A cynical smile curved his mouth. “Do you?” Royce asked deliberately. “The, er, attentions of the one-eyed man don’t bother you?”
Pip blanched, her eyes widening. Forgetting her role for a moment, she stepped closer to him. “What do you know of the one-eyed man?”
“Merely what your brothers were kind enough to tell me last night.”
Pip gasped. “My brothers? You saw them last night?” Fear shot through her, and forgetting her own peril, she demanded urgently, “Where are they? Did you hurt them?” A horrible thought struck her. “N-N-Not Newgate?”
Unaccountably moved by her obvious distress, Royce was quick to reassure her. “No, they’re not in Newgate—they are unharmed and left here unmolested ... after we had a most enlightening conversation.”
Pip regarded him warily, trying to get her jumbled thoughts in order. Could she trust his word? And how much had her brothers told him? Obviously he knew something of the one-eyed man... . Giving herself a shake and hoping he had not caught her slip in speech, she stuck out her chin and asked sharply, “And ’ow do Oy know you’re tellin’ the truth?”
Her lightning change of personality fascinated Royce—one moment that gamin face had been full of fear, the gray eyes dark with anxiety, and the next ... He smiled faintly, studying the pugnacious tilt to her chin, the mutinous cast to the generous mouth. A soft-spoken lady one moment and a tart-tongued street urchin the next!
His golden eyes meeting hers, Royce admitted candidly, “I can offer you no proof of what happened, nor do I intend to—you’ll just have to take my word for it! Suffice it to say, though, I awoke and found your brothers in the kitchen shortly after your conversation with them. I, ah, persuaded them to confide in me, which they did. As for proof—your brothers must have trusted me or I wouldn’t have known about your one-eyed dimber-damber, nor the fact that you can speak the King’s English when it suits you. I doubt that they would have revealed so much if I’d had them arrested and carted off to Newgate.”
Pip stared at him, slowly digesting what he had revealed. There was the ring of truth about what he said, but ... “You could ’ave tortured them, made them tell you wot you wanted to know.”
Not used to having his word doubted, especially not by someone like this small, irritating creature before him, Royce snarled softly, “I don’t torture people as a rule, although in your case I just might make an exception, and I’m certainly not going to waste any more of my time trying to convince you that I’m telling the truth!” He shot her a look almost of dislike. “I told your brothers that in order to keep you safe from the one-eyed man, you could stay here for the time being, but if I’m to provide you with temporary asylum, you are going to have to live by my rules. Is that understood?”
Her black curls fairly bristling with rage, Pip glared at him. “Of course, m’lord! Anything you say, m’lord!” she snapped angrily. “Shall I kiss your feet in gratitude?”
“Why, you ungrateful—!” Royce lunged for her, and grasping her shoulders, he shook her. “If you don’t learn to keep a proper tongue in your mouth, I may indeed resort to torture!” He smiled tauntingly. “And enjoy it!”
Pip aimed a furious kick at him, but deftly Royce avoided the blow. “Oh, no you don’t, my little guttersnipe! I suffered enough of that kind of punishment from you yesterday!” His hands slid down her arms, and capturing her wrists, he jerked them behind her back. “And now what are you going to do?” he asked as she struggled helplessly in his grasp. “Bite me?”
“It’s a thought!” Pip spat, her head flung back as she stared up at his mocking features, her gray eyes almost black with fury, her breasts heaving from her wild exertions to escape his hold.
Royce held her squirming body easily against his, and as he looked down into her upturned face, the impact of her loveliness suddenly hit him. Almost incredulously his gaze traveled over her features, the clear alabaster skin which was in such charming contrast to the ebony blackness of her curls, the haughty little nose, and the clarity and depth of those thickly lashed, smoky gray eyes. Still marveling, he let his eyes wander down the haughty little nose to the tempting lushness of her voluptuous mouth. An odd note in his voice, he muttered, “Who would have dreamed that such loveliness lay beneath all that grime?”
