Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero

by Cari Hislop

  “I think I know my brother better than you Mr Neilson.”

  “If you say so Mr Smirke.” Robert Neilson felt jealousy suck at his marrow. How could Smirke be so damned lucky as to survive Mulgrave’s blade and find love? It was a travesty of justice. It was a miracle of biblical proportions. Robert himself had never experienced the elusive emotion called love and now he had to witness Smirke’s success? It was degrading. “Thank you for receiving me Agnes, but I believe I must depart before I forget I’m a gentleman. Do let me know when you need a partner to practice fisticuffs Mr Smirke. I’d be happy to go a few rounds.”

  “You’re too kind Mr Neilson. I don’t usually pummel men for pleasure, but I believe I could make an exception in your case.” Neilson stood and gave a formal bow, glanced at the couple on the chaise longue and departed with his habitual calm smile barely in place, unaware that his purse, seventeenth century pocket watch and good luck charm were no longer in his possession.

  “Is Papa going to pummel Mr Neilson?”

  “May we watch Mamma?”

  “Ladies do not watch men pummel each other.”

  “Cousin Robert doesn’t like us…sniff.”

  “He said we were horrid Smirkes.”

  “I hope Papa blackens his eyes!”

  “Ladies don’t listen to men mutter under their breath. Eat your bread and butter and don’t wipe your fingers on the sofa.”

  Agnes felt tingles over scalp as James whispered in her ear, “It’s been ages since I introduced you as my best friend, Eggs. I miss our secret adventures, seeing your legs in breeches. I’m sure I could find some clothes at the pawnshop you could wear. Come and shout curses at your cousin; it’ll be great fun. I’m going to break his nose for calling our angels horrid.”

  “Having children enlarged my hips and other parts of my anatomy. I’d be found out within minutes. Ask your brother if he’s still hungry.”

  “Half the men at my club look like they’re with child. I’ll get my way. I know you can’t resist a challenge.”

  “Wicked man, ask your brother if he wants some cake.”

  “John, stop kissing Joan and eat a piece of cake. You don’t want to die of starvation before you can wed the girl.”

  “Huh?” John jerked upright.

  “Stop kissing Joan’s ear and eat a piece of cake. Is that Peter’s carriage?”

  “I wasn’t kissing her ear. I was trying to have a private conversation.”

  “Lying is a sin. John? Where are you taking Joan? She hasn’t eaten…” The door slammed shut imprinting John’s irritation on the room. “New love,” James crossed his legs and leaned back towards his wife, “I’ll never forget the day you finally admitted you loved me. I thought I’d faint from the bliss when you finally let me kiss you…”

  “Eat your cake before your nephews come in and lick your plate clean.” James ignored the crisp words and nibbled his wife’s willing ear until a knock on the door prohibited his wandering lips.”

  ***

  The door to James’s study had barely clicked shut and John forgot his cold feet and aching rump as his starving lips tried to express the strange pleasant feelings caused by the woman in his arms. Neither heard the soft knock on the door before it was inched open. “Jean Sébastien; stop kissing Joan for a moment I need to give you something. Jean!”

  John craned his neck to glare at his mother, “Don’t you think you’ve caused me enough grief today? Instead of being half way to London I’ve been holed up in Bath like some sickly debutante.”

  “You’ll be glad you stayed when you see what we bought you.”

  “It can’t possibly make up for a whole lost day of travel.”

  “You may change your mind when you get your wedding present tomorrow morning. I think around ten would be an excellent time.”

  “We’re leaving first light; give it to me now or never.”

  “Very well, you can have it now. Perhaps you’ll think more kindly of your officious Mamma.” Lady Jemima opened her reticule and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “It’s wrinkled, but that is of no importance.” She held it out and smiled at her sneering child. “You’ll love it.”

  “You’re giving me a blasted wrinkled piece of paper?”

  “Open le papier Jean Sébastien or you won’t know where to go tomorrow morning.”

  “I hate treasure hunts. You know I can never find what I’m supposed to be looking for. My rump is two stiff aches, my chest aches, my head aches, my bladder aches, my shoulder aches and my feet are carved from ice. Just tell me where it is before I die of irritation.”

  “Read le papier.” John grabbed the paper and snatched a quick glance at Joan. She was smiling at his mother. John kindly exhaled a desire to shove his mother out of the room and return to kissing the woman at his side. Another long sigh accompanied the soft rustling of paper.

  “Oh Mamma…” John’s lips quivered as he looked up at his smiling mother, “…how did you get that pustule to sell you a marriage license?” Joan thrust her head over his arm to get site of the miracle. “Get your head out of the way.” Joan removed her head and proceeded to dance around the room in celebration.

  “William c’est très persuasif.”

  “I don’t have to go to London.”

