“Don’t be a fool!” he growled, getting to his feet and crossing the room. He snatched at her hand, his fingers curving around her wrist so hard that there would be bruises. “The only way you’ll get so much as a sniff of that fortune is if you marry me.”
Dinah twisted her hand away, wincing as she forced his fingers free. “I’d rather spend the rest of my days in the gutter than be your wife,” she said in fury, meaning every word.
Grubber raised a hand and Dinah shouted.
“Joe!”
The door burst open, Joe barrelling through like an enraged bull as Mr Grubber paled and scurried to the far side of the office.
“You alright, little D?” Joe demanded, giving Grubber a look that made the man blanche and suck in a breath.
“I’m fine, Joe, thank you,” Dinah replied with a calm smile. “We’ll be going now, Mr Grubber, but I’ll be back.” She took Joe’s arm and swept out of the room, head held high.
“You won’t do it!” Grubber called after her, a sneer in his voice. “And I’ll have no imposters, you hear me? I’ll need proof!”
***
Dinah sighed and poured herself another small glass of gin. They were sitting in the parlour, the one good room left, in the house her father had left her. That her mother had held on it was something she was grateful for. It was the one piece of good fortune she’d had; well, besides Joe. It had been a fine house once, but they didn’t have the money to keep it in good order, though it was clean and tidy. This one room was the only one which still clung to respectability, though after so many years, its grasp was tenuous. It was well-furnished, and Dinah had gone hungry many times rather than give in and sell what remained of its finery.
“Hey, that’ll do, treacle,” Joe said, his voice reproving as he moved the bottle of gin from her reach with a frown. “Mother’s ruin t’aint the sort of thing a young lady drinks.”
“But I’m not a lady, Joe,” Dinah said in a small voice. All of her bravado had dissipated the minute they’d left the repulsive Mr Grubber’s office. The repulsive old satyr was right. She didn’t have a chance in hell.
Joe’s hand reached out and took hers, squeezing it tight. “Don’t you say that!” His voice was low and angry, and she looked up to see him staring at her, such affection in his eyes that her throat grew tight. “You’re beautiful and clever and bright, little D. You’re everything a lady should be, and don’t you forget it.”
Dinah tried to smile but found it a hard expression to bring to her face. “You’re sweet, Joe and I know you mean it, but a lord? It’s impossible and you know it. Even if I could pass in those circles in the first place, I’ve got no way in, I’d never even get a foot in the door, and to make a man fall for me in less than six weeks?” She shook her head. “It’s not possible.”
“With a face like that, you could do it less than a day with the right, fella,” Joe said, stubborn as ever. “But I take your point. So, we’ll just have to make him.”
Dinah frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The will said you had to be engaged, right? Not married, engaged.”
Dinah nodded. “Even my grandfather had to accept that marriage would be a lot to ask before I was of age, the will was dated just four months ago, he must have known his time was running short. But a public engagement is as good as being married, the man wouldn’t be able to get free of it once the offer was made. He’d lose any shred of honour.”
“Not unless you released him, no,” Joe said, grinning. “Now you listen here, luv. We don’t need a man to love you, we just need one willin’ to be engaged to you until after the money is in your hands. You could pay someone amply once you’d got all the loot, eh?”
Dinah brightened at his words, sitting up a little straighter. “Well, that’s true enough, but … who? Most lords aren’t short of a bob or two and they’d just think I was trapping them into marriage.” She shook her head as her hopes fell away. “They wouldn’t take the chance.”
“No,” Joe agreed, nodding, his face thoughtful now. “They wouldn’t … unless they didn’t have a choice.”
Chapter 4
“Wherein our heroine baits the hook with a juicy worm.”