Pip’s heart seemed to leap within her breast and she was assailed by a strange breathlessness. Her body suddenly felt as if it were on fire wherever it touched his tall, powerful form, and it frightened and pleasured her at the same time. Not understanding what was happening between them, but unbearably conscious that some new, dangerous emotion had leapt up between them, she renewed her struggles to escape from him.
To her astonishment, Royce let her go, and stumbling away from him, she only stopped when her back was against the door. Wordlessly they stared at each other across the room, and then, almost as if the odd awareness had never been, Royce’s mouth compressed grimly and he said roughly, “Unless you want a well-deserved beating, I would suggest that you get back to the kitchens and apply yourself most earnestly to making yourself useful!”
Fighting down the urge to hurl an angry reply at his arrogant head, Pip forced herself to remain calm. Taking a deep breath, determined to pretend that he didn’t arouse all sorts of conflicting emotions within her, she asked the question uppermost in her mind. “Why?” At his look of irritation that she was continuing to defy him, she quickly amended her question. “I mean why are you doing this? Letting my brothers go. Providing me a place to stay. Why don’t you just toss me out in the streets to take my chances?”
Royce sent her an enigmatic look. He had indulged her far more than a mere guttersnipe deserved, and he saw no reason to explain that her resemblance to the Earl of St. Audries interested him. Obliquely he answered, “Let’s just say that it pleases me and that I might find you useful in more ways than one, shall we?”
It was an unsatisfactory reply, but from the closed expression on his face, she suspected that she wasn’t going to learn anything more from him. Forcing a cheeky grin to her lips, she quipped, “Well, then, guvnor, is that all? Oy’m to learn to be a bloody good ’ittle servant?”
Amusement gleaming in his golden eyes, Royce said softly, “I think that you can drop the accent, brat! We both know you can speak properly. Do so!”
Driven by some demon of mischief, Pip retorted, “Wot if Oy don’t want to?”
There was a charged silence. Then, all amusement gone, Royce said in a dangerous tone, “I think that you would be wise not to fight me on this, infant.... We both know which of us is the stronger, and in case you’ve forgotten, I’ll be happy to refresh your memory.”
Suddenly terrified at the thought of being at his mercy, of being brought up next to that hard, powerful body, Pip was out of the room almost before the words had left his mouth, vanishing as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. For a long time after she had gone, Royce stared at the shut door, still half-stunned by her unexpected loveliness. The tempting softness of her mouth flashed across his mind and he could remember vividly the sensation of that slim body crushed against his. “No wonder the one-eyed man has plans for her,” he muttered to himself. And as for keeping her safe from the one-eyed man ... There was a sudden flare of heat between his thighs, and under his breath, he growled, “From him certainly, but will she be safe from me?”
PART TWO
Dangerous Refuge
A rosebud set with little willful thorns,
And sweet as English air could make
her, she.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON, The Princess
CHAPTER 7
Disturbed and flustered from her meeting with Royce, Pip fled back to the kitchen, trying to regain some of her shattered composure. I hate him! she thought fiercely as she hurried down the long hallway. He’s an arrogant beast! An overbearing monster! But then, remembering her body’s odd reaction to him, she was painfully conscious of a wild flutter in her stomach. It’s nothing, she told herself stoutly. Nothing
at all! And if it weren’t for the one-eyed man, she wouldn’t stay one minute longer in his house!
It was an odd day for Pip. Accustomed as she was to roaming freely about the streets of London, it seemed very strange to remain in the house all day. And of course, since she had never been anywhere remotely resembling her present whereabouts, she was innocently fascinated by everything that went on around her and more than willing to try her hand at whatever chore was assigned to her—whether she knew what she was doing or not!
She had tackled her first task, making piecrusts, with great exuberance, but had been promptly informed by Ivy in a gently chiding tone that perhaps she had better attempt something that required a little less skill. Despite Pip’s enthusiastic efforts, the resulting piecrusts had been a disaster; not only was the final product unrecognizable, but Pip had been covered with flour from head to toe and had, to her amazement, managed to spread flour from one end of the kitchen to the other!
