Dead Dukes Tell No Tales

by Catherine Stein

  He was sitting in his chair, leaning back with his feet propped up on the desk, and listening to a slightly time-delayed update on a new client, when the door flew open and Lola ran at him, a bag slung over her shoulder and her spider cage clutched in her arms.

  “Daddy!”

  Cliff wobbled and nearly upended himself. “Lo, what’s wrong?” He swung his feet to the floor and rose, keeping the phone to his ear.

  “Daddy, Miss La Capitaine says it’s time to go and maybe there’s bad guys coming and everybody is angry and scared and I couldn’t find Ralph and she says I have to leave him behind!”

  “Uh, sorry,” Cliff said into the phone. “Something came up and I have to go. Thanks for the update. I’ll call again tomorrow when I’m settled in London.” He hung up and hugged his daughter. “Babe, you have plenty of time to find Ralph and pack more than that tiny bag. We’re not leaving until the morning. We’ll ride a train to London and you’ll have a new fancy house to explore. Plus we’ll visit museums and libraries and maybe the Tower of London.”

  “I don’t wanna go there. People get their heads chopped off there.”

  “Hyde Park, then. And we’ll go shopping. Find you a toy store. I think you deserve it for being my extra special secret helper.”

  “What am I helping with?”

  Cliff unlocked his desk and removed the Sphinx machine from the drawer. He opened the box and selected a wheel from the stack. “Open Lucas’s cage.”

  Lola obeyed, her eyes shining with eager curiosity. Cliff shoved the wheel down into the mulch that covered the bottom of the cage, brushing the dirt around until it was hidden from sight.

  “Tell no one,” he instructed. “Not a soul. Not even Sabine.”

  Lola nodded gravely. Cliff pocketed a second wheel, then returned the Sphinx device to the desk, leaving the drawer unlocked. He nudged Lola toward the door and they walked out together.

  “But, Daddy? Sabine said we were going away on her airship today. Not on a train tomorrow.”

  “She can go however she likes. You and I are taking a train tomorrow. I’ve already bought the tickets. I have tickets for Duchess Amy and Lady Luella, also, if they want to come along. Let’s go pack your things properly, shall we?”

  Cliff had been in Lola’s room no more than a few minutes when Sabine walked in. He couldn’t see her—he was stuck halfway under the bed, straining to reach Ralph, who, as usual, had gotten his little spider self wedged—but he heard the steady pounding of her boots and the swish of her skirts against her legs.

  “Hartleigh! Two wheels are missing. What did you do with them?”

  Cliff worked the spider out from its self-made prison, then slid out from under the bed. Sabine glowered down at him, the Sphinx device in her hands.

  “I’m keeping one on my person and the other is hidden,” he replied.

  “Hidden where?”

  “I’m not telling. I suggest you take the other two and do what I’ve done. Then we’re equally necessary for the decoding of the machine.” He handed Ralph to Lola, who stowed him with the other mechanical spiders, her serious expression giving no hint of their secret.

  “I ought to tie you up and force you to go along with me.”

  Cliff didn’t doubt she could do it if she chose. He suspected—he hoped—she liked him too much to try.

  “I’ve purchased a train ticket to London in your name,” he said. “I would be very happy if you would join us in the morning. I think we will be safer if you are with us. I understand, however, if you choose another path. Amy and Luella are also welcome to come with us, or to go with you, or even remain here if they prefer.”

  Sabine stared at him for a long time, then jabbed a finger in his direction and snarled, “If you die, I will never forgive you.”

  She stormed off.

  Lola gave a little tug on Cliff’s sleeve. “Daddy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I liked it better when Miss La Capitaine wanted to kiss you.”

  He hugged her. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

  29

  The men trailing them had disappeared from sight. Sabine had a lifetime of experience watching her surroundings and the people around her, but she still couldn’t locate them. They were well-trained. Quiet. Competent. Worth every penny she had paid.

  A young, middle-class couple brushed by her, on their way into the toy store where Cliff and Lola had been for the past quarter-hour. Sabine could easily have picked their pockets. Even as a child thief she wouldn’t have bothered. She’d learned early on to spot wealthier prey.