Ben stared at the man across the table from him, as best he could through the thick haze of cigar smoke, at least. He was most certainly not a gentleman. Though it was hardly surprising as Ben was rather out of his element in the low dive he’d passed the evening in. He was tired of his usual routine, though, tired of the same faces and the same conversations. He’d wanted a decent game of cards and he’d found it here from time to time in the past. It was a dangerous place, though, and his senses were on alert. He’d had a good evening so far, a winning streak that been more than satisfying. Then the huge fellow opposite him had sat down and everyone else had disappeared.
He didn’t blame them. The man carried an air of menace with him that the width of his neck and shoulders did nothing to dispel. Yet he’d seemed jovial enough, engaging Ben in small talk as he dealt the first round. Ben didn’t like it.
The first hands went smoothly, both winning one a piece. Then the fellow suggested they increased the wager. Ben stared at him, wondering if he could afford such an amount, but nodded his agreement. He wasn’t about to insult the fellow who looked like he could squeeze the life out of him, one-handed. Not that Ben was a light-weight. He stood over six foot and was broad with it. Years boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s had put heavy muscle on his frame and he knew how to handle himself. It would be a brave man who took him on. Something told Ben the man opposite wouldn’t think twice about it.
Ben watched the cards, and the man’s hands with care. He knew many of the tricks that younger and greener men than him got caught by. So, when the fellow lost, and heavily, he was more than a little surprised.
“Damn,” the big man said, running a hand through his greying beard with a rueful sigh as he stared at his losing hand. “Now I’m for it.”
Ben gave him a sympathetic grin. “Wife?”
The fellow shook his head. “Nah,” he said, grinning. “My employer. I shall have to ask her for an advance on me wages, see. Won’t be best pleased, but she’s a good sort.” His face fell, and he looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry to put you out, sir, but … I don’t have the whole amount on me. The house is just around the corner though. Would you mind?”
Something was making Ben’s instincts prickle. No doubt the fellow had plans to knock him on the back of the head the minute he got him alone. That restless feeling that had been haunting him the past days prickled to life again, though, making him reckless. Something in him wanted to tempt the devil tonight.
“She’ll pay up?” he demanded, not wanting to waste his time if the fellow was telling the truth and not wanting to raise his suspicions if he was up to no good.
“Oh, yes, sir,” he said, his face grave as he nodded. “Good as gold, I promise.”
Ben got to his feet. “Very well, lead on Mr …”
“Kray, sir,” he replied, holding out one massive hand. “But everyone calls me Joe.”
“Pleased to meet you, Joe,” Ben said, eyeing the man’s hand as they shook. Scarred and calloused, it was the size of a large ham. If this fellow wasn’t a villain, Ben would eat his hat. “I’m Lancaster. Ben,” he added, deciding he’d do well to keep things low-key. No need to tempt the fellow into mischief by bandying his title about. So with a leery eye on his dubious companion, Ben followed him out of the door.
There was a house and Ben got to it without having his throat slit. It was a decent address, too, though the place showed signs of wear and neglect. Joe showed him into an elegant, if worn, parlour and bid him wait a moment while he explained things to his mistress. If Ben wondered what the old lady would have to say at being woken at this hour of the night to pay off a gambling debt, he kept such thoughts to himself.
His instincts were still all on edge, something telling him that there was mischief afoot, but he was damned if he could s
ee what it was. Any thoughts, suspicious or otherwise, fled, however, when the lady of the house entered the room.
Good God, he didn’t say, though he thought it. Not an old lady, then, though there was a dreadfully skinny, older woman with her.
“Mr Lancaster?” the lady said, an enquiring tone to her voice as her companion hurried to the corner of the room in silence and sat down.
Ben just gaped at the vision before him for a moment before he remembered his manners.
“Yes,” he said, before amending, “Lord Lancaster, actually.” He gave the vision before him his most charming smile, but she seemed unmoved by it.
