The Saint of Seven Dials: Collector's Edition

by Brenda Hiatt

  Rowena dared a glance at the gentleman, to find him regarding her appraisingly. For a long moment, their eyes met and she felt a quiver in her midsection that was unlike anything she had experienced before.

  "With two skilled opponents, there is no luck involved," he said, taking the chair Pearl had vacated.

  Refusing to let him fluster her, Rowena began placing the pieces back into position for another game, glad of the excuse to break away from his oddly intent gaze. Was this part of his strategy? If so, it certainly wouldn't work on her.

  "I was going to offer to play black, but if you feel I need an advantage, I am willing to take it, after Lady Hardwyck's warning."

  Rowena had unthinkingly set up the board as it had been before, as by tacit agreement she always gave Pearl the first move. Traditionally, of course, a lady played white against a gentleman.

  "I have no idea whether you need an advantage or not, sir," she said stiffly, to hide her embarrassment. "We can reverse the board if you prefer."

  In response, he moved a pawn forward two spaces. "At the risk of taking unfair advantage of a lady, I will leave it as it is."

  She regarded him uncertainly. Was he . . . he couldn't be flirting with her? No, doubtless he was simply smoothing over an awkward moment —an awkwardness of her own making. She moved a pawn herself, then watched the board as he made his next move, trying to concentrate on the pieces rather than the long, strong fingers manipulating them.

  An hour later, Rowena realized she was pitted against the best opponent she had ever faced. After watching for some time, Pearl and Lord Hardwyck had retired to conversation in another corner while Rowena and Mr. Paxton continued to focus on the game.

  Few words had been exchanged between them thus far, but now he said, "I've only seen that defense deployed once before, in Austria. However did you learn of it, Miss Riverstone?"

  Rowena shook free of her strategizing for a moment. "I, ah, I have read about many famous matches over the years. You have been to Austria then, Mr. Paxton?"

  The game had distracted her for a time from his unsettling effect upon her, but the warm timbre of his voice, so deep, so masculine, caused a renewal of that odd quiver in her midsection.

  "Yes, briefly, a year and a half ago." He moved a knight, blocking the line between her bishop and his queen.

  "Were you involved in the Congress of Vienna, then?" she asked with sudden interest. She had assumed his background was in local law enforcement.

  "Not directly involved, no. I had a small role to play, winter before last." He smiled into her eyes, making her breath unaccountably quicken. "Your move, Miss Riverstone."

  With a start, Rowena looked down to discover she had lost the thread of the game. What had she planned to do after circumventing his knight? Frowning, she moved her bishop two squares, hoping the next two obvious moves would nudge her memory for the third.

  "And what of you?" he asked then, surprising her by moving his knight again instead of the pawn she had expected. "Have you been in London long, or did you become so adept at chess elsewhere?"

  Revising her strategy, she took a pawn with her remaining rook, flattered in spite of herself by his words. "I arrived but yesterday. This is the first time I've left Oakshire, actually."

  "Oakshire!" He regarded her keenly. "Then you are a . . . relative of Lady Hardwyck's?"

  She wondered what he'd almost said. "No, a neighbor. Our land adjoins the main Oakshire estate. Pearl, er, Lady Hardwyck and I have known each other all our lives."

  "Ah." His tone implied he had solved some mystery, but she couldn't imagine what it might be.

  Before she could ask, he reached forward to take her rook with his knight. Blast! How had she missed that? She stared at the board, her strategy in shambles. He had left his queen open, however. Seeing little else to do, she took it.

  "You sounded as though my history explained something to you, sir. How so?" She was still scanning the board as she spoke, and saw too late the trap into which she had just fallen.

  "I was wondering how such an intelligent and obviously well-educated woman came to be hired as Lady Hardwyck's companion," he replied, moving his knight again. "Checkmate."

  Rowena wasn't sure whether she was more stunned by his assumption or by losing so abruptly and disastrously. She stared at the board, then at him, totally at a loss for words. His eyebrows rose questioningly.

  "Congratulations," she said, belatedly gathering her wits.

