by Jade Lee
“Imagine me w’ all that money. Why, Tommy and me can finally have new clothes again.” She could already hear that Mr. Addicock and Ned had discovered the locked door and were trying to open it. So she slammed her hand against the door to hold it closed. “Ooh! I think they’ve returned!” she said loudly.
She looked back at Samuel, whose face had flushed red and she was pretty sure she heard him mutter a very impressive curse.
The lock slipped back with a thunk and the doorknob turned. “Oooh, wait!” she cried. “I’ll get the door. Here. Let me unlock it.” Bracing the door shut with her foot, she shoved the key into the lock and relocked it. Then she made a show of turning the knob. “Here now, Mr. Addicock. Oh, blimey! Did I lock it?”
On the other side of the door, she could hear Mr. Addicock cursing her. She laughed loudly. “Silly me! Just a moment! I dropped the key.”
She turned back to Samuel, glaring at him even though he couldn’t see. Damn the man. He’d gotten the door open in half the time. Below her hand, she felt Addicock insert his own key and twist it open. She hadn’t the time to relock it again. She was just about to fling herself bodily against the door when Samuel crowed softly and straightened up. Success!
“About bloody time,” she hissed as she stepped back.
“Language, my dear,” he shot back. Then the door flew open as an obviously angry Addicock stormed in. He was a fleshy man with sagging jowls and florid skin. But his eyes were disconcertingly pretty with long lashes over his brown eyes.
“What cause have you to lock me out of my own office?” he bellowed.
Samuel was at Penny’s side in an instant, his manners congenial, but his general stance protective. It was such an odd moment for her. Not even her father had ever done such a thing. Only her mother when she thought a customer was getting too friendly. And that had been more to shoo Penny into the back than anything else.
So when Samuel suddenly stepped between herself and Mr. Addicock, it left her startled and flustered. Part of her wanted to shove him away, and truthfully if it were a usual day, she would have. But today had been the worst of all her days, except for the night she’d learned her parents had died. So when a handsome man stepped between her and the thieving man who’d stolen everything from her, she allowed it to happen. She even exhaled in relief.
It gave her time to search for a weapon with which to kill the bastard.
Meanwhile, Samuel was smiling his generally flustered, half-mad smile. “Ah well, Miss Shoemaker has been feeling a bit unsettled ever since her parents died. She was scared, you see, so I locked the door myself. As a way to calm her nerves. Delicate creatures, women, but it’s usually best to humor them.”
Addicock wasn’t fooled, but Ned obviously was. He stepped forward to offer her his hand. “No need to be afraid now. I’ll make sure everything’s right and tight for you, Miss Shoemaker.”
Penny smiled. She wanted to roll her eyes that this boy had obviously gone sweet on her. She was much too old for him, not necessarily in years, but in experience. And yet, that same experience told her that she should never disdain kindness even if it was from an earnest young man. Especially an earnest young man who was apprentice to her enemy.
But it made her feel like the lowest worm to play on his sympathies as if she were interested in him. Still, she took young Ned’s hand.
“Thank you,” she breathed with enough huskiness to make poor Ned color up to his ears. Then she turned to Mr. Addicock. “Could we not go into your office now? I should like to understand.”
The man’s brows drew even more tightly downward but he didn’t so much as twitch. It was obvious he couldn’t decide what his next move should be—whether to throw her out or allow her deeper into his clutches. Fortunately, Samuel was there to force the decision.
He smiled and spoke gently. “She just wishes to understand the terms of her father’s will. She has that right, Mr. Addicock. And I am here to see that nothing untoward happens.”
Addicock’s gaze snapped up to Samuel’s. “Untoward? There’s nothing untoward about any of this!”
A guilty confession if ever there was one, and Penny twitched with the need to scratch the man’s eyes out. Fortunately, Ned was already moving her toward the office door.
“Of course you want to know, Miss Shoemaker. I’m sorry I didn’t know your father. I wasn’t working the day he made up his will. But Mr. Addicock was just telling me that he was a kind and generous man. A good man. They were friends, you know. And he did right by picking Mr. Addicock here as his solicitor. He’ll make sure everything is right and tight for you.”