God, but she was lovely. Not his usual type, but then he was more than willing to make an exception. Petite and elegant, she was slender but still curvaceous in all the right places, as the cut of her gown revealed rather splendidly. Ben forced his gaze from an expanse of creamy white décolletage with difficulty and met a pair of amused blue eyes. His own were blue, too, but his were dark and hers far paler, a bright, almost crystal clarity to them that was a little unnerving. Her hair was a profusion of blonde curls surrounding an elfin face, and the package topped with the most endearing, little, turned-up nose he’d ever seen. She was delectable to her toes, and she made his mouth water.
“Lord Lancaster,” she repeated, inclining her head a little. “I am Miss Osborne and I’m afraid Mr Kray has put you to a deal of trouble this evening.”
“Not in the least,” Ben replied, meaning it, too. Right at this moment, he could have kissed the terrifying Mr Kray with real gratitude for leading him here. “I’ve never been more pleased to be taken out of my way.”
The lady lowered her eyes, a little colour in her cheeks that told Ben she wasn’t as immune to compliments as she might like to believe. She was a strange little thing, beautiful, yet holding herself with the reserve and confidence of one much older. She could only be in her early twenties at most, he judged. Whether she was a lady, he could not decide.
“You are very kind, my lord,” she said, her voice the well-modulated tones of the upper classes. Perhaps she’d fallen on hard times, then? “I believe Mr Kray owes you a sum of money?”
Ben nodded, feeling uneasy all at once. It seemed clear enough that the lady could ill afford the sum that her feckless employee had lost to him.
“Please don’t trouble yourself, my lord,” the lady said, giving him such a sad smile as she noticed his anxiety that Ben’s heart clenched. “We pay our debts in this house.”
Ben opened his mouth, hardly believing he would let the man get out of paying, but not wanting to distress this lovely creature any more than necessary.
“Well, in the circumstance, perhaps …”
“No, Lord Lancaster.” There were tears sparkling in her eyes now as she turned away from him, but that determined tilt to her head remained and told him his offer would be taken as an affront.
“Perhaps you would like some time to pay?” he suggested, thinking this would suit him perfectly, giving him further excuses to come and call on this exquisite creature, but the lady just shook her head, a mournful expression on her beautiful face.
“No, but …” she said, and then hesitated. Ben saw a guarded look in her eyes. She had just thought of something outrageous and was wondering whether to voice it. He prayed that she would.
“But,” he prompted, his tone gentle as she blushed again, swallowing hard.
“I have a little talent with the cards myself, my lord,” she admitted, looking at him with anxiety, perhaps thinking he would judge her for it. “Would … would you be amenable to playing me? Perhaps my luck will turn?”
Ben stared at her in surprise. She wanted to play him at cards?
“Dorothea.”
He watched with growing astonishment as she dismissed the emaciated creature in the corner that Ben had forgotten about. The woman had clearly been brought into the room for propriety’s sake and her dismissal spoke volumes more than any words.
“Well, my lord?” she demanded, head held high.
There was something about this young woman that spoke to him. She was not like the pretty young things he encountered, who had nothing more on their vacuous minds than a new frock, catching a wealthy husband, and the excitement of whatever society event was coming next. Ben was certain that life had battered this woman, but she refused to bend. He could see it in her eyes, a fierce pride, a determination to live, and to do it well. He felt the sudden and urgent desire to know her better, perhaps even to ease the burden she carried. Having such a woman as his mistress was the only thing he could think of. He wanted her. If he played his cards right, perhaps he could have her, and make her life one of ease at the same time.
“Very well,” he said, wondering what she had in mind as his own path was now clear to him. “But what will you wager? You’ve already lost a large sum which you can ill afford to pay, if you will forgive my bluntness.”
Miss Osborne put up her chin a little further, defiance in her eyes. “I can pay it,” she said, sounding affronted.
He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice. “But not without pain,” he said, sympathy in his voice now. “So I ask again, what will you wager?”
Miss Osborne’s blush increased, but she did not drop her gaze. “Myself.”
Ben sucked in a breath. He hadn’t expected such directness. He stared at her, searching her eyes. Did she understand what she was suggesting? “Are you quite sure that’s what you want?” he asked. He might be a cad and a rake, but he would not take a woman who didn’t want him in return. Miss Osborne needed to understand the deal she was making.