  She took a step further back into the entranceway, tucking her skirt behind her to keep it beneath the small awning. The rain was coming harder now, and people everywhere had ducked into the shops to wait out the storm. Perhaps her bodyguards weren’t so good after all. Maybe they’d merely hidden from the rain. Or given up on the boring assignment and taken themselves home.

  Wind swirled, flinging fat droplets of frigid rain and biting through layers of fabric. Sabine had turned halfway toward the door when it swung open and Cliff and Lola stepped out. Lola clutched a rag doll dressed as a pirate in one arm. Her opposite hand held a small rubber rat. She let out a powerful sneeze, then wiped her snotty nose on her sleeve.

  “It’s pouring!” she exclaimed. “Daddy, put Sabine under your coat so she won’t get wet.” She thrust the doll at him.

  Sabine’s chest tightened. Lola had named a doll for her? Sabine didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh, scoff, or give Lola the biggest hug imaginable. Perhaps all three.

  Cliff didn’t take the doll. He stepped up to the edge of the awning and opened his umbrella. “I’ll hail a cab. Wait here.”

  He dashed off, leaving Lola, Sabine, and doll-Sabine alone.

  “See what Daddy bought me?” Lola asked. “I named her Sabine because she’s a pirate like you. She used to be a princess, but I took the clothes off a boy pirate doll and switched them. The store man said we had to buy both dolls because no one wants a boy princess doll, but then a boy near us said he wanted the boy princess doll. His daddy said, ‘Wouldn’t you rather have a pirate or a soldier?’ but the boy said, ‘I want a princess.’”

  The door opened again and the boy stepped out, clutching his princess doll, his face bright with joy. The father followed after, an uncertain frown on his face. Sabine gave him a smile and his expression relaxed. He scooped the boy up, hugged him close, and dashed through the rain to a waiting carriage.

  “What an incredible thing it must be, to have a good father,” Sabine mused. “Do you know how lucky you are, Lola? Do you think that boy knows?”

  Lola sniffled and hugged her pirate. “I don’t know. Are some people’s fathers bad?”

  Hartleigh’s well-timed return saved Sabine from an explanation. His trousers were soaked halfway up his calves and splattered up to his thighs, but the umbrella had kept his top half dry.

  “I have a steam carriage waiting up ahead. I’ll take you one-at-a-time so you can stay as dry as possible.” He picked up Lola, settling her on his hip and adjusting the umbrella to cover her completely. “Be right back.”

  He ran to the vehicle and put Lola inside, keeping her dry while getting himself damper yet. Sabine watched. The cab wasn’t terribly far off. She’d been rained on plenty of times in her life. She had no need to wait for him to return. It was silly to wait. They’d end up squashed together beneath the umbrella.

  Her body thrilled at the thought of her whole length pressed against him. The last time he’d gotten himself soaking wet…

  Before she could even finish scolding herself for fantasizing about that day, he had scampered back, holding out a hand to help her down the two wide steps to the pavement. Sabine’s bare fingers closed over his gloved ones. The rain hammered down in torrential sheets, streaming from rooftops, flooding the streets. Cliff didn’t even hesitate to shield Sabine with the umbrella, exposing himself to the full force of the downpour.

  Sabine knew she sh
ould protest. She should insist that she run to the cab on her own, or at least that they share the umbrella. The sheer novelty of the experience kept her mouth closed. Never in her life had anyone treated her with gentlemanly deference.

  She wasn’t the type to want or ask for help. She sneered at men who offered unsolicited and unneeded advice or assistance. But there was no condescension in Hartleigh’s behavior. He knew she could handle far more difficult situations than a rainstorm. He didn’t question her intellect or her competence. What he did do was put the needs of those he cared for above his own. He had extended her a courtesy, treating her like a lady.

  A lady!

  She’d been a thief, a pest, a pirate, an adventurer, a businesswoman, and a heroine, but never just a lady.

  “Thank you,” she said as he handed her up into the carriage, grateful to be dry and to be seen for herself, as a person, rather than as an untouchable legend.