Penny stared at the boy. He couldn’t possibly believe everything he was saying. For one thing, her father was not a kind or generous man, or at least he wouldn’t have been to poor Ned. Her father, as a rule, was as pinchpenny as they came and had little respect for apprentices. But one look at Ned’s earnest face told her that he did indeed believe in her father’s good nature and Addicock’s as well. “But don’t you work every day? Saturdays, too?”
The boy frowned. “Yes, miss.”
“Then how could you not have been here—”
“It was a Sunday,” Addicock snapped as he stepped in front of Ned, probably to block the doorway. But when everyone stopped to stare at him, he had little choice but to open it. He glared at Penny as if all this were her fault. And then once again, Samuel stepped in the way.
“By ‘untoward,’ I meant that I would keep Miss Shoemaker from any unseemly displays of emotions. She’s delicate, as I said. And it’s excruciatingly hard to do business with a wailing woman in the room. I assure you, it’s my only purpose here.”
Delicate? Wailing? Good God, the toff was giving her a hard role to play. And right there, as if to spite her, the seething anger roiled in her throat. She’d have choked if she weren’t so used to swallowing it down.
Addicock spent one moment more staring at Samuel, and then he gave a slight nod, which Samuel echoed. Right there, plain as day: the silent communication between men who promised to keep their dirty secrets away from the women. It fueled the anger inside her, burning it to a fever pitch. All of a sudden, everything she had ever doubted about Samuel—the crazy toff—surged to the fore. He was supposed to be her ally, and yet here he was trading nods with the bastard who had stolen everything from her.
“Why, you bloody—”
Samuel whirled around, his eyes blazing with alarm. “A moment more, Penny. I promise you, everything will be all right in a trice.”
It was a lie and they both knew it. The question was, would she trust him to play out his game? Or was he yet another man intent on cheating her?
She bit her lip. She’d already made her choice a few hours ago. Only a stupid fool would throw away her last hope on a temper tantrum. So she swallowed down her fury—again—and forced herself to act wilting. Wilting, for God’s sake.
“It’s just been a rather difficult day,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Of course,” Samuel said. Then he threw a warning glance at Addicock. “Please, let’s progress with this quickly. No need for dramatics, what?”
The bastard nodded—obviously feeling a masculine kinship with Samuel in the need to avoid female hysterics—and quickly opened his office door. Ned and Samuel together led Penny to a chair as if she hadn’t spent most of her life hauling wood and working leather. She sat gingerly in the seat, more because she wanted room to leap up and scratch the bastard’s eyes out than because she was feeling “delicate.” Either way, Samuel and Ned hovered solicitously over her while Addicock went straight to the pile that held the will.
He pulled it out and waved it at her face without really showing her the document. “Here’s the will.” He pointed to the bottom. “Here’s your father’s signature.” He pointed again. “Here’s my name. Makes me guardian of young Tommy. That means I control his money completely. Everything he owns goes through me and I’ll take care of him right and tight.”
; She reached for the document, but he set it behind him on his desk. Then at an arch look from Samuel, he huffed, grabbed it again, and handed it over. To Samuel.
Men!
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would my father do this?”
“Well, somebody has to look after Tommy.”
She glared at the man. “I have been. Every night. Every day.”
The man had the grace to flush, but that didn’t stop him from softening his expression in the warmest, kindest way. It was startling really. She knew he was a scoundrel, possibly a murderer, and yet, he was also rather handsome in a fatherly kind of way.
“I know this is hard, Miss Shoemaker. You have been doing an excellent job of raising Tommy, but I was referring to his financial affairs. Even if you could manage to sort through the mess of documents…” He gestured behind him to the piles that she knew for a fact had nothing to do with Tommy. “You have enough to do with his daily care. This needs to be handled by a man who understands finances and the law.” Then he paused, tilting his head in the way a kindly uncle might. “Miss Shoemaker, don’t you remember me? Your father and I were friends. We used to meet at Bert Harvey’s pub, but surely you remember me.”