She didn’t look away from him, but just gave a brief nod of her head.
Ben moved closer now, taking her hand. “You have been direct, Miss Osborne, and so now I shall do the same. I am not interested in one night with you. If you lose, you will become my mistress, is that clear to you? In return, I will ensure that you never have to be troubled by money worries again. I will take care of you, good care, you have my word. Is that acceptable?”
Miss Osborne gave another tight little nod. “And if you lose, my lord,” she said, a slight smile at her lips now that surprised him. He had to admit that his victory was a forgone conclusion in his own mind, he was skilled with the cards, no match for a young woman like this, but he listened respectfully as she carried on. “You will pay me double the amount Mr Kray owes you, and you will owe me a debt of honour. A favour I may recall at any moment, in any circumstance. Is that acceptable?”
He raised his eyebrows, taken aback by her bold demand. The light of challenge shone in her eyes now, but Ben wasn’t a gambler for nothing. He wanted Miss Osborne, and he was damn well going to have her. He could not wait to get started.
“It is,” he replied, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. “Quite acceptable.”
Chapter 5
“Wherein our hero is caught … hook, line, and sinker.”
It had been far easier than Dinah had expected. She knew Joe would be furious for her at putting her own virtue up as the prize, but a man like Lord Lancaster was not going to swayed by money alone. The desire in his eyes had been a heady thing, though, blatant. He wanted her, and he would play for high stakes to get her. He played well, too, and if she’d been playing fair, he’d have likely beaten her. But Dinah wasn’t interested in playing fair tonight. Life wasn’t fair. It never had been, and it never would be. Life would have her under its thumb, grinding her into the dirt until she lost her pride and her self-respect, and that she would not allow. Perhaps she’d go to hell, perhaps she’d pay a price for her sins, but there was such a thing as hell on earth and no proof of the one that came after. She’d take her chances as she did with the cards and see who won in the end.
Dinah watched him now, he’d lost heavily already, and this, the last hand, would decide things. He didn’t know she already held the winning hand and had from the beginning, before he’d even set foot in the room. If she said so
herself, her performance had been a masterpiece, utterly flawless. Joe would be proud of her. His Lordship, the poor devil, had never stood a chance. She could almost feel sorry for him as she’d noted the brief glint of puzzlement in his eyes, except then she remembered that he was playing for her body and soul, and her heart grew cold once more.
After he’d lost the first hand, she could tell his suspicions were aroused, but he was too much the gentleman to accuse her of cheating, especially as he didn’t have a shred of proof. Dinah suspected he wasn’t even sure she was cheating. She had let him win the next, just to settle him down, and then went in for the kill. His eyes had been on her then, watching her hands with an intensity that told her he was sure now that he was being played, he just didn’t know how. But Dinah had the hands of a magician, and the tricks your average card sharp could only dream of. He just couldn’t figure it out.
He was very still now, apparently at ease, no trace of doubt or concern in his features. A hard man to beat when the cards weren’t stacked against him, handsome, too, she had to admit. Those blue eyes were heavenly, and my, they were blue, a deep colour she had never seen in life. They were the colour of an exotic ocean she remembered from a lovely picture book, the colour improbable in its intensity.
Her and Joe had spent considerable time on his lordship, researching their quarry well, and dismissing many of his contemporaries before settling upon him as their fat pigeon, ready for plucking. He had a dark reputation, this man, for gambling and womanising and vice in all its gaudy colours. She could just imagine how many women had fallen into his arms, given up virtue and honour and heart for the chance to be with him. It felt like a victory for the female race, to hold his fortunes in her hands for once, albeit in a small way. She meant him no lasting harm, if he kept his word and played his part, at least. But for the moment, she would savour her victory and lay it at the feet of all the women who had fallen at his.
The Last Man in London Page 3