Aggie snuffed the candle and turned to the door, her heart heavy in her chest. Grabbing the knob, she glanced back at her mother, now illuminated in the hall light.
Maybe, just maybe, if her father’s murderers were brought to justice, the mother she had known and loved might resurface, if only just partially. Aggie would give anything to make that happen.
Aggie stepped into the hallway and quietly closed the door. She moved on to her sister’s room. All was dark, and her sister was in bed, her breathing deep and even. Aggie turned to leave the room.
“Aggie—wait. Are you leaving again tonight?”
Aggie froze, her hand on the doorknob. She didn’t turn around. “What do you mean, ‘leave’?”
“Go out again—where do you go? I have seen you leave in those clothes. Those boy clothes. I worry.” Her sister’s voice sounded scared and so very young.
Aggie turned as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw her sister sitting up in the four-post bed. She walked over and seated herself next to Lizzie. “It really is nothing to worry about, Lizzie.” Aggie smoothed a strand of curly blond hair out of her sister’s face.
“I just have to go out sometimes. Do not fret.” Aggie tried to infuse some enthusiasm into her voice. “We will soon be leaving London to go back to Clapinshire.”
“But why do you have to leave at night?”
Aggie sighed. She didn’t want to lie to Lizzie, but there was no way she would ever tell her the full truth. A half-truth would have to do. “I am looking for a way to help mother.”
Lizzie’s eyes turned solemn. “Mother,” she nodded. “I understand.”
Aggie kissed her cheek and stood up. “Now get some sleep and do not worry. Everything will be just fine. Oh, and Aunt Beatrix and Uncle Howard probably do not need to hear about this, all right? I do not want to worry either of them, all right?”
“All right.” Lizzie snuggled back under the covers that Aggie tucked around her.
Aggie moved across the room to leave.
“Aggie?”
“Yes?”
“Will Mama get better?”
Aggie forced a bright smile on her face, even as her heart broke for her little sister. “I hope so, Lizzie. I really hope so.”
She closed the door and then leaned back against it. Her sister was too old for a nine-year-old. She had lost too much in her short life, and Aggie was determined that her sister’s life be as normal as possible. She would allow no more loss to enter into Lizzie’s already fragmented world.
Aggie knew she was a terrible substitute for a mother, but if she could give Lizzie that—that one thing—a life where she lost no more people she loved, then Aggie would be happy.
Wiping the corners of her wet eyes, Aggie moved back to her room. Quickly stripping down to her chemise, she went to her wardrobe. Digging down to the bottom, an exasperated smile appeared as she pulled out her recently washed and pressed shirt and breeches, along with her now-clean, tall, black boots and cape. Her maid. Never asking, never telling. She didn’t pay her nearly enough.
Sitting on the bed, one candle lit next to her, Aggie pulled on the black breeches, then stood and gave a few quick jumps on her toes, relishing the comfort of them, even if they did fit a bit too snugly at the hips.
She pulled on the shirt, laced up the tall boots, and attached the large dark cloak about her. Onto her knees, she pulled a wooden box from under her bed.
Opening it, she grabbed the tin that kept the soot, and she spread the blackness heavily under her eyes for a sunken-eye look, then across her chin, forehead, and cheeks for the filthiest of appearances.
Pulling pins from her hair, she tousled her hair down from her upsweep, and retwisted it tightly, pinning it up and tucking it under the black cap she had swiped from the stables several weeks ago.
Going back to the wooden box, she pulled six pistols, one by one from their neat holders in the box. She checked each for a bullet and gun-powder, then strapped one above her left boot and one higher up on her right thigh. The other four pistols went securely into special pockets she had sewn into her cloak.
Stepping over to the mirror to study her costume, she was, as always, quite pleased with the entire effect. She looked like a skinny, dirty, down-on-his-luck hack driver. And she knew with a splash of brandy onto her cloak on the way out of the house, her smell would complete the disguise.
Aggie made her way out through the gardens and slipped through the back gate. Scurrying through the blocks of courtyards and alleys, she stopped behind the nearby stables. Tommy, the young apprentice to the Bow Street runner she had hired to help her gather information on her father’s murderers, waited outside for her. Sunshine was already hitched to the carriage.
She had hired Tommy when she realized she would need someone discreet to ready her coach and horse every night. Tommy was a young lad, a bit scruffy, but he had the most intelligent eyes. Aggie liked him very much.
“Evening, my lady.” Tommy’s cap came off as he greeted her with his usual grin, which quickly turned into a determined look. She knew what was coming.
“My lady, I know it is not me business. I know what your answer will be. But I worry on your safety, my lady. You know well that there be plenty of men who can do this business for you.”
He tightened his cap back on his head. “Just hire one of ‘em, please, my lady. It could save you from much harm. And me from much guilt.”
He did this every night she went out as a hack driver. And every night, he failed at getting her to veer off-course.
“Tommy, you know full well why I do this myself. I do not want any man being hurt or killed because of a confusion,” she said, keeping the reprimand in her voice to a minimum. “I am the only one who can recognize these men for certain, and I will not risk someone else’s safety, or the possibility that the job will not get done, just because I am scared or could get hurt.”
