by Robyn Carr
“I have in mind a young woman to replace the maid, and I don’t want to endanger her. What do you think?”
“I am told that Mrs. Latimer keeps herself much in evidence and foils many of Charles’s flirtations. I think the woman would be safe for a few weeks, at least. But you must be fair with her. She deserves warning.”
“Mr. Humphrey is bringing her to meet me this afternoon. You’re welcome to come along...”
“Tyson?”
Both men turned to see Vieve coming down the stairs. Doré’s eyes glowed. He enjoyed looking at her on every occasion, but he took even more pleasure in watching the two of them play against each other. The little goddess teased her husband well, and Tyson seemed to have trouble with the game.
Vieve was dressed in a gown of pale green velvet and was bedecked in hat, gloves, and her matching cloak slung over her shoulders. Behind her stood Harriet, also ready for an outing.
“Are you taking the coach, Tyson?” she asked.
“I had planned to. I have an appointment.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Perhaps while you’re out you could find a coach for hire and send it back for me?”
“Where are you bound? It can’t wait?”
Her mouth curved in a coquettish smile. “It is nearly Christmas, Tyson. I wanted to shop for some gifts.”
“Perhaps I could take you abroad tomorrow.”
“You do not require so much time for your meeting,” Doré intervened. “We could all go out together, and while you are at business, I will happily take Madam to do her chores. And then perhaps dinner in an inn?”
“That would be wonderful,” Vieve accepted quickly.
“I don’t know how long I will be engaged,” Tyson broke in.
“It is of no matter,” Doré said. “I am always pleased in the company of your beautiful wife. And I believe she is happy with me as an escort.”
“I had planned to take Harriet with me....”
Doré stepped up one step and reached out a hand to Vieve. “But it is not necessary, petite. I will guard you better. Come, we will have a good outing.”
Tyson glowered at the two of them, but neither noticed. Doré took possession of Vieve’s hand, escorted her out the door, and helped her into the coach. Tyson hesitated too long to even get the space beside her for his seat. He was quiet as the coach rattled toward the coffeehouse where his meeting was scheduled to take place. While his every thought was turned to being alone with Vieve, her happy disposition and innocent flirtation with Doré was enough to ruin his day.
Tyson had heard his friend’s liberal jests about his great talent for stealing ladies from other men. Doré had never trespassed before, but as this duration without intimacy with Vieve increased, Tyson grew more concerned about the depth of Doré’s loyalty. Doré not only doted on Vieve, but had actually come between them once. When the coach stopped, Tyson got out and gave a stern message to the Frenchman. “I will meet you here in two hours—not a moment more or less. Behave yourself with my wife.”
“How could you think otherwise, Tyson? I guard your prize as if she were my own.”
“That is not what I asked you to do.”
As he stood outside the common room watching the coach rattle away from him, Doré’s advantage stung him. He regretted his rash decision on his wedding night, for he had established this celibate marriage, and now she held him to it. He was tired of playing the gentle suitor and wanted to win his place beside her in bed. Waiting patiently had not lent him a sweet and docile temperament.
The wait inside the common room was not long. Mr. Humphrey brought the young woman in and introduced her as Mrs. Mary Earwhick. Tyson observed her while they waited for their drinks to be served. She was pretty, though simply dressed, and quiet, she looked a bit tired, but Tyson had been informed that she worked hard and had only one afternoon a week to call her own. After a few moments of conversation, it was easy to see that Mr. Humphrey had been right about the woman’s articulate speech and intelligence. If she was also a talented actress, much could be achieved. Only one thing gave him caution: as she lifted her glass of wine, her hand trembled.
“Has Mr. Humphrey told you why I wished to meet you?” Tyson asked.
“Yes, briefly. He says that you are in search of the family to the man in the drawing. It is possible that he is my husband.”
“Your husband’s name was Michael Everly?”
Her eyes flared slightly. “Was?”
“The man in the drawing is dead. I am sorry.”
Her eyes closed as she attempted to steady herself. When she opened them again there was a look of serenity. “How?”
“You’ll forgive me, madam, but before I disclose any further information, I should like to be certain that I am speaking with his kin. You understand.”
“I am certain that we speak of my husband. Everly was one of the many names he used for the stage. He was a brilliant actor, but not much of a husband. He left me to go with a troupe of traveling actors to America, where the opportunity was better. I’m certain he did not intend to return to me.”
“You appeared frightened until hearing of his death.”
“Yes, Captain. Michael had done a few things in the past that were dishonest. If he could earn a few pounds by taking on a false identity for the purpose of a theft or conspiracy, he would do so.”
“That is exactly what he did, but you will not suffer because of it. In fact, your honesty brings much relief to me, for I killed him in a duel.”
Even Mr. Humphrey’s eyes rounded at this information.
