by Irene Estep
He jerked the door open, and she was surprised at the satisfied smirk that spread across his face. "Next time, my lord. I think it only fair my expectations should be addressed."
"Agreed," he said, disarming her with a grin. "Now say, ‘goodnight, Drake’."
Somehow she wasn’t surprised he’d caught her deliberate use of his title before. Well, there was no reason she couldn’t concede on that one point. She turned on her heels and mumbled, "Goodnight, Drake."
* * *
Drake lay stretched out on his bed, starring blankly into the darkness. He’d walked into Claresta’s room tonight with nothing more in mind than to prove something to himself. Prove something to her, really. The woman had had her way for much too long, and it was about time someone showed her that it was the man who was supposed to be in control. Well, he’d shown her, hadn’t he? While she was all sated and satisfied and resting peacefully, he lay here hours later still drawn tight as a bowstring.
He laughed at his own stubbornness and thought of her last words to him. He couldn’t wait to find out what Claresta’s expectations of him would be.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gilbert House was at sixes and sevens after Claresta’s return. Drake informed her by messenger their announcement was to be published in the Morning Post the following day, and the servants were busily planning for the eventful day. The gentleman certainly didn’t waste time once a decision was made and so she should not, either.
He’d tricked her by filling in the trustee without her approval, but somehow, now that she knew how capable the man was, she didn’t feel too uncomfortable having him in charge of her affairs. And Norwood did not act the fool. After they were married and he became aware of the full extent of her expertise and involvement with Gilbert and Huntington, then surely he would let her have some say in the way things were handled. For now she’d concentrate on getting through one day at a time.
Claresta sent for a seamstress, then dispatched Douglas to retrieve the blue material from the warehouse and inform Edwin of her return.
Edwin arrived along with the material and gave her some bad news. "Someone set fire to the indigo, but the damage is minimal. It happened during the night. I was working late in the office and did not hear a thing. Martin smelled the smoke and doused the flames, possibly saving the entire business from going up in flames."
Claresta was stunned. She shuddered to think what may have happened if he had not awakened at all. "Maybe it is not such a good idea for Martin to have sleeping quarters in the loft. And really, Edwin, you should know better than to remain in that area so late at night."
"Could not be helped, what with you gone and the paperwork continually piling up."
Claresta winced. She should have hired more clerical help long ago. "You should have left it for me," she said guiltily.
Edwin paid no heed to her comment, seeming intent on recalling the disaster. "I tell you, Cousin, I never knew the large man could move so quickly. Of course, it would have been better had Martin awakened in time to scare the evildoers away when they first entered the building."
"You don’t think it could have been an accident, then?"
"I found a tinderbox. I suspect it was discarded in their rush to escape capture. The culprits may only have been children out for some mischief. Certainly no one of a right mind would know the danger of such an act after the last London disaster. In any event, there was a shout that brought Martin around in time to douse the fire before it got out of hand."
"Why would someone set a fire, then give a warning?"
Edwin shrugged. "’Tis strange indeed. But, just so, I think we should hire a night watchman to keep an eye on things after hours. At least, for a few weeks."
For a moment Claresta simply stared at Edwin, then uneasily she asked, "You think this might be related to what happened to Lord Ainsworth and Wheaton?"
"Your reckless and clumsy suitors? Ainsworth drove a spanking pace with those bloods of his. Could have overturned his high-flyer into a ditch many a time and didn’t."
"He said a black cat came sailing into the street from nowhere."
"Half seas over, wasn’t he? Nearly drank himself under on a bet with Lord Ridly. Fool. Everyone knows Ridly can hold more port than the Thames holds water. I believe that’s why you refused the invitation he extended to go riding with him that afternoon?"
Claresta sighed. "True. But what of Wheaton? He swore someone pushed him down the stairway at Haymarket."
"Wheaton is so rib-ticklish and top-heavy, he wouldn’t know a push from a nudge. I once saw him topple flat on his face while doing the pretty in front of Lady Emmeline last season. You are just lucky to have caught yourself on the banister when he plowed into you."