It had taken some time to clean up Pip and restore the area to its usual immaculate state, and Ivy, still not aware of the potential for calamity, had then set the girl to cracking eggs for a custard—another mistake, as Ivy soon learned. Not knowing how else to accomplish it, for culinary skill was not Pip’s forte, after some careful thought, she had taken to crushing the eggs on the table, picking out the shell, and then scraping the remaining glop into a bowl!
She sincerely tried her best to be useful and to follow instructions, but everything was so very peculiar to her—not only the surroundings, and the people, but the entire situation was foreign to her. She wasn’t stupid; it was merely that while other females may have been learning the mysteries of various womanly chores and the like from their mothers, Pip had been on the streets deftly lifting the valuables of unwary toffs and swells!
Understandably exasperated with her, Ivy had finally thrust a broom into her hand and had asked, with a not-surprising hint of sarcasm in her voice, if Pip thought she could sweep the floor without coming to grief. Humbly Pip had nodded her head and had scrupulously swept up every scrap and crumb she could find.
Despite the bustle of the other servants about her and the novelty of her situation, Pip could not stop herself from thinking about her conversation with her brothers last night and Royce’s talk with them! How would the one-eyed man take the news that Jacko and Ben had not been able to find her? Would he believe them? Would he harm them? And how soon before he grew tired of excuses from her brothers and set someone else the task of wresting her from this place of refuge? And then there was Royce... . How much did he know? And what had he done to convince her brothers to confide in him?
As she worked, Pip had deliberately kept her thoughts from straying to Royce. She didn’t like thinking about him, didn’t like remembering the strange emotions and sensations he aroused within her. She tried to tell herself that she should be grateful to him, but gratitude was not an emotion that Royce Manchester raised in her breast. No, he had stirred other emotions, and they unsettled her, made her aware of her body in ways that filled her with agitation. Forcing herself to concentrate on the task in front of her, she was inordinately thankful that the chores assigned her kept her out of his path. Until she understood what was happening within herself, she wanted no more confrontations with the arrogant, vastly disturbing Mr. Manchester!
Perplexed and anxious, Pip managed to get through the first day in Royce’s house. She missed her brothers immensely in spite of the kindliness and friendliness of the other servants and the constant activity going on around her. The kitchen was the hub of the household; not only were meals prepared here, but anything pertaining to the running of the house was planned and discussed here, and it was the place where all the servants ate and congregated.
Pip gathered from the comments she heard and from the satisfied attitudes of the others that Royce Manchester was an excellent man to work for—more than once that day, Ivy Chambers had said, “If all Americans were as nice as Mr. Manchester and Mr. Zachary, I’d emigrate to America, I would indeed!” Chambers himself seemed to echo this statement, nodding his head in agreement with Ivy’s statement.
In addition to Ivy and Robert Chambers, there was Royce’s valet, Edward Spurling, a small, precise, quiet man; Mr. Zachary’s valet, William Smedley; and three maids varying in age from Alice, the youngest at sixteen, to Sarah, the oldest at twenty-seven, Hazel being in the middle at twenty years of age. Having associated, except for her mother, exclusively with men all of her life, Pip had been a bit uncertain about the other women, but they had proved to be an unusually friendly lot, teasing her not ungently about her mistakes and doing their best to make her feel welcome.
The footman, Tom Cooper, while pleasant enough and a handsome young man, with wavy brown hair and limpid blue eyes, was very aware that he had all three of the housemaids half in love with him, and consequently, his manner was a trifle smug. Pip didn’t exactly dislike him, but she thought him a bit too taken with himself.
Young Matt Hatton was another story, though. Barely thirteen, he had the lowest position on the staff and was at the beck and call of everyone else. Pip had been drawn to him on sight. It might have been the laughing sparkle in his hazel eyes or the impudent grin he flashed her now and then, or even his shock of red hair and freckled face that aroused her liking, but Pip suspected it had to do with the jaunty little air that clung to him. He might be the lowest member of the staff, but from his cocky manner, no one would have guessed it!
