“A lovely lady,” Tibold reminded him.
“Are you implying I would have ignored her need if she had been old or ugly?”
“Not at all, I’m sure,” Bellwood intervened.
Chase poured him another glass of wine and repressed his annoyance. Tibold was an idiot who drank and gambled too much. His opinion hardly mattered. “You’re starting to lose, Tibold. A break is just what you need. I’ll wager ten pounds that you can’t sit there for five minutes without speaking while I determine if Mrs. Chernov needs a champion.”
Tibold pressed his fingers to his lips and sat back, arms folded. The wager was accepted.
“So what do you know about this reprobate, Griff, and where can I find him?”
“No more than what I just said,” Griffin answered. “I ran into him last year when I was looking for that idiot servant of my mother’s. The one she hired from the poorhouse who showed her thanks by stealing Mother’s cameo and then trying to sell it. I convinced Nesbitt to return it to the rightful owner without an exchange of funds.”
“Where did you meet Nesbitt?”
“Some coffeehouse on neutral ground, though I expect he had as many men lurking about as I did.”
“Can you take me there? Tonight?”
“Good God, no. I’m hardly at my best at the moment. Maybe tomorrow when my head is clear. The thing is, Chase, it was a year ago.”
“You’re getting to be an old man, Griffin,” Tibold said.
“You’ve lost the bet,” Bellwood shot back.
Tibold swore.
“It’s wisdom, you nodcock,” Griffin went on as Tibold slid a chunk of his winnings toward Chase. “Only a complete fool would go traipsing about at this hour in a neighborhood he does not know looking for a thug who likes violence.”
“Tomorrow’s good enough.” Chase poured his winnings into a leather bag and stuffed it in his pocket. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure, but a lovely lady awaits me and I dare not offend her.”
“You haven’t been here an hour!” Tibold groused.
“Yes, and why would I stay longer when there is a beauty warming the bed and waiting for my attention?”
With a hand to his head in salute, Chase left the group before Tibold could start complaining again.
He didn’t have to wait long for Griffin to join him. Even his well-sprung carriage rocked as Griff hefted himself into the seat. Neither spoke until they were well on their way.
“Your secret word codes fascinate me, my lord. I don’t see why you cannot just say, ‘Griff, come with me.’” Griffin laughed, a chortle that always made Chase smile. “No, you give me a code that is so very self-serving. Not that I doubt you could have a lady waiting.”
“I have to preserve my reputation, Griff. It would hardly do me credit if I could not find an interested lady here as easily as I could in London.”
“But why play the rake at all?”
“It’s a distraction that serves my purpose.”
Griff nodded.
Which was another of his assets. Griffin knew when to leave a subject alone.
“So what did you find, Chase? This one’s different from your usual adventure. What can I do to help?”
“Yes, just when I thought even adventures could grow boring, I am truly called on to help someone.”
“A woman. A lady?”
“Very much so, which is its own puzzle, as she is a shopkeeper. All I know is that she was particularly singled out for her ‘most valued possession.’ ” Chase told the story and ended with, “I don’t know what she may be hiding, but I do know she needs help.”
“Shall I nose around and see what more I can find out about Nesbitt, or do you want me to take the last of the night watch?”
“Nesbitt. I’ll take the watch.”
Griffin looked suspicious.
“I cannot lie and say I would object to knowing her better, but I will not take advantage while she is upset.”
“That’s much too noble, Chase.”
“You’re right.” Chase reconsidered his wording. “I will not take any steps that might ruin her reputation.”
“Yes, that’s a little more loosely worded.”
The carriage stopped where Griffin lived with his aging mother and spinster sister. “I will set out first thing in the morning, in disguise. I have not learned to box at Jackson’s as you have. Of course, I could simply bowl the man over and sit on him.” He laughed.