She did, now that she was looking at him. He’d come around the shop many times. Bought a pair of boots, but never paid, as she recalled. And yes, he and her father had seemed friendly enough. But then her father had been friends with anyone who might be a customer. Still, with all eyes on her, she was forced to nod. “I remember you,” she pushed through a constricted throat. “But I don’t remember anything about a will.”
“Well, not the thing to speak of to a delicate woman,” he said gently. “Talk of death is always upsetting to the fairer sex.”
Beside her, Samuel nodded. “This seems to be in order. Who are these gentlemen here? The witnesses? John Smithee and Thomas Baker.”
Penny wanted to know that, too. “I don’t know them.”
“Hmm? Oh, friends of your father’s,” Addicock answered. “This will was done at the pub, you know. And on a Sunday. Didn’t even want to come to the office. But it’s filed, you know. All legal like.”
Bollocks, Penny snarled in her thoughts.
“So you never met them before?” Samuel pressed. Then he turned to the boy. “What about you, Ned? Ever seen them or heard of them before?”
Ned shook his head. “But I wouldn’t. Not if it were done at a pub.”
“Well, then I suppose all that’s left is to sort out the details of Miss Shoemaker’s monthly allowance and the delivery of cash from the sale of her home.”
Addicock jerked in what was obviously a practiced move. “What?” he gasped overly loud. Truly the man had no future on the stage. He was a terrible actor. “What sale?”
“A Mr. Cordwain appeared just this morning with armed men and the constable. He took possession of the Shoemaker store and all the property contained within. Had all the right documents with him.”
“Couldn’t have!” Addicock cried. “I never authorized such a sale.”
“He had all the correct documents. Both myself and the constable checked them.”
Addicock shifted behind his desk. Now that he was into his performance, he seemed to be moving more securely. His acting skills improved and Penny could almost believe he was outraged on her behalf. “Well, false documents can be hard to spot unless one is well trained. Bloody hell!” he cursed, then immediately looked up with a perfectly done rueful look. “Pardon me, miss. I am certain that everything can be sorted out right and tight and that villain Cordwain tossed in jail.”
Samuel nodded. “And what, may I inquire, can you do against a man like Cordwain?”
“Oh, many things, many things! Documents to file. Notices to be served. That sort of thing. All legal things, you understand. Never you fear, Miss Shoemaker. I’ll sort things out right away.”
She had to force herself to nod. She recognized a man who was lying through his teeth. Especially since he wasn’t doing anything with the papers on his desk but rearranging them. And surprise of surprises, one glance at Ned’s troubled face told her that he suspected something amiss as well.
“How?” she pressed, knowing that details were the best way to catch a liar. “How exactly, Mr. Addicock? And don’t say legal things. I need to know. That was my home!”
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Addicock soothed. “Of course you are upset. Ned, get the lady some water.”
Ned leaped up to do just that, but Penny kept her eyes trained on the solicitor. She wanted him to know she would not be distracted by a glass of water.
In the end, he sighed. “You see, Miss Shoemaker, the thing is that Mr. Cordwain may be our villain. Or he may have been duped by a canny thief who pretended to be me. It’s all very havy cavy, but I assure you, I shall sort it out.”
Samuel leaned forward. “And while you are sorting things out, you will need to provide funds for your charge to survive. Without their home, Tommy and Miss Shoemaker are on the streets.”
“Wot?” gaped Addicock.
“As Tommy’s legal guardian, you must provide for his well-being. I assure you, sleeping on the streets is not being well.”
“But there was no money in the estate. Only the shop and the like. And Cordwain stole that.” He turned to Penny. “Haven’t you a place to stay? A, um, gentleman’s home?” he asked as he glanced significantly at Samuel. “Just until things get sorted out.”
Penny stiffened. “What kind of woman do you take me for?”