  "Another game?"

  Shaken by her first loss in years— since old Mr. Winston, the vicar, had died, in fact— she shook her head. "I believe Lord Hardwyck expressed an interest in playing the winner."

  She knew she should correct his misconception about her place in the Hardwyck household but couldn't think how, without being rude. How dare you assume I'm merely Pearl's companion? No. Do you assume any plain woman must be a servant? Still worse.

  Seeing the game was at an end, Pearl and Lord Hardwyck came forward. "Never say you beat her, Mr. Paxton?" Pearl exclaimed. "You must tell me how you managed it, for I never have."

  "I fear I distracted her with personal questions," Mr. Paxton confessed with a smile. "Unsporting of me, but I was growing desperate."

  "Do not discredit yourself, sir," said Rowena, stung. "Nor need you patronize me. I am not so easily flustered, I assure you, and know when I have been fairly beaten."

  Even as she spoke, however, she knew her words were false. He had distracted her, not only with conversation but with his very presence. She would far rather proclaim him a superior player than admit to such weakness, however. Especially since it now seemed clear he was merely being kind to Pearl's poor "companion."

  "As you wish, Miss Riverstone." The glint in his hazel eyes told her he understood all too well.

  Hastily, she turned away. "I believe I will go up to bed, if you will all excuse me. I have not yet become accustomed to Town hours."

  "Of course, dear," said Pearl. "I will see you upstairs and make certain you do not lack anything. Gentlemen, if you will excuse us? I will return in a moment."

  Lord Hardwyck and Mr. Paxton bid Rowena good night, then settled down to the chessboard as the ladies left the parlor.

  "Poor Luke doesn't stand a chance," Pearl confided as they climbed the staircase. "I have beaten him the few times we have played. He didn't have many chances to— that is—" She broke off.

  Rowena scarcely noticed, her mind still on the scene below.

  "Did you know that Mr. Paxton thinks I am your companion? Your paid companion?" She was still outraged.

  "No, really? How absurd!" Pearl exclaimed with a laugh. "What did he say when you corrected him?"

  "I, er, didn't," Rowena confessed. "I didn't wish to seem rude, you see—"

  "So instead you accused him of patronizing you." Pearl still seemed amused. "Really, though, his mistake was understandable, seeing how you are dressed. Perhaps now you'll be willing to take my advice and buy a few new gowns?"

  For the first time, Rowena considered Pearl's question seriously. She had always maintained that men who focused on such externals —nearly all men, in her experience —were not worth regretting. Now, however, she realized that there might be a more important issue at stake.

  Men, after all, were the shapers of England's laws, much as she might wish otherwise. To influence those laws, she would have to influence those men. Pearl, clearly, was able to do so more effectively than she herself, no doubt due partly to her appearance. Could she, just possibly, increase her own influence by taking a page from Pearl's book?

  Rowena nodded. "Yes, I believe I will."

  "Spendid! We'll go shopping tomorrow," Pearl promised as they reached the upper hallway.

  For a moment Rowena allowed herself to imagine Mr. Paxton's expression should he see her again, dressed as Pearl was. In such guise, would she be able to distract him into losing a game of chess? She almost grinned at the thought, but then the pleasant fantasy dissipated.

&
nbsp; A new gown and hairstyle would never turn her into a beauty —and there were still her spectacles. All she could really hope to do was fit in, so that she could meet men of influence —and perhaps become a person of some small influence herself.

  "I shall rely on your guidance to help me look my best," she told Pearl as they reached her room.

  Her friend seemed so delighted at the prospect that Rowena wasn't sure whether to be pleased or concerned —or even insulted. Pearl directed a maid to see to Rowena's comfort, then kissed her cheek. "Good night, dear. I am so glad you're here, and I'm quite looking forward to tomorrow."

  "So am I," Rowena echoed, and realized to her surprise that it was true.

  * * *

  As Pearl had predicted, Noel was finding Luke a far less challenging opponent than Miss Riverstone. By the time Lady Hardwyck returned to the parlor, the outcome was assured. Five minutes later, Luke conceded the game.