  “My pleasure.” He said it as if he really had taken pleasure from walking her through a storm, nonsensical as that was.

  He shook out the umbrella and climbed up into the carriage. His clothes were soaked through, his hat a dripping mess. He took off his eyeglasses and tried to wipe them, but even his handkerchief was wet. Sighing, he shoved the smeary spectacles back onto his face.

  “Well, Lola,” he said. “I’m sorry, but our park visit will have to wait until another day. Even if this rain stops, everything will be mud. Where would you like to go instead? A museum? A library?” Cliff gave Sabine a significant glance.

  She shook her head. No. Too early. Redbeard and his allies would be expecting another quick hunt for clues. They needed to take their time for Cliff’s plan to work.

  “You’re going home to change. You’re wet to the bone.”

  He shivered. “I’ll dry.”

  “Yes. At home.” Sabine opened the panel between the passengers and the driver and gave the address of their rental house. The carriage hissed and puffed and started down the road, as the rain continued to beat relentlessly down.

  With no one wanting to walk and the storm hampering visibility, traffic crawled along the streets like a lethargic slug. By the time the cab rolled to a stop in front of their door, Hartleigh was shuddering like a steam engine about to blow, and his lips had turned a terrifying shade of purple. Sabine pulled him out of the car, up the steps, and into the foyer, not letting him even pause to open the umbrella.

  “His Grace needs a warm bath. Now,” she demanded of the butler.

  “I’m f-fine,” Cliff insisted through chattering teeth. He sneezed. “Just need dry clothes.”

  “A warm bath,” Sabine repeated. “Dry clothing, lots of blankets. Stoke the fire in his bedchamber and have a pot of tea sent up. I’m going to fetch Miss Lola.”

  She grabbed the umbrella, splashed out to the cab, paid their fare, and carried Lola into the house. Sabine’s skirts were damp, but nothing that a few minutes in front of the fire wouldn’t fix. She called for blankets and tea, and settled herself and Lola on the floor by the hearth in the front parlor.

  “I like pirate tea parties,” Lola declared a half-hour later. Her pot was empty, her plate a mess of crumbs and one sliver of salmon she hadn’t liked. Sabine-the-pirate-doll sat propped against an unused teacup, the rubber rat tucked beneath her cloth arm. “Are they always this fun?”

  Sabine glanced out the window. One of the bodyguards—who hadn’t run off after all— caught her eye as he walked by, then ducked beneath his umbrella and took himself out of sight. Good. The house was protected.

  “I couldn’t say,” Sabine replied. “This is my first pirate tea party.”

  Lola’s eyes widened. “Really? Your first?”

  “Yes. Most pirates I know don’t want to have tea parties.” She gave Lola a hand up. “Let’s go find your father. He should have joined us by now.”

  “I thought he was taking a bath.”

  The exact reason Sabine wanted to bring Lola. In the event he wasn’t yet dressed, she wanted a way to check on him without walking in on him naked and starting the spiral of wanting all over again.

  Cliff answered when she rapped on his bedroom door. He was no longer turning blue, but his cheeks were pale. He wore a plush dressing gown and no eyeglasses. His hair was tousled, his feet bare.

  “Sabine?” He sneezed and wiped his nose with a handkerchief. “Did you need something?”

  “We’re having a pirate tea party, Daddy,” Lola explained, squeezing past Sabine. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve, then dropped into a curtsy. “Lady Lola and Lady Sabine invite His Grace, the Duke of Hartleigh, to an elegant and dangerous pirate tea party.”

  “I don’t know, Lo.” Cliff covered his mouth to hide a cough. “I think you gave me your cold. I should probably keep away from Sabine so I don’t…” He sneezed. “Sneeze on her.”

  Sabine studied him. Watery eyes, red nose. Even in the warm room he shivered. “Hartleigh, you look terrible.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a cold. I’ll be fine.” He shivered again, a full-body tremor punctuated by a hacking cough. “I’m going to get a blanket.”

  Sabine walked up to him, laying the back of her hand against his forehead. “Shit. You’re burning up, Hartleigh. You need to get to bed. I should never have let you walk through that freezing cold rain without the umbrella.”