His gaze fell downward. Aggie softened her tone. “Tommy, I realize you are only looking out for my best interest. And I know you believe I am in constant peril, but you must not worry. I know what I am up to, and I know how to protect myself.”
He looked back up at her, worry still evident, but wanting to believe what she said.
“Your help has been invaluable to me, and the best way you can help me is to continue to find out as much as you can about the last two men and keep the coach and horse a secret.”
Aggie put on her brightest smile. “I really do not know how I could continue safely without your help, Tommy.”
That always got him, as she knew it would. He sheepishly grinned and apologized for questioning her plans. Aggie went to rub Sunshine’s nose.
“But, my lady?”
“Yes?”
“At least let me accompany you for protection’s sake?”
Aggie smiled at his question. It was always ask her not to go, then ask if he could come with. She walked to the front of the carriage.
“Tommy, you know I am counting on you to put in place the plan to protect my mother and sister if something should happen to me. You are the only person I can trust to do that without fail.”
Resigned, Tommy shook his head. “Yes, my lady. Don’t you worry nothing about your family.”
Aggie smiled over his loyalty, handed him a small reticule full of coins, and turned to crawl up to the driver’s perch.
“One more thing Tommy.” Aggie looked down at her young friend with hope on her face. “Have you or your boss discovered out anything at all about the fifth man—the gentleman?”
Tommy’s answer was the same as it had been since she had first hired him and his boss, and every time she had asked since then.
“No, my lady. I am sorry.”
Aggie nodded in resignation, bothered once more that the man hadn’t been found. It would seem that their leader was impossible to track, and the longer Aggie knew nothing of him, except for his evil face, the harder it would be to find him. Especially if she disposed of the o
ther two.
If she couldn’t get one of the last two murderers to tell her about their boss, she knew peace would be forever elusive. She could not rest until their leader was brought to justice.
With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Aggie thanked Tommy, and clicked Sunshine forward. She rambled off down the cobblestones, Tommy looking after her, admiration shining plainly on his face.
~~~
She had been gone from the ball for only moments before Devin found himself clear to make it to Killian. Both men had been deluged for some time by gentlemen eager to gain an ear to talk investments.
After watching Aggie scurry back to her aunt, Devin hadn’t been back in the ballroom a minute before five men surrounded him, intent on gaining his attention.
He gave it to them, partially, while the majority of his mind worked on the slip of a girl that stood across the room from him, her face never fully losing the blush from the balcony.
She had been impossibly easy to find. Too easy, for a woman attempting to go undercover as a hack driver. He originally thought he’d talk to the girl, tell her he would handle the two remaining men. And that would be it. Maybe a dalliance if she was amicable.
But all that changed the moment she called him a coward. Not because of the insult, but because he realized how desperate she was. Only desperation would make her toss out lies like that. She lied about him being a coward. She lied about her brother. He could already read that in her.
Desperate people lied. And desperate people did stupid things. Like flick the ear of a duke. Like stick to a stupid plan, because it was the only thing to hold onto.
Devin rubbed his ear—the flick had actually stung. And then she had tried to blackmail him into silence. The little wench.
His eyes narrowed at her. He wasn’t going to let her succeed at stupidity. She needed to be protected from herself, whether she liked it or not.
Devin wondered how long it would take her to produce the necessary excuses to leave the party.
He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, he saw her rub her temples in a distressed motion, and her aunt’s immediate sympathetic face. The aunt rushed off to find her husband, and within minutes, the party of three made their way up the grand staircase and out of the ballroom.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Devin nodded to the four men surrounding him and stepped away to find Killian.
“Killian.” Devin motioned to his friend.
“We shall continue this at another time, gentlemen.” Killian nodded to the group and stepped from the ring of men.
The two friends walked up the staircase and paused at a quiet balcony overlooking the ballroom. Both leaned on the gold-leafed railing, looking absently out at the hall of gaiety before them.
“Whatever you said to her on the terrace must have been interesting, for she could barely contain her need to leave, or hold in the arrows her pretty eyes were throwing your way,” Killian said, and took a sip of the Madeira he was holding.
“She called me a coward.”
Killian sputtered and laughed. “A coward? What I would have given to hear that. Really? A coward? And your reaction?”
“Threats.”
“Typical.” Killian turned sideways, leaning on his arm as he looked at Devin. “Is it time to leave, then?”
“Soon. Is your business done?”
“Yes, enough for the night.” Killian curiously eyed his friend. “She appears to be fine marriage material.”
“Who?”
“Lady Augustine.”
Devin shot his own daggers at Killian. “Yes, if you discount her panache for dressing up as a hack driver and trying to take down four men, each twice her size.”
“Lends a certain charm to her, would you not say?” Killian took another sip of his wine. “We all, eventually, have duty to our lineage, Devin. An heir might be something you want to think about.”
Devin harrumphed, stood straight, and turned toward the upper entrance of the ballroom. “Let us take our leave—if only to cease your idiotic insinuations.”