Tyson went on. “For several years I played casual escort to a woman who lived a short distance from my home. During this time I had no desire to marry, and the woman was liberal in her affections. I do not fault her for this, and perhaps I carry an equal weight in the wrong that was done. But I reached a time in my life when I saw marriage in a different light and broke away from her to engage in various courtships with young, virtuous women. She told me then that she desired marriage with me, but I declined. I encouraged her to find a suitable husband and even offered to bolster her dower purse. She was not without means, but the estate her parents had left her had dwindled considerably. She was a frivolous manager.
“A British aristocrat appeared as a visitor in our city, and the courtship between them began. Then the woman called me to her house on the pretense of business. I assumed she had need of money, but she surprised me with an entirely different request. I crawled into her bed again, and Michael Everly found us thus.
“In the course of the following days he made a public display of his anger. As he recounted the story, I began to sound like a jealous lover, while he stood up as the wronged aristocrat hungering for justice. He challenged me so that he could marry the woman. I tell you frankly that I intended only to injure him, but my aim was off and I hit his heart.”
Tyson took a long pull on his ale, and looked curiously at the woman’s faint smile.
“I assume the woman staged the event,” Tyson continued. “But I don’t understand how she convinced him to take a lead ball and end his life.”
Mary Earwhick shook her head. “Pardon, Captain, but you said your aim was misplaced. Is that usual for you?”
“I will admit that I was agitated. I missed my mark by the whole breadth of a man’s hand. That distance amazes me still.”
“You did not wish to kill him?”
“I offered him every alternative to a duel. I have a reputation as a good marksman. I went so far as to take a disadvantage, offering swords, which I handle poorly.”
The woman’s eyes were alive with mirth. “My dear, I am certain that he declined the swords. Oh, Captain, surely you did not kill him.”
“I looked for myself, madam. You may rest assured I killed him.”
“There was a good deal of blood then?”
“A great plenty.”
“Yes, I suppose there would be. Captain, my husband has played this role before. He do
es it well. He first attempted this on the stage, learning as he refined it. When the idea came to him, he thought it would make him the greatest actor in the world to be killed on stage. It was difficult for him to find someone to make the right props, for he needed a special, fragile glass. It is much like two plates, stuck together, but clay plates would be too strong and would not break easily. The glass had a small opening through which he could pour animal blood or thickened red dye. Real blood worked best. For the stage he tied the glass disk to his chest, and when a sword was thrust at him, he clutched his chest, breaking the thin glass, letting the red stain spread across his linen shirt.” She laughed aloud. “The first time, he cut his chest so badly with the glass that he learned to protect his own flesh better, and of course he chose to use blood rather than dye, for the dye stain on his body was impossible to remove.”
Tyson frowned. The duel was burned into his memory, and not a detail was forgotten. Everly had dropped his pistol and grasped his chest. “It is possible that he intended a hoax, but there was a dark smudge on his shirt where the shot had entered.”
“A little powder on the fist that struck his chest would accomplish that effect,” Mary assured him. “I’m sure if you were reluctant to duel, you told him in a great many ways that you would not kill him. He probably anticipated a wound, but if the woman paid well, he would do it. He was very proud of his skill as an actor. He could lie still and cold, even if he felt great pain. You see, if you were a bad shot and had hit his leg, he could not act his way through a chest injury. It is more likely you missed him entirely.”
“If I missed him entirely, he could have killed me,” Tyson said.
“If he had to be shot to be paid, Captain, he meant you no bodily harm.”
“Do you think there is a chance he is still alive?” he asked.
“Oh, alive and far away from the site. Was the funeral grand?”
“Very quiet,” Tyson mumbled.
“Then there was no challenge for him at all. He once played a dead man for two full afternoons and had to escape from a false bottom in a casket before he was buried. He earned a great deal for that, since an inheritance was at stake.” Her expression sobered slightly, but her eyes still twinkled. “I’m sorry he put you through so much. I would have come forward with the truth sooner, had I known. Did the woman who hired him get her wish?”
“She wished to have me marry her, especially after the ruinous gossip about us. I have made many other mistakes, but I chose not to make that one.”
“Then all is well,” Mary said with a smile.
“A hoax,” Tyson mumbled. “I never would have believed it.”
The woman raised both brows. “Of course not. That is why this demonstration usually comes at a high price. It is not only dangerous, it takes a very talented actor to accomplish it.”
“Well,” Tyson finally said, “I had intended to offer you restitution. Perhaps I am premature.”
“I’m certain that you are. And I would not have been able to take anything from you. Though my need may be great, Michael’s deception has caused trouble for too many people. He will make a fatal mistake one day. I wish I could feel sorry for him.”
“I commend you for your honesty, madam. You could have taken payment from me.”
“Have we not learned, through Michael, how bad money will haunt us? No thank you, Captain.”
Tyson was quiet for a long moment, thinking. He stared away from his guests, looking at nothing in particular, and a smile slowly grew on his lips.
“I’m certain you are outraged, Captain...”
He gave a short laugh. “To the contrary, I was not prepared for this relief. Although I felt I could defend my actions, I must admit that knowing no one was killed brings tremendous satisfaction. I had no pity or fondness for Everly, and that damned woman who plotted this did not have the least of my loyalty. But to think I was backed into a duel for her honor stung me deeply. She had no honor to defend.”