Chase did, too. “I can see the caricature. By Cruikshank, perhaps. With the caption ‘Gentleman proves that might makes right.’ ”
Griffin shook his head despite his amused smile. “All in all, I think I will exercise some restraint, spare my family embarrassment, and pose as a workingman.”
“As you will, Griff.”
Griffin waited until the steps were lowered and then made his way out of the conveyance, the whole rocking as he exited.
Chase waited until his one true friend in Birmingham let himself into the night-dark house, then knocked for the coachman to proceed.
He could never decide whether to feel sorry for the man or not. Trapped in Birmingham by family responsibilities was one way to look at it. But Griffin never complained, even spoke fondly of his mother and his sister. Chase supposed that family was not always an unwelcome presence. Though he was sure unwelcome was the only way to describe his presence among his mother, the duke, and siblings.
As directed, the coachman stopped near the Bull Ring—and wasn’t that a strange name for a shopping arcade? Chase made his way on foot to the next street and Chernov Drapers. Manning was waiting under the streetlamp.
“Nothing amiss, my lord. I spent some time in the back to be sure the sounds I heard were only the night cart on its rounds and not someone who wanted more than leavings of the chamber pots.”
Manning looked more like the boxer he had been than the competent tutor he now was. His size was impressive, but it was his expression that made it clear his tolerance for trouble was minimal at best. The boys in his charge toed the line, there was no doubt about that.
“Off you go, then, Manning. I’ll take over until full light. Have two of the boys find me in a couple of hours, after their breakfast. They can watch the place during the day. Nesbitt has a shop to run himself so I don’t expect any more trouble from him until dark, and by then I will have had some time to talk to him.” He rubbed his hands over his knuckles, hoping that Nesbitt was ready for some rough education. “Oh, and have the boys bring my writing case. The one I use when I travel.”
“Very good, my lord.” With a salute of sorts, Manning handed Chase the white scarf and hurried off down the street.
The sky was beginning to lighten. The old moon gave its bare light and the first of the dairymaids began their morning rounds. They were as interested in flirting with him as they were in selling milk and cream.
Nothing was going to happen, Chase was sure of that. Clearly Nesbitt was taking orders from someone and would not make a move again without further instructions. Chase considered whether one would prefer a hireling with a more independent spirit, one willing to think on his own to finish the job.
It’s what he would have done. But then, no one had ever praised him for following directions well. Even Gentleman Jackson had commented on that, and if there was one place where you wanted to learn fast, it was in a boxing ring.
Chase’s time would be better spent sleeping. He yawned. But he’d told Mrs. Chernov that someone would be on guard all night.
Chase wrapped the white silk scarf around his neck and kept to his task, watching and waiting.
He smiled, thinking about their odd meeting. Even stranger was his reaction to the woman as she ran into him. Even though he was sure she was running from danger, the bash on the head being proof positive, his body, his mind, even his heart had reacted instantly, not to the danger but to the feel of her in his arms.
He would have helped her no matter what, but in that instant he wanted to protect
her, something entirely different from helping a lady in distress.
Before he had seen her face, her clear, direct gaze, her red lips, firm chin, he’d felt a connection with her that was about more than lust. Intimate and lasting, he felt it now as he looked up at the window of her flat and imagined her in bed asleep.
FOUR
Lydia slept better than she had expected, but still there was an ache or two from her unaccustomed run of the night before. She rose and stretched. Delphie had started the fire and the room was overly warm, as it was wont to be. This morning the heat was welcome.
With some curiosity, Lydia went to the window to see what kind of day it promised. And to see if her guard was still on duty. Indeed, there he was. But it was a different man from the one she had seen the night before. This one was taller and not as big, though one would never call him small. While she watched, she saw him raise his hand, holding a walking stick, to cover a yawn, and realized it was Mr. Chase himself.
Delphie bumped through the door from downstairs with the morning tray. Tea in a glass for Grandmama, coffee and one of Mr. Florencio’s rolls for Lydia.
“Delphie, take my roll and coffee to the gentleman outside, the one wearing a white scarf.”