Claresta noticed Edwin didn’t deny or confirm her suspicions, just gave reasonable explanations for the mishaps being accidental. She half wished there were a more forthright answer to the events. Three accidental or natural disasters within the time of her association with the gentlemen gave credence to the ton’s belief that she was a jinx.
Her thinking had been so clouded of late, could she be grasping for a tangible way to place blame for the things that had occurred in her life? "I agree about the watchman, but make it two. One in front and in the rear. That way the chances of someone sneaking in will be lessened."
"Done. Now what do I hear of a marriage? You look quite pleased with yourself, radiant even, I would say. I presume Norwood agreed to your terms."
"It is true. The wedding will take place as soon as the banns are posted." The smile on Claresta’s face disappeared. "There is but one hitch." Two, she thought, but there seemed no point to complaining about the man’s trickery. "I don’t think Lord Norwood knows yet of my lack of standing with Society. On the drive home, he said his family is due to arrive in a few weeks, and his step-mother plans to fire his sister off when the Season begins. How shall I tell him I’ll be unable to sponsor his sister’s come out? I have misled him terribly, Edwin."
"For which he shall be compensated generously."
She sighed, and Edwin lifted a brow in concern. "Do not say you have developed tender feelings for the American?"
"Of course, not," Claresta said crisply and dismissed the doubts that had been plaguing her since that one glorious night Drake had come to her bed. "You are right, of course. And why should I be concerned?" She paced to and fro and bit into her lower lip. She’d always prided herself on being a very straightforward person. To carry on the deception for any length of time would, no doubt, start eating on her conscience. "His relatives are not due to arrive for another month. By then, we’ll be married."
Edwin wisely did not comment, but returned to the problems she could do something about. "I supposed you’d like to inspect the fire damage for yourself, so I told Douglas to have your carriage brought round."
"Hmmmm, oh yes. Thank you, Edwin. You must have read my mind." Indeed, if he could do such a thing, she thought, he’d realize she was falling in love with her soon-to-be husband.
* * *
Things were not to go as smoothly as Claresta had predicted. The Lockwoods, mother and daughter arrived in Cheyne Walk that very morning. Drake was happy that his family would be present to witness the nuptials. As soon as Druscilla and Franny were settled in their rooms, he rushed to share the good news with his betrothed.
At Gilbert House, Juny, having finished her morning chores in the kitchen went to clean the library. Miss Huntington spent a good deal of time in there, and Juny liked to keep things nice and tidy for the lady who’d given her and her brother the first secure home they’d ever known.
She finished her tasks and was making her exit when Douglas opened the front door to Lord Norwood. She hurried toward the stairs, hoping he would not spot her, but it was already too late.
"Hey, you there!" he yelled.
"M-Me, Sir?" Juny knew good and well who he was talking to, and she’d dreaded the moment ever since she learned Miss Huntington and Lord N
orwood were betrothed. She’d come to enjoy the security of working at Gilbert House and now all could be lost because of what she’d done. She’d almost forgotten her reasons for coming here to begin with had been to find Lord Norwood. Her brother had been so ill, she would have gladly ransomed the gentleman’s papers to see to Charlie’s care.
"Juny Farell, is it not?" he asked with a heavy scowl on his face.
Douglas stepped aside with a puzzled frown. Juny knew, should she be dismissed, the fellow wouldn’t look forward to returning to kitchen duty himself. But she never expected him to recommend her to Lord Norwood whom he’d had nothing but praise for since his return from the country.
"’Tis no ‘arder worker ‘bout than our Miss Juny, yore lordship. Now that Cook’s done used to havin' her 'bout, she’d be riot lost without her, oim sure she would."
Juny gloried in Douglas’s praise, but she doubted he would be defending her if he knew she were a thief. Well, as Charlie would say, ‘we be what we be.’
"Is there aah problem, m’lordship?" Douglas asked.