Addicock gave her a sad look, as if he were a disappointed father. “My dear, I know all the details from your father. Perhaps you could stay with Tommy’s father?”
“Bloody hell,” she cursed as she pushed to her feet, but Samuel grabbed her hand to hold her still. And when he spoke, it was with freezing accents.
“Mr. Shoemaker was Tommy’s father.”
“Yes, yes, we all know he claimed that. Adopted his wife’s sister’s son, and no husband to be found. But…” His eyes slid to Penny. “The boy’s true parentage—”
“Is my aunt and her husband,” Penny snapped.
Addicock didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, especially as Ned had returned and pressed a glass of water into her hand. Penny glanced up to thank him, only to have the words die in her throat. Even the boy had changed how he looked at her. No more worship or sweet blushes. His gaze had turned almost dirty somehow because he assumed she was a tart.
It was all she could do not to throw the water back in his face. She sure as hell wasn’t going to drink it. So she set it back down—forcefully—on the desk. Then she pushed to her feet.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Addicock,” she said in freezing accents.
Samuel was on his feet as well, pushing forward to cut off her words. “You’re going to give her a hundred pounds to get through the month—”
“A hundred pounds! The devil—”
“And then you go to the constable immediately, showing the proper documents of your guardianship and demand that he look into this heinous fraud!”
Addicock leaned over his desk, his face florid and his handsome eyes narrowed in fury. “I haven’t bloody well got a hundred pounds! I haven’t even got the quid to pay Ned here and he’s a damn sight more useful than your Tommy!”
“Wot?” That came from Ned, the tone both surprised and indignant. And it was enough to recall Addicock to himself.
The man straightened his coat, tugging on the fabric in what was obviously a nervous habit. Then he spoke slowly and clearly, his eyes calm and his expression grim. “Guardianship of one Tommy Shoemaker has not brought me any money at all. There has been no income from the property; therefore, I have nothing to give Miss Shoemaker.” He turned to Penny, his expression cold. “I suggest you find a husband. Quickly. Or ply some other trade.” His tone left no doubt as to what trade he referred to.
She gasped, but Samuel tightened his hold on her arm, silently willing her
to keep quiet. It was a near thing, but she obeyed. For the moment.
“But you will go to the constable to show proof of guardianship? And you will report this crime? This is what a legal guardian would do.”
Addicock released something between a growl and a grunt. As answers went, it meant nothing. Fortunately, Samuel wasn’t going to let the man get away with that.
“You know, I intend to stop by the constable’s this afternoon. Should I send him around to you? But of course, once here, he might take it into his head to look into more documents. As long as he’s here—”
“I said I’ll go to the constable. It’s what a guardian does, and I take my responsibilities seriously.”
Samuel gave a brusque nod, then turned to Penny with a smile. “Very well, Miss Shoemaker. I believe we are done here now.”
“What?” she gasped. “I have no home, no money, no—”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware. But these things take time, as I’m sure you know. Let Mr. Addicock do his job. He’ll get it all sorted out.”
“But—”
“Please,” he said, his expression congenial, but his eyes intense.
She wanted to argue. She wanted to choke Addicock with her bare hands. But she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, and so in the end, she spun on her heel and headed toward the door. Samuel followed at a slower pace, as if thinking of something.
“Oh, one more thing, Ned. I believe I know your aunt. Is it Mrs. Saynsberry? Husband owns a printing shop down by Picadilly Circus?”
The statement was so odd that it caused Penny to turn around. But her confusion was nothing compared to Ned and Addicock’s. They both stared at Samuel as if he were the daft toff she knew he was.
“Er, no, sir,” Ned answered. “My family’s the Wilkers. Live down in Shoreditch.”
“Of course they are! Now I remember. I saw one of your father’s plays once. Or read one. Or was it a poem?” Penny could tell he was guessing. Shoreditch was known for its writers and artists, and given that Ned was a clerk, it made sense that his father was a writer. But it was just a guess. Fortunately, given Ned’s surprised expression, she could tell that Samuel was right.