Killian followed Devin, speculative smile playing on his face. “We have a coach to catch, don’t we?”
{ Chapter 6 }
The night plodded along slowly. Rain had sputtered on and off. Her cloak kept her mostly dry, but her search thus far had remained completely fruitless.
Some insistent young dandies, deep into their cups and rich with the need to lose their families’ fortunes, managed to stop Aggie. They tumbled into the moving carriage before she could stop them.
With a sigh, she started off to the Horn’s Rooster, knowing that, of the gaming halls, it was one of the best for drunken young men of the peerage to go. The owner was of the good sort; she had seen him send many on their way before fortunes were lost on the flick of a card.
It was odd, the knowledge she had gained from the streets of London. If nothing else, this had forced her into a much wider view of the world than she had ever known.
The Horn’s Rooster teetered on the edge of the east side, which was convenient—she would still have time to go back and poke around near the area where she had found the murderers.
Scouring the east end from her hackney perch was an inescapable part of finding the murderers, and she hated the sort of fares she was inevitably forced to pick up in that part of town. The drunkest of the drunks. The stench from within, and the cleaning that had to be done once a drunk spilled his night’s supper on the floor of the carriage was disgusting. And it seemed to happen to her at least every other night.
Aggie dropped her fares at the Horn’s Rooster, lucky to be rid of them so quickly, and nicked Sunshine along. Her favorite horse since seventeen, Sunshine was a key component in her plan, for Sunshine, without fail, obeyed every command of Aggie’s. She had not realized how indispensable that bit of foresight had been until the previous night. In the country, Sunshine usually accompanied Aggie when she went out to practice her shot, so the horse was used to the sudden cracks of gunfire.
Trotting the white speckled horse down one of the rank streets of the east side, Aggie felt the first drops of more rain. She rolled her eyes as she adjusted the hood of her cloak.
At that moment, two men stumbled out in front of Aggie from a well-known brothel. Their rich clothes hung haphazardly about them, and their bawdy laughter filled the already loud street.
One of them was obviously very intoxicated, bent over, head hanging low, and struggling to keep upright as he staggered across the street. The other man seemed a bit more sober, helping his friend. The semi-sober man hailed her. They blocked her path and gave her no choice but to stop.
Aggie tensed, as always, when she took on a new fare. Her left hand held the reins, while she slipped off her glove and hovered her right hand over one of the pistols hidden in the depths of her dark cloak. Caution was key; there had been several times when she had barely escaped being mugged—or worse—from an unscrupulous patron.
These two men seemed benign. Aside from their unkempt clothing, they were obviously men of society. She looked down, suspicion evident, at the two men.
“Evening, hack,” the semi-sober man said, high spirits in his voice. “It would seem my friend here needs a bit of help gaining transportation home. I would take him myself, of course, but I have not exactly finished of my pleasures here tonight.” He nodded back over his shoulder.
The drunk friend started bellowing a raunchy song, aimed at the cobblestones. Words incoherent, it sounded more reminiscent of a howling dog than an actual tune.
“Yuss, sir,” Aggie said in a low, slurred tone. She produced a pathetic cough for effect. “Jus ees long as he don’t spackle in me coach.”
The man laughed as he shoved his still bellowing friend into the carriage. “No, I reckon he will be fine, at least until he makes his residence.”
The man gave Aggie the address and a few coins, and quickly stepped back into the brothel. She could hear raucous music and high-pitched laughter blaring into the night w
hen the door opened.
She hesitated at the sound, thinking of her own innocence when she had first started charading as a hack driver. She knew the streets in the better parts of London well enough, but had to memorize maps of the areas she had never dared go into before, imagining that she would have to search hardest in those areas to find her father’s killers.
But nothing had prepared her for the poverty or the lack of morals she now saw on a near-nightly basis. It had taken her several trips to a certain red-bricked building to realize that she was dropping off her fares, all men, at a brothel.
It hadn’t been until the third trip that Aggie had actually registered the fact that there were a peculiar number of scantily-clad women milling about the front steps and lounging on one of the two well-lit balconies. That was where she had gotten her first proposition as a man. She’d passed on the offer, head tucked down.
She recognized such buildings now, and knew what they were for, but that didn’t stop her from wondering, ears reddened, what exactly went on in such houses. Hearing certain words tossed at her from the balconies only got her so far in her imagination, and she was beginning to wonder just how many holes were actually on the human body. What her mother had told her years ago bore no resemblance to the harlot speak she heard night after night.
The bellowing behind her slowly tapered off, and she guessed the man was working on passing out. Aggie shook her head. Men and their carnal pleasures—after what she had seen on the streets, she wasn’t so sorry that she never got married.
She clicked Sunshine on, her clomping hooves on the cobblestones echoing down the empty street. At least the drizzle had died off. It was late and only a few hours from sunrise. She wasn’t going to find the remaining two murderers that night.
Get this fare home, and, for a change, she would bow to the needs of her exhausted body and be home before sunrise to get some much needed sleep.
Tap, tap, tap.
Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke Page 6