  “Not unless you désire to freeze your aching derrière; Peter has arranged your marriage for tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh Mamma…” The petite woman found her feet dangling briefly in the air, her cheek warmly saluted and then she was abruptly abandoned. Lady Jemima sighed with pleasure as John ensnared his giggling bride and resumed their private tête a tête. She quietly closed the door as she pondered the odds of her difficult son finding love. It was a miracle.

  Chapter 17

  Peter Smirke wiped his lips as he watched his little brother take out his watch for the third time in two minutes, “Relax John, she’ll b-be down in a few minutes. Eat your toast. Wedding on an empty stomach is unwise.”

  “Mind your own children and leave me alone. What is taking them so long? How long does it take to dress one woman?”

  “They’re dressing a bride. Cosmo, are you a man or a fountain? Stop spitting tea at Charles.”

  “I am a fountain of life and when I get my hands on a woman…”

  John scowled at his leering nephew, “What a revolting thought. If you wanted to ruin my breakfast you succeeded.”

  “It can’t be any more revolting than the thought of you naked…poor Joan.” His four brothers joined him in laughing at their indignant uncle.

  “Cosmo!”

  “Yes Papa?”

  “Eat!”

  “The thought of Uncle John naked has put me off my food.”

  Peter coughed over his amusement and stood respectfully, “Ah ladies…”

  John turned in his chair, his eyes wide with relief and pleasure on finding his Joan out of mourning in bright pink silk. Unfolding his sore muscles, he stood to give his heart more room to pummel his chest. “Miss Lark, I thought you’d never come down.” Her impulsive deep curtsey displayed a generous portion of her low cut décolletage causing John’s mouth to water with thoughts of the afternoon. He took hold of her outstretched hand, kissed her fingers and whispered, “Another hour and my little lark will be caged in my arms forever…”

  “Sit down Jean Sébastien; Joan won’t survive the day on kisses.” John obeyed his mother without even a scowl, his chest wound throbbing in time with his ecstatic heart. His slow crooked smile was rewarded with bright pink cheeks as Joan absently stuffed toast into her mouth.

  “Why do lovers always look so absurd? The thought of looking like that makes me cringe.”

  “Cecil please, this is not the p-place to air your feelings on romance.”

  “Why? They can’t hear me. I could shoot myself and they wouldn’t blink.”

  “That is as may be Son, but we d-don’t wish to hear your opinion of love.”

  “Did you look at Mamma like that, when you were young
?”

  Lady Jemima leaned over and pinched her grandson’s cheek, “Your Papa is a private man.”

  “It’s alright Mamma. Yes, I made a c-complete fool of myself. Every time I came home from school she’d b-be in line with the other servants and I’d b-be in agony until I found her alone doing some chore. I’d stammer that I wanted to know if she missed me. She’d b-blush and stammer that she’d b-be sacked if Mamma learned I was making eyes at the housekeeper’s daughter, but seeing my disappointment she’d c-concede that she was pleased to see me… I worried for years Mamma would find out and send my beloved Katie packing…of c-course she knew all along.”

  “I thought mother fell in love with you the first time she saw you.”

  “She d-d-did…eat your b-b-breakfast.” The Smirkes silently watched their father struggle to hide his emotions before abruptly rising from the table and leaving the room.

  “You’re a blockhead Cecil, now you’ve upset Papa.” George punched his brother in the shoulder to emphasise his point and received an equal blow in return.

  “How was I supposed to know I’d upset him? I can’t see the future.”

  “That’s because you’re head is a piece of wood. Didn’t you hear Papa crying in his sleep last night? Wicked Uncle John gets to bed a beautiful woman and Papa has to share a room with us, of course he’s upset. You’re an idiot.”

  “Boys please.” The two young men ignored their grandmother and tried to cover their own grief by throwing angry punches while the three younger Smirkes numbly stared at the table. Agnes and Lord Belvedere were the only ones to notice James leave the table to comfort his brother and the footman set down two plates of toast.

  “I’m not hungry Nana.”

  “What’s wrong Robert? Are you ill?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not hungry either.”

  “Me neither…

  “Well if you’ve all finished eating you can come to the church with me and William. Go get your hats.” Cecil and George followed their younger siblings out of the room still punching each other. “Jean Sébastien.” John’s head jerked towards his mother, “The marriage license, it is in your pocket?”

  “No, I threw it on the fire…of course it’s in my pocket.”

  “William and I are going to leave for the church with the boys. Eat your breakfast. Your carriage is ordered. Don’t kiss Joan all morning or you’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”

  “I’m thirty-three not three Mamma.”

  “Are you done William?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jean Sébastien.”

  “What?” His mother ignored the satanic growl and calmly wiped her lips. “Stop regarding Joan’s eyes and eat your toast.”