Juny would be embarrassed beyond all to have her past indiscretions revealed in front of another servant. The gentleman seemed to take pity on her when he said, "Leave us, Douglas. I need to have a word with the young lady alone."
After the footman left, Juny put on a outward show of bravado. Years of life on the streets had taught her to show defiance no matter how much her insides shook with fear. She stood ramrod straight and lifted her chin. "You well know who I am, sir."
"Aye, and you well know what you stole from me," Drake mocked, "and I want it back."
"The money’s all gone, your lordship. Stolen from me own sick bed by Eddy Sharps," she said flippantly.
"Eddy Sharps?"
"The owner of the flashhouse where me an’ Charlie put down for a spell. Eddy didn’ take to having sick ‘uns lying about when we shoulda been bungnipping coves. Said we owed it to ‘em for our keep, he did, when he found our money hid under Charlie’s bedding."
"My money," Drake corrected.
Juny actually felt a flush rise in her cheeks. Blushing was something she’d forgotten was possible during the tormenting years she and Charlie had spent living from hand to mouth. She owed Miss Huntington a good deal for taking them in and giving them work. But she’d heard the talk about her mistress and Lord Norwood getting ready to splice. When they wed, Juny feared she and Charlie would be on their own again. It appeared their dismissal would be sooner than that.
"Your money, ‘tis a fact, sir." When she saw a spark of sympathy in the earl’s eyes, she decided to make one plea for redemption. "If you allow me and Charlie to keep working here at Gilbert House, I can get the ready back to ye in no time a’tall."
"The ready?"
"Your money, sir?"
"Ahh, the money." Lord Norwood’s voice thawed. "Where is your brother, child?"
Juny’s eyes widened with renewed fear. Most of the Quality didn’t take well to being fleeced. Would the gentleman call the magistrate as soon as he had them both in sight? If she lied to him, he’d summon Douglas and find out anyway. "He’s above stairs starting the fires. He’s still weak from having the measles," she lied. "Surely you wouldn’ send a sickly child to the dungeons of Newgate."
Juny had seen what that hellhole was like when she visited her father there once. She didn’t think she could survive such, and surely Charlie couldn’t. "Please, sir. I’ll work even harder than what Douglas says I do. I’ll pay back every cent, I will. I--"
"Enough!" He ordered, then waved his hand in dismissal. "We’ll speak of restitution later. Where are the papers you took?"
"The papers? Oh . . ." Juny could see that the papers were even more important than she’d first assumed. She had something to bargain with and felt better for it. She touched her forehead and pondered, "Now where’d I put ‘em?"
All humbleness had disappeared from her speech. The gentleman didn’t appear to be all that surprised that she couldn’t remember where she’d mislaid his property. In fact, his lips twitched as if he were a bit amused by the whole thing. "How much will it cost me for your memory to return?"
This was her last opportunity to bargain for her and Charlie’s future, and Juny intended to make the best of it. "Well, Miss Huntington--she’s a kind lady, the kindest I ever knew--she gave us positions when me an’ Charlie had no where else to go. But I don’t rightly know if she’d take too kindly to having a former thief under her roof. If you could find it in your heart to keep our secret, I’d be beholden, sir."
"Beholden enough to return my property?"
The man seemed too amused to be serious. So she needed reassurance. "Do I have your word, sir?"
"I cannot promise such a thing, for I do not like deceit in any form. But I can give you my word to find you another position should Miss Huntington decide to turn you out, which knowing first hand of her generous nature, I doubt she would do. Now let’s haggle no longer, shall we."
Juny knew that was the best she was going to get. She sidled toward the stairs. "I’ll go get ‘em."
"I think I will just come along and say hello to Charlie," Lord Norwood said, as if he didn’t trust her. She could duck down the servants’ stairs or, drop out a window and be out of sight before he could catch her. But she couldn’t find Charlie in time and do that with his lordship tagging at her heels.
"As you wish, my lord," Juny said with a sniffle and led the way into the library. The one thing she hadn’t tried yet was tears. Most coves turned and ran at the first sight of a blubbering miss.
