“I’m sure your associate was able to report back accurately.” Victoria returned Mr. Durnish’s blank look.
“I have no associates,” Mr. Durnish said flatly, his hands fluttering around the sparkling object in his hand.
Victoria looked away and searched for a place to sit. If Mr. Durnish was going to deny the meeting she was not going to discuss it. Seeing no help from him, she selected one of the brown hessian-covered chairs and sat on its edge. “I really feel you should sit down, Mr. Durnish, for what I will tell you. You may find it upsetting.”
Mr. Durnish raised his lips and showed his teeth in what must have passed as his attempt to smile. He backed away into the corner and sat back in the chair he had vacated. Shoving the sparkling item in his pocket, he steepled his fingers in front of him and nodded. “Please tell me what you have found out.”
Victoria pursed her lips. “Firstly, might I confirm that your real name is not Durnish?”
Mr. Durnish nodded. “Hated the name Butterworth. Changed it early when I entered the navy. Got a lot of flack for the surname. Durnish seemed boring enough to be going along with.”
“And your first name is?”
“You tell me.”
“I believe it to be Paul.”
Mr. Durnish showed his teeth again. “Very good. You have been doing your homework.”
Victoria was suddenly overwhelmed. This man seemed very much like a jackal. Why did Eustacia’s story of how people’s belongings disappeared resurface now? The quicker she was in and out the better. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“I’m sure you do,” he muttered.
“I regret to inform you, Mr. Durnish, that your brother died shortly after you left for the navy. I understand you even came back for the funeral.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“An associate of mine has had sight of his death record. Unfortunately your brother was killed by a gunshot to the head and the killer was never found.”
“I still don’t believe it.”
Victoria pulled at her dress slightly. “Mr. Durnish, if you do not believe in the facts that I am telling you then perhaps you should engage for another investigation to take place. I however will not be free to investigate it.” She stood and swept towards the door. “And one other thing, I would get your maids to sweep the grate. Unburnt ashes can get trodden into the carpet so easily.”
“I don’t have any maids. Just footmen. I haven’t yet managed to look for any maids. I might not do. The footmen work twice as hard as the women.”
Victoria stopped to open the brown room’s door. He still didn’t have any maids? But he had been touring the orphanages for that very thing, staff for his new house in Kensington. She gasped as hot breath blew in her ear.
“What is rule number six?”
She froze. She had heard that voice before. She had heard that question before. She must be dreaming.
“What are you going to do now, Victoria? Rule number three or four? Keep up appearances… act like nothing has happened?”
“I am not sure what you are talking about.” Thrusting her hand out, Victoria managed to connect with the door handle the first time and yanked hard at the wood. The door jerked open and slammed against the shoulder of the man breathing in her ear. “But I’m sure I could give you a rule if you asked for it.” Rule number thirteen, which Victoria was about to invent. “Beware the woman with the brass hair pin.”
Before she had finished her sentence, she pulled one of the pins from her head and stabbed in the general direction of the man’s shoulder. With a loud cry, Mr. Durnish fell back, clutching at his neck. What a shame, she had miscalculated. The door must have pushed him back further into the room than she realized.
“I do not think we will be meeting each other for a while, Mr. Durnish. You or your younger impersonator. Make sure you stay out of my way. Or you will find that I am just as dangerous as your… your…” Victoria couldn’t finish. He hadn’t threatened her. He hadn’t even touched her. He had just made her feel extremely uncomfortable. And invaded her personal space. And he knew about the rules. She formed the words again. “You will find I am as dangerous as you.”
Without a backward glance, she hurried into the hall, pushing past the butler as she did so. Another gentleman stood waiting in the hall. As she bore down on him, he tried to pull his hat low on his head, but his tall cravat pushed the flesh up on his chin, giving him the uncanny appearance of a frog. He was instantly recognizable.
“Mr. Cryne.” Victoria nodded and swept past. She didn’t want to spend any longer than was necessary in the house. Even though it was new, already it seemed to have taken on an atmosphere of menace.
CHAPTER 16
The back room to Lord Lassiter’s mansion was the only room in the house not filled with antiques.
“It’s all junk, Freddie, I’m telling you, I don’t even understand why you’ve got me polishing this armor.” Bill was saddle-sore and weary. He had taken leave of the Unusual Oddities, pleading a need to see his sweetheart. They had been reluctant to let him go, but when he had pointed out that he had fixed every cart, shod every horse and done many more things besides, they had made a few jokes about his lady love and set him on his way.
Little did he know that as soon as he arrived back at his home from home in London, he would be pushed into completing a maid’s work.
“It’s not rubbish, Bill.” Freddie sniffed. “Trust you not to know the difference between a fifteenth century piece of armor worn by Henry the Eighth and a piece of junk. Have you had no education?”
“As it happens—”
“Look I’m sorry, Bill, I should have known better. I’m finding it rather… difficult at the moment.”
“Leg hurting still?”
“No. Worse than that. I’ve stopped drinking.”
“Ah.”
“Yes. Never knew that not having brandy with breakfast could cause a headache at elevenses. Not having a rum at elevenses could cause a migraine at…”
“I understand.”
