earl. “I forbid it!” He looked as if he knew he couldn’t, really, and that the knowledge enraged him.
“There’s them dogs,” said Tom.
“They might be given sleeping powders,” Teresa went on, speaking quickly before she could think too much. “And perhaps some of the people could be also.”
“How, precisely, would you go about giving a fierce guard dog a sleeping powder?” asked Lord Macklin in a harsh, clipped tone.
“Put it in some meat?”
“Because you would be moving freely around this sinister place, and no one would notice you interfering with the creatures’ food?”
Teresa understood that his sarcasm came from concern, but it was difficult to hear nonetheless.
“The idea is ridiculous,” he added. “Impossible.”
It was much worse than that. He could not know how it terrified her—the idea of going back into captivity.
Or perhaps he did. His eyes were full of sympathy. “You cannot do this,” he said.
She looked away from that compassionate gaze before it could overset her. “What do you propose then? That we simply let this—whatever it is—go on?”
“Now that we have identified Lord Simon, we can warn the dancers to have nothing to do with him.”
“And the ones who are already gone?” Teresa felt a moment of hope. Lord Macklin sounded so authoritative. Might he have some other solution? But the earl said nothing. “We leave them to their fate?”
“We don’t know what they are…” But he couldn’t complete the sentence. They all knew the four dancers had not been spirited away for benign purposes.
All her history rose up and beat at her. She had been oppressed. No one had cared, still less tried to help her. She could not turn away, no matter how strong the fear. Her hands were shaking harder than ever. “I will not abandon them.”