"How did you come to be here?" Drake asked as Juny ran her finger along a row of books just above her head. Franny had used the dry-tear sniffles on him enough times that he knew to pay no attention to Juny’s. And right now, his mind was more on just how far Claresta had gone to snare him.
When the girl came to a gilt edged book of poems by Robert Burns, she took it from the shelf, flipped it open and removed the papers she’d stolen. "There, your lordship. Everything is as it should be."
Not everything as it should be, he thought. Did his future fiancée know the proof of his identity was hidden away in her library? Drake took the papers and unfolded them. They were crinkled and smudged, but everything seemed to be in order. "Very well," he said. "You can inform your mistress, Miss Huntington, that I wish to see her now."
"She ain’t here," Juny said with a sniff and this time a real tear slid down her cheek.
Drake felt guilty for causing the girl to cry. His mistake was comparing her to his sister who’d never had a reason to cry her whole life. "Dry your tears, girl, I’m not such an ogre that I would send children to prison, if that’s what’s worrying you." Still he didn’t want to go too soft on the girl. She might get the idea she could revert to her former ways without consequences. "Be warned, though, I don’t go lightly with thieves, so you better watch your step from now on."
"Oh, thank you, sir. You can be sure me and Charlie are on the straight and narrow now that we got honest wages at Gilbert House."
"Well, then if Cla--Miss Huntington is not about, I should be on my way." Drake wanted to inform Claresta of his family’s arrival before he went by Denton’s office to legally lay claim to his inheritance. As soon as Druscilla learned of his betrothal, she’d demanded to meet his fiancée, and he’d assured her Claresta would be present at dinner this evening.
Drake tapped the papers against his palm. He needed to have a few words with Miss Huntington, as well. This duplicity of hers had to end. "I don’t suppose you know where your mistress is off to?"
Juny swiped the tears away and bestowed on him a broad smile. No doubt, she’d now divulge the secrets of the Egyptian pyramids, if Drake asked it of her and it were in her power to do so. "Mr. Edwin came by for her early. I think he took her to the warehouse."
Drake thought Claresta would be thoroughly occupied with wedding plans, not off at the docks this early after their return, but he did not show his surprise as he said, "Ve
ry well, then. When she returns, inform her we’re to dine at my residence this evening, and I’ll pick her up around seven."
* * *
Curiosity won out, and Drake went by the warehouse to see what was so important that it demanded Claresta’s attention. A strong scent hung about the inside of the warehouse as he stepped through the large double doors. He found no one about and made his way around crates of merchandise until he came upon a small office to the rear. An even stronger odor filled the office, but it had a tart sting to it that brought tears to the eyes. He found the source of discomfort in an uncovered cask inside the desk drawer that had been left open. He picked up the cask and replaced the lid. As he started to put it back he noticed the message that had lain beneath it. He recognized his own handwriting, and the missive he’d left at the hotel for Captain Mercer. He picked it up and noted the seal had been broken. "Why, the manipulative little minx."
He slammed the drawer shut and with the billet crushed in his fist, he went looking for his fiancée.
* * *
Claresta assessed the fire damage to several crates of ginger. Thankfully, Martin had smelled the smoke and put out the flames before they reached some nearby containers of turpentine. Otherwise, the whole warehouse might be nothing now but a pile of charred remains.
She heard footsteps and turned to see Drake as he swept down the aisle toward her. She felt tempted to dart behind a nearby crate and hid, for the expression on his face spoke of anger. His gaze was locked on her with unswerving direction.
He must be appalled that she’d come down to the warehouse, or maybe it displeased him that she did so without her companion. She was going to have to come up with an explanation and quickly. She smiled broadly as he came nearer, then without warning he tackled her around the waist, and they both went flying into a pile of dried tobacco leaves.
She barely noticed the pungent odor for her eyes were riveted on the large crate that came toppling to the floor from the loft overhead. Appalled and speechless, she realized she truly was a jinx. She threw her arms around Drake and in a breathless whisper, she said, "My lord, you could have been killed."