Kiss Me Lady One More Time

by Marlowe, Deb

  “It’s true, sir. I can slip in and out of almost anywhere, with no one the wiser,” the girl declared with pride. “I see things, too. Send me into a room for a few moments and I can tell you two dozen things about it, even hours later.”

  “Mrs. Caradec must value your aid highly,” Penelope told her.

  “She speaks well of you, too, ma’am. That were a good notion tonight, the decoy carriage. But that man that watches you, he was prepared tonight. He had several men with him. One of them is likely tailing us now.”

  Penelope sighed.

  “Don’t worry, though. The driver knows to take an unreliable route. Wapping is a warren. We can probably lose them,” Ruby said cheerfully.

  “Someone is still following you?” Whiddon asked. He leaned and peered out of the window. “Do Tensford and Sterne know what we are up to?” He sat back. “I suppose I should have asked that question earlier.”

  “They should know by now. I left Hope a note. And in any case, Mrs. Caradec will explain when she sees them at the masquerade ball.”

  They settled in for the ride then, each of them occupied in their own thoughts. Penelope watched the wide, lit streets of Mayfair fade away. Her anxiety grew as they traveled east. It was not assuaged when they turned into the narrow, dark streets of Wapping. They were not empty streets. Shadows moved and shouts and laughter rang out. They rattled through a maze of twists and turns before pulling up at least several carriage lengths away from the tavern.

  “Hold your skirts high, here, Miss. It’s filthy,” Ruby declared. “Although to be truthful, it ain’t much better inside the Pelican.”

  “No matter.” Penelope climbed down with resolution. “Let’s go find my cousin.”

  They pushed past a group of dockworkers lollygagging outside the place. She stopped just inside, to allow her eyes to adjust and to ascertain the lay of the land.

  It was close and warm and loud inside. Several card games appeared to be in play. A group of sailors sang lustily in the back, at the edge of a long, wooden bar. Nearly all of the seats were filled—and yes—there was James, at a table, halfway down the room.

  She nudged Whiddon and pointed with her chin. James did not resemble the usual sleek, suave picture he gave to the world. His hair was wildly disheveled, and his coat was too large. He was bent over a pint, pounding a finger onto the table next to it. He was talking, but the two large gentlemen at his table—one on either side—appeared to be past listening. They were drinking their own pints and watching the other occupants of the taproom.

  Still, it was James who stopped and looked up, as if the brush of her disgusted gaze had been physical. He looked about the room. When he met her gaze, he flushed red with shame and dismay. With a sudden movement she would have thought beyond him, he stood and pushed the table away. Edging past the large man on his left, he bolted for the back of the room.

  “Damn the cowardly sod!” Whiddon pointed a finger at her. “Stay together and stay here!” He dashed off after James.

  Penelope exchanged a glance with Ruby and sighed. “Stay back a little, just in case,” she murmured.

  She approached the table, where the two men were restoring order. “You are the Curtis brothers, I presume?”

  They exchanged alarmed glances. The man on the left, the one with a fresh scar across his temple, glanced about, then narrowed his gaze at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t come here with only one man, sir. Don’t consider doing anything stupid.”

  “Who are you?” the other brother asked.

  “I’m surprised you don’t know me. I know you. I know you stole Tensford’s fossil and transported it here to London. I’m assuming it was my feckless cousin who hired you to do it.”

  “Cousin? You’re the one? The woman who had him locked out?” The scarred brother laughed. “And you, such a little bit of a thing!”

  “Yes. I am the one. The cousin. The girl. The one from Gloucestershire, like you. The one with the money.” She raised a brow. “Has my cousin paid you for doing the job?”

  “Would we still be here, had he done?”

  The scarred one shushed his brother.

  “I’ll double your fee if you tell me who directed him to steal it.”

  Scarred Curtis shrugged. “Don’t know names. Some toff. Such names mean nothing to us.”

  She sighed. “Did you deliver it to the toff’s house?”

  They both nodded.

  “Can you find it again?”

  The first brother nodded again and the scarred one smacked him.

  Leaning back, she whispered something to Ruby, who brushed past and went toward the back of the inn.

  Penelope turned back to the men and made a beckoning motion. “Come on, then. Show me. Take me there.”

  “What, now?”

  “Yes. Now.”

  They exchanged a long look before leaning in to whisper together. Penelope waited. After a moment, Ruby returned. “There’s no sign of either of them,” she reported. “Kitchen girl says they run out the back and into the alley. No sign there, either.”

  “Well?” she said to the Curtis brothers. “James is long gone and will likely disappear like the rat he is. It appears that I’m offering you the only likely chance you have to get paid. Will you do it?”

  Sullen, they nodded.

  “Excellent. We have a carriage out front.”

  * * *

  “She’s here somewhere,” Tensford said reasonably. They had all drawn close together, the better to hear. “She came early, with Mrs. Caradec.”

  “Penelope seemed off to me, when I saw her just before she went to dress,” the countess said. “Tense.” She narrowed her gaze at Sterne. “Did you see her this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” he answered tersely. He’d be damned if he said more. “What is she wearing? What is her costume?”

  Lady Tensford didn’t answer, she just stared intently at him.