  “It wasn’t that c-cold until I had to sit in that cab for f-forty-five minutes.”

  Sabine made a forceful gesture at the bed. “In bed, Duke. Now.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I wish you would’ve said that a few days ago.” He crawled under the blankets, pulling them tight to his chin. “Still cold.”

  Lola hopped up on the bed beside him. “Are you sick, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, sorry, babe. You’ll have to reschedule the tea party. Is Duchess Amy home from her visits? Maybe you can invite her.”

  “Okay.” Lola planted a kiss on his forehead. “Get lots of rest and drink plenty of water. I’ll be back to check on you.”

  Damn, the girl was adorable. Sabine spent the entire rest of the day with her, making up pirate stories, searching the house for secret passages, and periodically peeking into Hartleigh’s bedchamber. By evening, Lola had worn herself out, and Sabine tucked her into bed in the adjoining room, leaving the door between the two ajar.

  “In case Daddy needs me,” Lola murmured.

  Sabine kissed her cheek. “Sleep well, little pirate.”

  You’re caring too much, Sabine, she thought, slipping into Cliff’s room. He lay still and sleeping, as he had been for the past several hours. You let yourself befriend them and now you’re getting carried away.

  She sat on the edge of Cliff’s bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the blankets. She touched his brow again.

  “Still feverish.” She pressed a kiss to the spot her fingers had touched. “Be well, Hartleigh. You have a smart, brave, wonderful daughter who needs a Heart. And I need a partner to help me fetch it.”

  Pirates don’t have partners. Cliff and Lola are not your family.

  Today they had felt like one, though. A good family, where people loved and helped one another. She was a fool for letting herself linger in that sensation. All too soon it would come to an end. It always did. Someone always got hurt.

  She gently closed the door to Hartleigh’s room and started for the stairs. Tomorrow he’d wake up feeling better and she could go back to trying not to care.

  Now, though, it was time to consult with her night watchmen. No one was getting hurt tonight.

  30

  The device clicked and clanked, spitting out another line of nonsense. In deference to Cliff’s illness, Sabine had handed over her two rotors so he could play with the Sphinx device. With the caveat that he not “blow anything up again.”

  Cliff didn’t expect to learn anything new, but he was enjoying spinning the wheels into various positions that spelled out words. C-O-D-E. Nonsense. D-U-K-E. Nonsense. L-O-
L-A. Now he was just being silly.

  He was happily positioning the wheels to spell out naughty words, when a fist hammered on his suite door. Amy whisked into the room before he had a chance to answer.

  “Hartleigh. Are you dressed? We have guests. You need to come downstairs.”

  Cliff coughed, making it sound worse than it really was. “Still sick. Sorry. Don’t want to infect anyone.”

  “You’ve been in bed for two full days. That’s more than enough.”

  He agreed. Those two days had been miserable. He’d tossed and turned, trying desperately to snatch bits of sleep between coughing fits. He’d been alternately sweating and shivering, half delirious from lack of proper rest, his whole body aching.

  Today he was tired still, and the cough lingered, but his fever had broken and he felt well enough to be bored of lying in bed. He’d dressed, but that had sapped much of his energy. Lounging on the sofa in the sitting room under a blanket and fiddling with the Sphinx device was about all he could handle.

  “I’m afraid I’m not well enough to leave my rooms. But I’d love another pot of tea, if you don’t mind.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Hartleigh, you can’t order me to fetch tea! I am a duchess!”

  “A duchess by a rather dubious marriage, if you ask me.”

  “It was a perfectly sensible marriage. He wanted someone to be there for him in his old age, and I wanted a husband who would give me a proper station in life without pressing his attentions on me. We were very fond of one another.” She turned toward the door. “Luella,” she called, “please send the ladies along. His Grace is lonely and in need of visitors.”

  Sighing, Cliff closed the Sphinx device and set it aside. “I’m not interested in one of your ‘perfectly sensible’ marriages.”

  “Of course not. You’re young and vigorous. You want a pretty girl to warm your bed and bear your children.”