“I’m not sure you do, old man. No one does.”
“What you do is your own—”
“You see they gave me laudanum to start with to cope with the pain. Made me float away on most days. Extraordinarily wonderful feeling that. But then I met a Chinaman who sold me some of these vases.” Freddie gestured around the room. “He said they had been used to carry opium, and did I know that opium was one of the most addictive of drugs and that it was contained in laudanum.” Freddie banged on the table with his polishing rag. “Damnit, Bill, he didn’t know I was taking the stuff. He said that opium turned people into vegetables. That after a while they couldn’t survive without it, and their eyes turned dead.”
Bill gazed at his reflection in the breastplate of the armor. Freddie had never talked like this before. “I think if you become dependent on many things you think you cannot survive without them,” he said quietly.
“Like you and your damn chip on your shoulder about your background.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, forget what I said. Anyway, I dropped the laudanum and started drinking. But the Chinaman never said anything about alcohol being so addictive. I’m not sure which I like the least, the fact that at least with opium I could float away, whereas with the alcohol I’m still here in the present.”
“At least with the opium you wouldn’t have had me polishing armor after a ten hour horse ride.” Bill shifted in his seat. Just thinking about it made him conscious of places where the saddle had rubbed.
Freddie laughed. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep my mind off having another drink. And it’s nicer to do it in company. I’m not sure how you make people talk, Bill, but it just seems to happen around you.”
Bill shrugged. He made friends with everyone—he had to, he still didn’t know his place in life. And if you didn’t put too much pressure on people, and said very little, sooner or later they ended up telling you the st
ory of their life. Like the place where he had stopped for a hasty bite to eat on the road back to London. The landlord had served him with a grunt, but even so, Bill had asked him how business was faring. The landlord had stared at him, and when it seemed he wouldn’t answer, Bill had shrugged his shoulders and gone back to eating. But then the landlord had stopped polishing the pint glasses and moved out from behind the bar. And once he started, it seemed he wouldn’t stop.
Bill hadn’t been particularly interested in the doings of the landlord’s seemingly large family, but he had been interested to hear that an unknown woman with ‘skin darker than strong ale’ had been found naked in a ditch not five hundred yards from the inn’s front door She had bite marks all over her shoulders, the landlord had whispered. And yes, he had always had some strange coves staying on their way up to London. Why only recently there had been a man who had refused to remove his enormous top hat, and someone that looked very much like his son.
Bill scrubbed hard at the armor with his rag, polishing till the metal gleamed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he hadn’t let Pedro go, then Dana wouldn’t be dead.
A knock on the door caused both men to put down their polishing rags with a sigh. Willson, Freddie’s butler appeared.
“Begging your pardon my lord… sir, Lady Colchester is at the door again. Looks like she has a bee in her bonnet about something. Wants to see Mr. Standish, alone, she said.”
“Oo er,” Freddie said, standing. “Whatever have you done this time, Bill?”
“What could I have done?”
“Considering you told her she led an empty life at the end of your last meeting with her…”
“But she does.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m sure you’ve always told me not to jump to any conclusions.”
Bill snorted. What else could Lady Colchester be apart from a highborn lady with little else to do? A lady who makes my blood run hot, that’s who.
“I’ll send her in,” Freddie said into the silence.
“What? Oh yes, of course.” A sudden wave of tiredness overcame Bill. He had had all these grand plans with which he was going to trap Victoria, to get her right where he wanted her, but he hadn’t counted on her appearing before he could put anything into motion.
“Mr. Standish. We meet again.”
Bill sighed and tried to stand, but his legs had turned to jelly from the bruising ride through the Chiltern Hills and into London.
“No, no, don’t get up. I have you right where I want you.”
Bill’s head jerked. Was she saying aloud his thoughts? His eyes met hers. She was a vision of perfection, her dress sparkled in the light of the late afternoon, her hair caressed by the failing sun. A small lock of hair hung sultrily over her face. How long had it taken her to perfect that look? It was heartstoppingly sensual.
“Mr. Standish, I wish to…”
“Come here,” Bill growled. He couldn’t believe it as Victoria willingly walked towards him. Where were the protests of Francesco’s café? As she stopped beside him, he leaned back and looked upwards along her curves. He shifted his seat out with a jerk. “Sit down,” he said huskily.
Victoria lowered herself primly onto his lap.
And he sat stunned as she leaned in towards him and ran a cat-like tongue across his lips.
“Lady Colchester, I…”
“Victoria,” she corrected, bringing her hand up to take away the polishing rag from his unresisting hand.
“Victoria, I mmmf mff.” He couldn’t speak. It was hard to as the beautiful woman leaned forward again and pressed her lips against his. His mouth parted hungrily, but she leaned back again. Then, seeming to change her mind, she leaned forward and pressed her breasts against his chest. His body shivered in response as she spoke into his ear.
“I have been waiting for my third dose of treatment,” she murmured, shifting slightly. Bill groaned. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
“Third dose?” he murmured, hearing the slight quaver to his voice.