  “A peacock,” the earl answered at last. “It’s a crush in here. We’ll find her soon enough.”

  “I’m going to search her out,” the countess declared. “There’s something odd here. I don’t like it.” She scanned the room—what they could see of it. “Is that Miss Nichols? I’ll ask if she’s seen any sign of them.” She squeezed her husband’s hand, then pushed off into the throng.

  Tensford raised a brow at him. “Well, go on. I know you want to charge out and look for her too.”

  Sterne shifted his weight. He did. And he didn’t. “I’ve been sticking close to that door,” he said, indicating it. “That’s where the auction and the ‘reveal’ are set up. It’s locked, as none of us are to be admitted until after the general unmasking at midnight. But someone is bound to go in sometime, don’t you think? Either Rowland will take his cronies in or a servant will go in to see that everything is prepared . . .”

  “You are likely right.” Tensford looked interested now. “But go ahead. I’ll stay here and watch while you make the rounds.”

  Sterne hesitated, but he couldn’t resist. He sent his friend a grateful look and struck out.

  All the devils in hell, but there were even more guests squeezed in the place now. Color and sparkle shone everywhere. Champagne flowed. Rowland would need a river of it to slake the thirst of everyone here. He made his way through the crowd. Scholars mixed with scientists and men of society and they all wore costumes of every stamp. Women ranged from dairy maids to Virgin Queens. He saw two Isaac Newtons, several Italian Renaissance painters and someone dressed as the sun, with a stunning gold and ruby mask. Birds too. He passed an albatross and a parrot. But no peacock.

  Frustrated, he made his way back to Tensford. “Any activity?”

  The earl shook his head. “Not yet. You didn’t see her?”

  “No.” He sighed. “She may be deliberately hiding from me, though.”

  “Ah, Hope was right, then. You two had a disagreement?”

  He only nodded and crossed his arms and leaned back against a wal
l.

  “You know,” Tensford mused. “You gave me some very good advice, back when I came to Town, searching for a bride. I thought I needed money for Greystone, more than anything else. It was because of what you said that I chose Hope, even though I believed her to have only a small dowry and though I knew we would have to make hard choices.” He leaned in. “Must I remind you now to take your own advice?”

  Sterne brooded.

  The earl waited.

  “No,” he answered at last. “I know you are right. She is right—about nearly everything.”

  “What is she right about?” his friend asked gently.

  “All of it. How I feel. How she feels. How right we could be together. Damn it, I love her. I tried not to. I’m nowhere near worthy of her, not even close to ready to give her the life she deserves.”

  “The life she requires?” Tensford said with a laugh.

  “That was a mistake. I knew it as soon as it came out of my mouth. I should not have phrased it so. But there is one thing she is not right about.”

  Tensford waited.

  Sterne brooded.

  “I do not view her as I do my mother,” he insisted.

  “What?” That startled the earl.

  “I know! Ridiculous. Shouldn’t I worry that her feelings may change? That resentment and disaffection might grow if we must live on her dowry, in a set of rooms instead of a manor, with no servants or luxuries?”

  “Sterne. Stop,” Tensford ordered.

  “She’s wrong, isn’t she?”

  “Utterly. Yes.”

  “I knew it.”

  “In this vignette, Sterne, you have taken on the role of your mother.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “It’s true, I’m afraid. Here you are, thinking that love demands perfection. That it will be withheld if the Grand Plan in your mind is not adhered to, step by step.”

  His head spun.

  “I recognize the situation, because you are doing the same thing to me,” Tensford said directly.

  His arms dropped. He couldn’t step back, he was already pressed against the wall.

  “I do not blame you for the loss of that damned fossil, Sterne. I’ve told you so. It wasn’t your fault. Even if it had been lost due to some extreme negligence on your part, still, it would not affect our relationship. Yes, I might cuff you on the head and give you a good cursing for a moment, but you would still be one of my closest friends. To all intents and purposes, you are my brother, Sterne. I intend to entrust the guidance of my son—or daughter—to you. You are not perfect. None of us are. We don’t ask it of you, just as you should not ask it of us. We work fine—the lot of us—in our own odd ways. Nothing will ever change that.”

  He stared at his friend, his mind whirling.

  “Now, all of those months ago, you gave me some excellent advice. You bade me imagine my life with Hope. And to imagine it without her. Why don’t you do the same with Penelope?”

  Everything in him shied away. He didn’t want to think of a life without her bright mind, interesting observations, her quick wit and ready smile. He wanted her—

  “Never mind.” Tensford put a hand on his shoulder. “Think of it later. Look, Sterne!” His voice was rough with excitement. “You were right! A servant just went into that room!”

  With difficulty, he dragged his head and heart back into the ballroom. “Let’s go.”

  They rushed to the door, but it had closed again, with the servant inside.

  “Try the latch—quietly,” Sterne said. “I’ll block you from view.”

  “Locked.”

  “Then we wait.”

  They stood, facing outward, trying to look as if they were observing the spectacle. Sterne was vibrating, with tension, and with reaction to everything Tensford had said.

  Behind them, the rattle of keys sounded.

  “Ready . . .” Tensford said under his breath.