  John sighed audibly as the table was deserted leaving him alone with Joan. “I didn’t think they’d ever leave. Come here and kiss me…please?” Acres of pink silk rustled cheerfully into his arms wrapping John in the warm new pleasure. After several long minutes John reluctantly freed his lips, his crooked smile illustrating his state of mind. “You’ll never escape your wicked guardian…” John sealed the promise by pulling Joan close and admiring her throat with his lips.

  “Oh Mr Smirke…I hope that’s not wicked…I like it.”

  Joan giggled as John moaned into her ear, “In an hour I shall kindly oblige my wife with as much wickedness as she could possibly desire.” Lost in another kiss, the couple were deaf to the departure of family members or the arrival of a coach. The soft cough at John’s elbow had to be repeated five times before Joan broke free of hungry lips to find a red faced Frederick standing a few inches away.

  “Forgive me Mr Smirke, but there’s a young lady at the door who wishes to speak with Miss Lark…”

  “I don’t care if the Queen is at the door; tell her to go to blazes. We’re getting married. Miss Lark doesn’t have time for…where are you going?”

  Joan slid off his lap and patted down her hair, “I want to see who it is. Your hair ribbon is coming undone…eat your toast. I’ll ask one of the maids to bring our hats down. We’ll leave as soon as the carriage arrives.”

  “Tell whoever it is to go away, I need you.”

  “You need me?” John’s crooked smile reappeared as her eyes widened with pleasure. “I’ve never been needed before.” She kissed his forehead and straightened his cravat. “I feel like I’m in a fairytale…tell me the magic never fades. I’d hate to wake up and find you were a myth. I’d miss my wicked beautiful guardian.”

  “I’m going to put a ring on your finger and chain you to my heart. Every morning I shall listen to you sing.”

  “I’m afraid your lark doesn’t sing, although the dancing master at my school once said the man brave enough to put a ring on my finger would never be bored…I thought that was a lovely compliment.” John winced as his heart seemed to expand in his chest causing an exquisite dose of pleasure and pain. He ensnared one of her hands and pressed his lips to her wrist.

  “I haven’t been bored since you flew into my arms; infuriated but never…” Frederick’s uncomfortable cough drew a scowl from John as Joan was reminded that there was an unknown person waiting to speak with her. John watched as his heart floated from the room in a cloud of pink silk. John licked his lips and rubbed his chest as he took a deep uncomfortable breath. The dull stillness of the room sent his eyes rolling back towards the door. How long would she be? He grimaced at his cold limp toast and drained his chocolate. An uncomfortable feeling of dread pulled him from his chair. It might be anyone at the door. Mulgrave could have cooked up some awful revenge… John sneered at his groundless panic as he stepped into the entrance hall in time to see the train of Joan’s pink dress trail out the front door. His sore muscles would only function at a slow rusty jog. He reached the open front door muttering curses on unwanted visitors. His shoulders relaxed, it wasn’t Mulgrave’s carriage. She was listening to some woman through an open carriage door, “Miss Lark!” The horses suddenly strained against the tension in the coachman’s hands.

  “Oh Mr Smirke…I’m so excited…she knew my mother.”

  “I don’t care if she knows the devil, come inside. The coach will be here…”

  A muffled voice inside the carriage shouted, “Now!” The two mismatched footmen in ill fitting livery standing guard on either side of the open door grabbed Joan and forcibly shoved her head first into the carriage. Joan’s angry scream stabbed John’s nerves as he forced his stiff muscles into action and jogged down the steps towards the carriage too terrified to think.

  “I’m coming…” A piercing scream was muted as a veiled woman shut the carriage door. A whip cracked over the horses and the carriage lurched out of reach. “Bring back my bride you bastards.” John screamed as agony erupted in his chest. He knew intimately all the unspeakable things that might happen to his little lark. Pain crippled his need to act. Running footsteps stopped behind him as both of his brother’s appeared too late to help. “Some bastard has taken my Joan…Peter, help me.” Wrapped in his older brother’s arms, the suffocating pain was almost bearable. “I’ve got to find her…Joan, I want my Joan…she needed me and I couldn’t save her.” John sobbed into his brother’s shoulder.

  Peter exhaled a shuddered breath, “I know how you feel. We’ll get her b-back…as soon as we figure out who’s taken her.”

  James Smirke cracked his knuckles, “Robert Neilson waltzed into my house last night and had the impudence to suggest Joan needed saving as if John were some sort of rakehell. Frederick!” The footman appeared in the doorway as if by magic. “Miss Lark has been abducted. We need to know if Robert Neilson’s at his town house or if he’s leaving Bath, hurry man. John…you’d best go wash your face. You don’t want to rescue Joan with snot dripping from your nose. I’ll load my pistols…”