“It was very clever of you to seduce me in a public place. A masterful treatment. I would never have thought of it.”
He wouldn’t have thought of it either. Treatment or no, he just hadn’t been able to stop himself.
“And just as a doctor practices on his patient, so must the patient practice in order to get better.”
Dammit. Now she was kissing the underside of his jaw. Had he really done that to her? He couldn’t think.
“And so I have another proposition for you.”
“Wha—”
“One I think you might be amenable to.”
“Amena—” Oh God, not there. Bill sighed as she kissed behind his earlobe, and groaned audibly as she shifted position again.
She drew back looking concerned. “Are you alright, Bill? I haven’t even put my proposition forward yet.”
She really didn’t have any idea, did she? Encircling her shoulders with a massive arm, Bill tipped her backwards and feasted on the creamy flesh along her collar bone.
“Goodness. That. Is. Certainly. Part. Of. The. Proposition.” Victoria panted. “I hadn’t expected—ooh—my third dose of treatment to start so… quickly.” Victoria’s head dropped back.
Bill gently brought Victoria back upright and kissed her on the nose.
“Why did you stop?” she said plaintively. “I was enjoying myself.”
Bill smirked. Give them a little and they took a mile. Perhaps he did have her where he wanted her…
“Perhaps now is as good a time as any to put my proposition forward to you.”
Bill kissed her on the nose again. She was adorable in many ways. It was hard to remember that she was yet another snobby upper class woman.
“I would like to enter into a no strings attached relationship with you whereby you will give me treatment at the times when I demand it.”
“What?”
CHAPTER 17
Victoria let out an undignified squawk as Bill stood suddenly, tipping her to the floor.
“Ooof! What did you do that for?”
“No, no no! Absolutely not.” Bill towered over her, his hands clenching and unclenching. Suddenly he groaned and collapsed back into the chair. “Good grief, Victoria, whatever are you thinking?”
Well, at the moment she was thinking how much her bottom hurt, thank you very much. It certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction she had been expecting. Surely a man would jump at the chance to have a relationship with no expectations with a lady such as herself?
“I’m not sure I quite understand.”
“You can’t just tour around asking gentlemen to enter into no strings attached relationships!”
Victoria frowned and gathered her skirts together to aid in standing up. Did this mean that he didn’t like her in that way? She looked up into his face to see his eyes feasting on the indecent amount of ankle she had exposed. Silly question. He couldn’t deny their attraction.
“Whyever not?” she said briskly. Really, sitting on the floor was not a powerful position to enter into this conversation.
“Because—”
“As far as I understand it.” Victoria laid a hand on the edge of the table and hauled herself to her feet, making sure to thrust her chest out in Bill’s direction. She smiled as his eyes bulged slightly. “As far as I understand it, it is normally the man that offers the woman the carte blanche. However, in this case it is a woman asking a man. I really don’t understand the difference.”
“Yes but normally the carte blanche is offered to courtesans, older women and…”
“Widows. Of which I am one.”
“Ah. Yes.” Bill covered his eyes with his hands and leaned forward, muttering. Victoria took the opportunity to draw up another chair. As she sat, she couldn’t help admiring the way his breeches stretched across his muscular thighs. He really didn’t seem too happy with the proposition.
She jerked in surprise as she realized that he had turned to look a
t her once again. Guiltily she drew her eyes away from examining his form and smiled, cocking her head on one side in what she hoped was a winsome way. “So what is your answer?”
She didn’t like the smile that spread across Bill’s darkly handsome face. It wasn’t the eager smile of a man willing to do her bidding that she could control. Nor the kindly smile of a man that agreed with her plans. His teeth seemed to grin wolfishly at her, and his brown eyes were as hard as oak.
“I have a counter proposition.” Bill wiped the remains of polish from his hands and stood. Victoria shrank slightly in her chair. He leaned over her and dabbed lightly with the rag at her collarbone where earlier his hands and lips had traced a light tattoo. Victoria drew in a breath and shut her eyes.
“You agree to marry me,” he whispered.
“What?” Victoria sat bolt upright and collapsed back as her forehead encountered the bridge of Bill’s nose. “Ow. Ow ow. Damnation”.
“Wha di’ you do tha vor again?” Bill moaned, clutching at his face. “I only ask oo to marry e.”
“Only asked me to marry you?” Victoria repeated in translation. “It’s not every day a woman is asked for her hand in marriage after offering a carte blanche.”
“No many omen offer arte lanche,” Bill said, clutching his nose. “I think you’ve oken it.”
“Oken what?” Victoria said starting to giggle.
“My dose!”
Victoria’s giggle turned into a full blown squawk of laughter. She held her sides as tears began to run down her face. She couldn’t stop, even when the door opened and Freddie trotted in.
“What’s going on, is everything alright? Lady Colchester, can I get you something, you sound in pain. Bill, help her, oh. Oh. I see.”
“She oke my dose,” Bill said mournfully, clutching the polishing rag to his face where blood had started to seep through.
Freddie put his hands on his hips. “Ha. Whatever did you say to her?”
“I asked er to marry e.”
Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) Page 14