“Even in this short time, I see you as a man who dislikes killing, Captain.”
“Indeed, but don’t misunderstand. I am married now, madam, and I value the woman highly. Were she to be compromised, I would meet the culprit and...”
His voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying. He could no longer make excuses for his feelings. Vieve’s strong allure was the least of what bound him. He loved everything about her; he depended on her presence, her quiet trust, her proud and loyal bearing. The mere thought of returning to his lonely, unattached life-style seemed impossible.
He looked into Mary’s eyes. “My wife’s smallest comfort is worth the lives of ten men. To kill for her honor would bear no insult.”
Mary’s voice was soft. “She must be very proud to know how you adore her.”
Tyson quickly considered that there must be no further delay in telling her how greatly he prized her. He did not share this with Mary, but instead cleared his throat to proceed to another subject. “Mr. Humphrey tells me that you act as well.”
“Not for some time, Captain. But I think I was a marginal talent once.”
“Did you ever participate in your husband’s schemes?”
“Acting is for the pleasure of the audience, Captain. How could I bring pain to people?”
“Perhaps you would like to earn some money. Acting, so to speak.”
She frowned suspiciously. “I cannot oblige you in any way meant to bring people confusion or hardship, sir. That is no way to use a talent.”
“What I need is of that bend, but only to right a wrong and save lives. There is a man in London who has been plotting a course to ruin a local baron and myself. I had thought that he would be satisfied to rob us blind, but now I worry that he has more violence on his mind. All I wish is to place a servant in his household. If you were to take the position, I’m sure he would favor your presence. If you discover that the man is dangerous, you could possibly give me warning.” Tyson smiled. “The greatest danger to you is that he will undoubtedly pester you with his passionate advances. But he has a wife and children, and surely you could get close to him and still safely avoid his amorous attentions. He happens to have need of a maid at present. His favored one has left his employ without notice.”
Mary looked at Mr. Humphrey, then back to Tyson. She frowned as if the idea did not appeal.
“There is a great deal of money to be made, and the danger is minimal; if you find you cannot discourage his pursuit, quit his house hastily. I will pay you enough to keep you and your child for a long time.”
“And that is all? I must take a position in his household?”
“And pay attention to the people who visit him and, on occasion, listen carefully to what is said. I am prepared to offer you a bonus sum if you can find an accounting ledger that will incriminate him and show a record that he has paid to have crimes committed against the baron and myself. If you are clever enough to retrieve that, I will double your pay.”
“You wish to have me steal something from his household?”
“This theft would put him away as a criminal. My offer is this: one thousand pounds today for taking the job, another one thousand pounds for listening and watching in his household...and five thousand pounds total if you leave his house with any evidence that can be used to either convict or stop him from doing any further damage.”
“Will you tell me what to look for?” she asked, her interest peaked.
Tyson grinned broadly. “It will be my pleasure, madam. Can you find a place to leave your child until this is over?”
“It is done, sir. The Duchess Dunkirk does not allow me to keep her at the house on Larks Square. I have been paying for her boarding with another family, but if this goes well, we will never be separated again.”
“Very good. I rest easier knowing we do each other a valuable service.”
“But if he does not give me a position?”
“Madam, you are an actress.”
When Tyson emerged from the coffeehous
e, he felt as if his whole life had changed. He had not been prepared for the effect of learning he had not killed a man. It was the overriding threat of what the incident could mean in this country that had plagued some dark corner of his mind since he had first sighted Lenore.
Had he come to love and trust Vieve before he had claimed her virginity, he would have taken on any of Lord Ridgley’s problems to have her. So, he was late in knowing what he wanted, but he was not a fool. The love he felt for his wife went beyond anything he had ever felt in his life. Within that emotion was the energy to set her family troubles aright.
He faced only Charles Latimer. And he felt confident about that confrontation.
When his coach arrived, he opened the door and found his wife seated close beside her escort.
“Thank you, monsieur, for assisting my wife. Excuse me, I think you have my seat.” Doré moved reluctantly, but smiled knowingly. Tyson sat beside Vieve and took her hand in his. “I think we should celebrate. A trip to the theatre and dinner.”
Tyson was in high spirits, liberal with his coin, and seemed inclined to spend the rest of the day enchanting Vieve.
First he stopped at a flower cart en route to the theatre and purchased a small nosegay. They laughed through a farce at the theatre, dined at an expensive tavern popular among the noble class, and took a late drive through Hyde Park. His banter was never more mirthful; his affection toward her, whether in a brief caress or compliment, was delightful. While she had appreciated his attempts at courting her, tonight he behaved as though it was natural for him, and she felt adored.
The evening grew late, and she leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder and sighed. He lifted his arm, putting it around her to make her more comfortable. “Thank you, Tyson,” she said sweetly. “Today was even better than my birthday.” She yawned sleepily and he kissed her brow.
“Tyson,” Doré said softly. “The night is young for me. Will you drop me?”