  "Perhaps you can tutor me in chess while I tutor you in larceny," Luke suggested without rancor as he stood.

  Noel glanced at Lady Hardwyck in alarm, but she appeared merely surprised, not shocked. She regarded her husband with an upraised brow.

  "You've told him, then?"

  Luke shrugged. "He already knew. We were both merely pretending otherwise. Now Marcus has retired, Noel is interested in taking over himself —for various reasons."

  "And you've agreed to help him." The look she sent Noel was less than approving.

  "Only with advice, my lady," he assured her. "Lord Hardwyck will be in no danger from the law."

  She glanced at her husband, seeking reassurance, and apparently received it, for her expression softened to a smile. "As you are the law in this case, Mr. Paxton, I suppose you can be trusted to know."

  "The irony has not escaped me," he said with an answering smile. "I suppose, in conscience, I should turn the investigation over to someone else to avoid a conflict of interest, but as that investigation is my ostensible reason for being in Town, I'll simply have to work very hard at catching myself."

  They all laughed, but then Noel became serious. "You said there are people I will need to meet, if I am to take up the Saint's mantle," he reminded Luke.

  The earl nodded. "You've already met one of them —the young footman who refilled the glasses at dinner. He used to go by the name of Squint when he lived on the streets, though now we call him Steven."

  "Then he was one of the youths who used to help the Saint?" During his investigation, Noel had been thwarted more than once by that loyal regiment of street urchins.

  "It would be fairer to say that the Saint helped him," Lady Hardwyck said, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Most of our servants have been rescued from the streets, in fact."

  Noel nodded, beginning to understand. "So your goals never changed —merely your methods. I salute you, my lord, my lady. However, your former methods are what I need to master now."

  "And for that you will need the trust of those you would help," Luke said. "Where are you staying?"

  "I have lodgings on Long Acre, near Bow Street."

  "Excellent placement —only two streets away from Seven Dials. But for the next few days, I'd like to invite you to stay here as my guest. It will . . . simplify things."

  This caught Noel by surprise, though it made sense. Frequent visits here might be noticed, while an extended visit would require but one explanation. "What will we give out as the reason for my stay?" he asked, suspecting Lord Hardwyck had already concocted one.

  "My wife and I have decided to have a house-party before everyone returns to their country seats. Have we not, my love?"

  Though it was clear that this was the first Lady Hardwyck had heard of such a scheme, her eyes lit at once. "Indeed we have. We may even induce some of those who have already left Town to return for a week or two. It will be just the thing for Rowena, now that I think on it."

  Confused, Noel asked, "Miss Riverstone, you mean? Your companion?" He wondered how he would keep his secret from that very intelligent lady while under this roof.

  To his surprise, Lady Hardwyck laughed. "She is my friend, Mr. Paxton, not my companion. Her brother keeps a house on Hay Street, but I induced her to stay with me so that we could spend more time together."

  With a start, Noel realized that Miss Riverstone's brother must be Sir Nelson Riverstone, a senior clerk at the Home Office and son of the late Sir Nelson, who had been a powerful political figure until his death. No wonder she'd been upset when he had all but called her a servant to her face. He'd thought she was merely irritated at losing a hard-fought game of chess.

  "Pray convey my apologies to Miss Riverstone," he said to Lady Hardwyck. "I fear I implied—"

  "An understandable mistake. I've told her for years she should pay more attention to her appearance. But I'll tell her."

  "I presume you'll want to send for a few things?" Luke asked Noel then. "You may as well stay the night, so that we can get started. Once other guests arrive, we may find it more difficult to be private."

  Noel blinked, pulling his thoughts away from the intriguing Miss Riverstone. "Yes, of course. I'll have Kemp, my manservant, bring what I'll need." He quickly scrawled a note and sent it with a footman —the one Luke had called Squint, in fact.

  "Now then," said Luke once that was done. "How are you at picking locks?"

  Even as Noel explained his experience in that area, acquired during his years spying in France, his thoughts strayed again to Miss Riverstone.