“Missus?” Which was as close as Delphie ever came to saying, “Are you mad?”
“It’s the gentleman who rescued me last night,” Lydia explained. “He has been on guard and deserves some reward.”
“Oh yes, missus. Yes.” Delphie plunked down the heavy tray, wrapped up the bun, and with the cup and saucer in the other hand, hurried down and out the front door of the shop.
It was not at all an elegant presentation, but after a moment of uncertainty, the gentleman accepted both with a bow that Lydia knew would fluster Delphie more than his good looks.
Mr. Chase looked up at her window and raised the cup in salute. For her part, Lydia ignored the gesture but broke all known records for dressing quickly. Delphie returned to do her stays and ties, eager to report her encounter.
“He bowed to me.” Delphie’s awe was clear in her tone. The maid put her mind to Lydia’s stays and when she was finished, added one more thought.
“He’s handsome, too,” Delphie pronounced. “Even handsomer than Mr. C.”
Which is what she had always called Alexei, as if Chernov were as complicated a name as she’d ever heard. Never mind the places in England that were near impossible to pronounce without a guide.
The maid shook her head and lifted the smaller tray that held Grandmama’s tea, opening the door to her bedroom and disappearing inside.
Lydia started downstairs with more than her usual speed, then stopped abruptly, remembered suspicion suddenly complicating her gratitude. How could she have forgotten the possibility that Mr. Chase was the true scoundrel, the one who was after something of hers? That his rescue of her might be part of a greater plan?
By the light of day it did seem rather contrived. And he could not have known she would escape at the precise spot where he was. Unless it was close to the place where he had told Nesbitt to bring her. And why would he pummel Nesbitt? That was easy: For allowing her to escape.
She mulled it over and then decided she was using more imagination than sense. Indeed, the sensible part of her could come up with its own reasons to avoid Mr. Chase, every single one of those reasons circling around her proven attraction to charming rogues.
Instead of hurrying out to the front of the shop, Lydia worked in the back. There were bolts of fabric to rewrap and tidy, though that was usually Ida’s job, and the endless paperwork of both paying and sending bills. When she made her third error in addition, Lydia decided that she had best confront this bête noire and send him on his way once and for all.
The front of the shop was lit only by natural light coming through the windows and the glass in the door, so she could see without being seen. Either Mr. Chase had magically shrunk in size or he had handed his post over to a boy.
The child was wearing the white scarf, though, so Lydia assumed that he was the Chase-appointed day guard, as if a child that size could be any real protection.
At the moment he was playing some sort of punching game with another boy that was bound to end up with one in tears or enraged. Lydia shrugged. This, at least, was not her problem.
She turned to go back to the work room when she spied a slip of paper pushed under the door. The seal was tight, so she had to unbolt and open the door a little to free the message.
Dear Mrs. Chernov,
Good morning. Two reliable boys are on duty today. If there is a problem, one will run for help while the other assists you. Later, before dark, I hope to return with information on Nesbitt, who he is working for and what that miscreant hopes to gain.
Your servant, Chase
Two boys?Were they his boys? Was he married? That possibility had not occurred to her before. Certainly a gentleman would not have his sons stand guard. No matter if he was married or not, a gentleman like Mr. Chase did not have marriage in mind when he flirted with a shopkeeper.
Lydia mumbled a string of unkind words in Russian, not sure if she was more angry with herself or the mysterious Mr. Chase. Even if he was her knight in shining armor and not in collusion with Mr. Nesbitt, there was a far more compelling reason to dismiss his attentions. A woman’s reputation was a fragile thing. She had learned that in a hard school.
Besides, she didn’t need some man’s help. Had she not managed well on her own this last year? She could find out who Nesbitt was working for as easily as Mr. Chase could. She could take Ida’s brother with her. Arnold was strong enough to handle the heavy bolts of fabric like they were kindling. Surely he would be all the threat she needed if she could find Nesbitt’s butcher shop.