  The door opened, just a crack. Sterne stepped back and forced his way in. Sliding inside, he pushed the footman back and grabbed the key from the door. He forced the man back further, to make room for Tensford.

  “Here, now! What’s this?” the servant objected. “You’re not meant to—”

  Tensford came in and pushed the man out into the ballroom. Sterne closed the door and locked it again. They stared at each other, both breathing quickly, and they turned together to face the room.

  The servant must have entered to light the place. It looked much like one of the fossil rooms in the British Museum. There were fewer specimens, but there were all sorts, small and large, plant and animal. The difference was—at least some of these would be for sale, Sterne supposed.

  But the centerpiece was well lit and had been designed to draw every eye. It was large, by far the largest piece in the room. Taller than it was wide, it stood on an easel that must have been specially constructed. It was covered.

  Together, they stepped toward it.

  They looked at each other, solemn, even as the footman knocked continuously, but discreetly, on the door, trying to get back in before he was found out, perhaps.

  Tensford nodded.

  Sterne reached out and yanked the covering away.

  He froze.

  The earl breathed out.

  It wasn’t Tensford’s great fish.

  It looked like . . .

  “Footprints,” Tensford breathed. “Preserved in rock. Think of it, all of these years. They must have lasted centuries.”

  “What made them?” Sterne asked. “They look almost like the prints of a salamander, the sort you’d find in the river mud.”

  “Bigger than a salamander,” Tensford said in awe. “They’ll go wild. That lot out there. They’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Tensford,” Sterne said low. “Where the hell is your fish?”

  “I don’t know.” The earl sighed. “I’m beginning not to care.”

  Sterne still stared up at the thing. “She was right. Damn it all. She was right about everything.” Turning, he unlocked the door and rushed past the sputtering footman into the ballroom. Tensford followed on his heels.

  “We have to find her,” he growled.

  “We will.”

  They pushed through the throng. People grumbled, but gave way. Suddenly, Sterne realized they’d picked up a follower.

  “What are you doing?” Lady Lowell demanded as she trailed in their wake. “Tensford, is that you? Tensford?”

  “There!” The earl had spotted his wife. She stood across the room. Penelope, in her peacock costume, stood with her.

  Sterne started toward them. Tensford and Lady Lowell came behind him. Halfway there, he stopped. The earl bumped into him from behind.

  “That’s not her.” There was something about the woman who stood with the countess. The way she moved and held her head. The angle of her jaw beneath the mask. “That’s not Penelope.”

  He surged forward again and stopped before the two women. “Where is she?” he demanded. “Where is Penelope?”

  The woman moved the mask away from her face.

  Mrs. Caradec.

  His heart was going to pound out of his chest. “Lycett. She went after him, didn’t she? Where is she?” It was almost a shout.

  “She is fine. Whiddon is with her,” the woman answered calmly.

  “Where? Never mind. Let’s go. You can tell me on the way.”

  “We’ll all go,” Tensford said.

  “What?” Lady Lowell was looking between them all with growing alarm. “No. You cannot go, Tensford.” She gestured behind them and glanced back toward the exhibition room. “You must see the unveiling!” She looked back again. As the crowd parted, it was clear to see the door was still open. “Wait. No. Surely you don’t want your wife to miss the big moment. It’s all prepared. Come and see it, first, before you go,” she wheedled.

  They were all heading toward the door as she continued to protest. Sterne looked back once to see her face gone red and her foot stomp like
a child’s.

  He turned away, already calling for a carriage.

  Chapter 18

  “You are sure? That is it?” Penelope asked. The carriage was passing slowly by the house that the Curtis brothers pointed out. The scarred brother rode up with the driver, while the other sat inside the carriage with her and Ruby. They were on Pall Mall Street, close to St. James’s Palace. The houses here were older, but still very fine.

  “That’s it,” her passenger confirmed. “But listen, you did well enough, outsmarting your cousin. But he’s a bit of a bird wit, ain’t he?” He gestured toward the house. “These people are different. They are not stupid. Nor safe.”

  The carriage pulled to the side of the road several houses away. The scarred brother opened the door and they all climbed out.

  “Looks dark,” Ruby said. “Likely no one is at home.”

  The scarred Curtis spat in the street. “More luck to you.”

  “And you don’t know their names?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “It’s better not to know,” his brother added.

  “Did you deliver the fossil inside?”

  “Yes. They were all prepared for us.”

  “Prepared?”

  “Aye. They have a man, a servant. They call him Samseh, or something like. He made the arrangements with Lycett. He was waiting for us at a back entrance. He took us up a servant’s staircase and to the main floor, to the library.”

  “Except we didn’t leave it in the library. They had an honest to God secret door, behind a bookcase. The room back there was big. It was full of different things. All on display, sort of. They had a place all set and ready for the fossil. All we had to do was hang it.”

  Penelope frowned. “Were they also fossils, the other displays?”

  “No. Not a one of them. Ours was the only one. The others—I could not see how they all went together. There was all sorts of things. Strange things. A fancy book. A sword.”

  “Things that made a shiver go up your back, like the bones of a hand—just a hand.” His brother shuddered.