During the daylight hours, Pip was able to keep thoughts of the one-eyed man at bay, but as the day ended and darkness fell, she caught herself glancing nervously around, almost as if she expected to look up and see the one-eyed man standing in the room with her. Whether by accident or design, she had not been left alone for one moment during the day, and most of her chores had been centered in the kitchen, where there was always someone nearby. The few times that she had left the kitchen, one of the other servants had been with her. Even when Alice and Matt had been sent on some errands in the afternoon and actually could have used Pip’s help in carrying their various burdens back to the house, Ivy had kept Pip near her side, and Pip had been secretly relieved—the one-eyed man was as perfectly capable of having her snatched from the street in broad daylight as he was of having someone creep into the house at night to whisk her away.
She didn’t actually expect an attack tonight; if an assault was made on the house again this soon, it would more than likely be her brothers doing the housebreaking, and she had nothing to fear from them, but who knew what the one-eyed man had planned? Perhaps he had not believed Jacko and Ben and was even now ordering her kidnapping by someone else ... someone else who would not fail. She shuddered, and casting an uneasy glance at the heavy wooden back door as she helped Alice wash dishes in the scullery, she was surprised to see a shiny new lock and bolt had been added to the door. A lock and bolt that had not been there earlier in the day.
With a nonchalance she did not feel, she remarked, “Oh, is that a new lock on the door?”
Alice looked at the door and said, “Indeed it is! The master instructed the locksmith to put it on this afternoon while you were helping Hazel in the linen closet. Said he’d heard that there had been thieves about lately and didn’t want to take any chances.”
Pip smiled weakly and bent her head to hide the flush of pleasure that dyed her cheeks. It was possible that the reason stated by Alice was the correct one, but Pip could not help feeling that the new lock had been installed to make the one-eyed man’s task more difficult.
And the truth of that feeling was proven later that night when she finally went to her room after Ivy had dismissed her. Pip had entered her tiny quarters. Turning to shut the door, she froze, her stunned gaze encountering the obviously new sturdy brackets and the heavy wooden bar leaning nearby. Almost dazedly she picked up the bar and slid it into place, her thoughts torn between astonishment and thankfulness.
It seemed that the American had been serious about ke
eping her safe from the one-eyed man. But why? she couldn’t help asking herself a few seconds later as she absently lit her stub of a candle and prepared for bed. Sitting on her bed, her chin propped on her knees, in the flickering light of her little candle, she stared at the securely bolted door. No one would be able to enter her room now without her assent, and even though she knew that not the stoutest bar nor the cleverest lock could keep out a determined thief forever, the sight of that hefty wooden bar gave her much comfort. At least tonight she had no fears of being snatched from her bed and taken to the one-eyed man!
But if she had no fears about the one-eyed man tonight, her thoughts about the big American were still muddled. Why was he providing her a place of safety? He’d said she could be useful to him in more ways than one.... How? Even she could see that he didn’t really need an extra servant. So what possible use could he have in mind?
Dressing that evening for the Mortimers’ ball, Royce was wondering acidly if any usefulness that Pip’s startling resemblance to the Earl of St. Audries might serve would be worth the notoriety her presence in his life was causing. The day had not been a pleasant one for him. Scowling as he stood before a cheval glass expertly tying his cravat, he decided that he was heartily sick of turning aside avid and downright impertinent questions about Pip and what he planned to do with her ... and hearing how bloody lucky he was!
Zachary’s two friends had not been loath to spread the further interesting news that the pickpocket had turned out to be a girl! “Devilish fine-looking article! Reminds me of someone, though—think I’ve seen her somewhere before!” Jeremy had told his friends when he had met them at Tattersall’s. Leland had chimed in with “A damned fine piece, to be sure! Jeremy’s right—looks familiar.” And while Zachary had not added much to the conversation, in no time at all the males of polite London were aware of the fact that Royce Manchester had a beautiful young woman he had caught picking his pocket installed in his house on Hanover Square. Once he had seen Jeremy and Leland in the kitchen, Royce had known that it would be impossible to keep Pip’s sex a secret, but he had hoped that word would not spread quite as fast as it had, or that it would not arouse much curiosity on the part of his acquaintances and friends. His hopes were naive and ill founded, as he soon discovered.
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