Three hours later, Ida came to the door of the back room.
“Mrs. Chernov, there are two boys loitering across the street. Should I have Arnold come round and scare them away?”
“No!” Lydia calmed her voice. She should never have told Ida about the near abduction. Now she would see danger everywhere. “I know who asked them to wait there, and they are doing his bidding.” Vague as this was, Ida nodded and went back to work.
A minute later she was back. “Oowee. Mrs. Chernov, come tell me if you know this man. Or if he is bedeviling those boys.”
Lydia came out into the shop and caught sight of Mr. Chase as he crossed the street with the two boys.
“Yes, yes, that’s their . . .” Lydia was at a loss as to how to describe Mr. Chase’s relationship to the boys. She cleared her throat and tried again. “That’s the man who came to my aid last night. I believe the boys work for him and he asked them to watch out in case Nesbitt came back again.”
“Very strange,” Ida mused, her eyes still glued to the three across the street. “He dresses well.” Ida would notice that, just as Lydia herself had. “And he carries a cane. Just like that gentleman who accompanies Miss Pascal.”
“Mr. Unrow was born a gentleman, but that is his only claim to the honor.” Unrow might have the money to buy Miss Pascal whatever she wanted, but Lydia had no doubt that he had bought Miss Pascal as well.
Ah well, her work was not to judge but to sell whatever she had that they might want to buy. “That’s enough gawking. Back to work, Ida.” Lydia left the window and went behind the counter, wishing a customer would come in so she really would stop thinking about the man outside.
“Yes, Mrs. Chernov, but I can see even from here that he has the devil in his smile.”
Lydia raised her eyes to heaven. Since Ida had found religion among the Presbyterians, it didn’t take much for her to see the devil in anyone. But then, what was the difference between her choice of rogue and Ida’s devil?
“You be careful if he decides to come in here.” Ida’s face reddened at the very idea.
Before Lydia could respond, a carriage pulled up in front of the shop. An outrider jumped down and opened the door just as the carriage came to a complete stop. The step
s were lowered and not a minute later Irina Chernov Allerton filled the shop with her scent and her presence.
“Lydia! What happened last night? Why did you cancel your appointment?” As she spoke she gave Lydia a kiss on both cheeks and tossed her cloak to Ida, who let it fall on the counter.
“Take that and hang it on a hook so it does not wrinkle,” Irina ordered.
Ida did as she was told, but Lydia could hear her grumble as she went into the back.
“I’m so sorry I had to cancel our appointment, Irina. Was Mr. Allerton upset?”
“Well, of course he was. He said that no man would have had any hesitation about venturing out. But I told him you were just being polite, that something terrible must have happened. But now I wonder, as you seem quite all right.”
“I am now.” Lydia glanced out the window but the carriage blocked her view of where Mr. Chase had been standing. “Irina, you will not credit it, but someone tried to abduct me last night, or at least he wanted something from me and was willing to abduct me if I would not give it to him.”
“Oh, dear mother of God, what a hideous experience!” Though Irina said the right words, Lydia could see the gleam of excitement in her eyes. Why was it not nearly as endearing as it had been in Grandmama’s? “Who was it and what did he want?”
“It was a man who was working for someone else. A Russian, he said.”
At that Irina straightened, looking alarmed.
“One of Alexei’s cronies, I suspect.”
Irina nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s possible.”
“He said he wanted my most valued possession.” Lydia touched the coin at her throat.
“What do you think he meant?” Irina asked, looking more suspicious than confused.
“Why, the recipe for the purple dye, of course.”
“Oh yes, and he did not know it actually belongs to Grandmama because it must be kept in the family.”
“Yes, but since I am known as Mrs. Chernov, do you not see that he thought it belonged to me?”
“Yes, of course.” Irina was silent a moment, which was so rare that Lydia wondered what had upset her. “How were you able to escape?”
The Unquiet Page 13