  She might be the very link he needed to the Home Office. The Bishop was obtaining information from someone there, he was certain. Perhaps her brother, Sir Nelson Riverstone . . .

  Sudden excitement gripped him. Mr. R? He couldn't go about suspecting every man with a surname beginning with that letter, of course, but Riverstone's estate was in Oakshire—Miss Riverstone had said so. Oakshire, where at least one of those mysterious essays had originated. And he worked at the Home Office, from which certain documents had been stolen—

  "Mr. Paxton?" Lady Hardwyck recalled him to his surroundings.

  "I'm sorry, my lady. I was recalling a particularly harrowing experience on the outskirts of Paris." He told of the time he had nearly been caught meeting his contact, during the monthes he had spent disguised as a servant in Fouche's own household.

  Not until Lord and Lady Hardwyck began speaking again did he pursue this new train of thought.

  He must get to know Miss Riverstone better, he decided —much better. If he could win her trust and liking, she might be able to tell him all he needed to know about her brother, and perhaps even introduce him to his newest suspect. As a potential suitor?

  Noel smiled to himself. He rather doubted Miss Riverstone had had many suitors. It should not be difficult to turn her head with compliments and discover everything he needed to know.

  Though deadly serious, this investigation might prove to have its charms. Along the way to his goal, he could look forward to many more stimulating chess matches, at the very least. And perhaps to other, even more enjoyable diversions—all in the name of duty.

  CHAPTER 3

  Rowena was surprised to hear male voices in the dining room when she descended to breakfast the next morning —and even more surprised to discover Mr. Paxton helping himself from the sideboard.

  "Good morning, Rowena," Pearl said brightly from the table, before she could speak. "I expected you to be up before any of us, but then I remembered that you would still be tired from your two-day journey. I hope you slept well?"

  Flustered by being the focus of three pairs of eyes— and particularly by one intense pair of hazel eyes— Rowena nodded. "Yes, I, ah, slept perfectly well, thank you."

  "Good, because you'll need your energy for our shopping expedition today. I've decided to throw a house party, so I'll want to buy a few things for myself, as well."

  Rowena regarded Pearl suspiciously. "A house party? In London? I thought those were country affairs."

  "I've n
ever been one to bow to convention, you know that. We haven't had so much as a real dinner party here since our return to Town, so this will be a way to welcome all of our acquaintances to Hardwyck Hall and chase away old ghosts, as it were." She and Lord Hardwyck exchanged amused glances.

  Mr. Paxton had finished filling his plate, so Rowena moved to the sideboard as he took his place at the table. "I see," she said, though she did not really see at all. "Shall I return to my brother's house? You will be terribly crowded here."

  "Certainly not. I'm counting on you to help me. I will send out invitations today for a ball Friday, which will open the party. Most of the guests will undoubtedly prefer to sleep at their own houses and come only for the activities, so I don't foresee a shortage of rooms."

  "Activities?" Rowena asked weakly.

  "She's been planning since daybreak," Lord Hardwyck said with a chuckle. "Picnics, group excursions to the 'Change, whist tournaments —what else, my dear?"

  Pearl cheerfully listed off half a dozen other amusements while Rowena listened in dismay, forgetting the fragrant sausages and pastries before her. So many opportunities for her to embarrass herself —and Pearl as well.

  During the litany she glanced over at Mr. Paxton and saw that he looked nearly as bemused as she felt. It heartened her a bit, especially when he caught her eye and sent her a rueful grin and slight shrug.

  "I told you, did I not, that I intended to make sure you enjoy your stay in London," Pearl concluded. "This way, you'll see everything it has to offer, over the course of a week or two."

  So, it seemed last night's resolve to enter Society was to be put to an immediate test.

  "Yes, I . . . suppose I will. Thank you." She would not appear ungrateful, not when Pearl was going to so much trouble. She only hoped that both of them would not live to regret it.

  Belatedly remembering her breakfast, she filled a plate and took the same seat she had occupied at dinner, across from Mr. Paxton. Their earlier shared glance of sympathy made it less awkward than she had expected, though her pulse still quickened.