Nowhere Near Respectable

by Mary J. Putney

  He gave a twisted smile. “Ironic that I expend great effort to make this club safe for all comers, yet I find myself worrying about such a very capable young lady.”

  “There is no need to concern yourself with me,” she said tartly.

  They turned into a left-hand corridor, then again to the right. “You have a maze of passages here,” she said as they walked toward the back of the building.

  He tugged off his mask. “The club was created from three separate buildings. Lots of corridors, not much logic. That door on the right is my office.”

  Instead of entering, he gazed at her intently. Then he raised one hand and pulled off her mask, his hand a feather caress on her hair. The air between them rose to simmering point. “When we were in the barn, I collected a nonmonetary reward,” he said huskily. “But since you’re repaying my money, I must give back what I took.”

  He drew her into his arms and returned her kiss with interest.

  Oh, damnation! Kiri thought helplessly as her mouth opened eagerly under his. The blazing reaction she’d had when they first met wasn’t a fluke. She wanted to sink into him, talk to him, laugh with him, and the attraction was as much mental as physical.

  But he was a man of the world who had surely desired many women. And acted on that, or he wouldn’t be so very skilled at dissolving her wits. Or at finding sensitive places and teasing her tongue and rubbing her back so that she melted into him.

  She forced herself to remember that some of London’s most celebrated beauties were his regular guests, including married women ripe for dalliance. That recognition gave her the willpower to say breathlessly, “Kiss returned in full measure.” She broke away from his embrace. “Once I return the money, our accounts are in balance.”

  He stared at her for a long, tense moment before opening the door to his office. She stepped in and was startled to see a dark-haired man standing over the desk as he examined a portfolio of papers. She had a swift impression of alertness and danger.

  The man looked up, his expression instantly changing to amiable warmth. Good Lord, it was her brother’s school friend, Lord Kirkland! A wealthy Scottish shipping merchant, Kirkland visited London regularly and called on Adam and Mariah when he was in Town. She’d always found Kirkland courteous, amusing, and rather enigmatic. She had not thought of him as dangerous.

  He bowed elegantly. “Lady Kiri. I suppose I shouldn’t ask why you’re here.” He smiled, the tanned skin crinkling around his eyes. “Mackenzie told me the story of your adventure, in case you were wondering.”

  “I was,” she admitted as she offered her hand. “I am here to repay a debt, but I also wished to see the dazzling Damian’s of which I’ve heard.”

  “I hope you’re enjoying your visit?”

  “Oh, yes,” she assured him. “The club lives up to its reputation.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight, Kirkland,” Mackenzie remarked as he moved a framed satirical sketch, revealing a wall safe with a sophisticated-looking lock.

  “Something came up that I need to discuss with you,” Kirkland explained. “Just a small matter of business.” His words were light, but his eyes were serious.

  “It’s not generally known,” Mackenzie said as he unlocked the safe, “but Kirkland and I are partners in Damian’s.”

  Kirkland shrugged. “Mac does all the work. I helped with the boring financing, and a profitable investment the club has been.”

  Mackenzie grinned. “Money may seem boring, but it was essential.”

  Reminded of money, Kiri unbuttoned her domino so she could reach the pouch containing the guineas. As she handed the money over, she said formally, “Mr. Mackenzie, my thanks for your courage and willingness to cheat at cards.”

  He laughed as he accepted the money, but as his fingertips brushed hers, she felt a tingle like a small electric shock. It would be so much easier if the attraction had only been a result of their shared adventure! But there was more to it than that. She felt—connected to him in some way. Keeping her voice light, she asked, “Aren’t you going to count to see if it’s the full fifty guineas?”

  Mackenzie’s brows arched. “You’d be more likely to overpay than to underpay.” He tossed the pouch thoughtfully. “But given my vast experience of handling money, I’d say this is exactly fifty guineas.”

  He was damnably perceptive. She’d thought of putting more money in the pouch but didn’t know how to price what he’d done for her. “Since my business is done, I shall leave you two gentlemen.” When Mackenzie moved to join her, she raised a hand. “No need, Mr. Mackenzie. I can find my way back. It’s almost time for me to collect my companion and leave.”

  “I’m glad to see that you recovered from the kidnapping,” he said politely, but his eyes showed a wary longing that matched hers. At least she wasn’t the only one who was disturbed by this unwelcome attraction.

  Kiri opened the office door, wondering what intense, manly things would be discussed when she was out of earshot. As she stepped out, her eye was caught by movement to her right, near the end of the corridor where it intersected another.

  She turned to look, then sucked in her breath, shocked. Five masked men were dragging off a smaller figure—who wore a dark purple domino.

  “Mackenzie! Kirkland!” she said sharply. “A woman is being attacked!”

  She raced down the corridor. As she ran, she undid the last button on her domino and let it fall away to free herself from the enveloping folds of fabric. Behind her, she heard Mackenzie and Kirkland emerging from the office to follow her.

  The attackers and their victim disappeared down the cross corridor to the right. When she reached the intersection, she saw that the short passage ended in a door that led to the alley behind the club. The kidnappers were almost at the door, and this close, Kiri confirmed that their victim was the girl she’d talked to earlier.

  The struggling girl’s mask had been ripped off and a heavy hand was clamped over her mouth. Why would five men capture an innocent girl? A drunken bet? Desire for gang rape?

  Though she couldn’t stop five men by herself, she could slow them for critical seconds until Mackenzie and Kirkland arrived. With warrior exhilaration, she attacked with a banshee wail, using her Kalarippayattu to confuse and disorient the kidnappers.

  The men turned, startled by her cry. She leaped into a flying kick, the toe of her riding boot smashing between the legs of the last man in the group. “Thug!” she spat.

  He shrieked horribly and folded to the floor, clutching himself. Giving thanks she’d worn a riding skirt and boots, she pulled out the neat little knife she’d taken from a smuggler. When she stabbed the next man, he howled and retreated, the knife so deeply buried in the muscle of his left arm that the handle was wrenched from her hand.

  “Out now! ” a tall man barked in a voice of authority. He seemed to be the leader, and he had the kidnapped girl beside the outside door.

  There was no time to waste retrieving the knife when the other men were on the verge of dragging their captive out of the building. Kiri rushed the kidnappers—and found herself looking down the barrel of a pistol held by the largest, most threatening of the men.

  Since the corridor offered no place to hide, she began zigzagging and praying that he’d miss when he shot. He smiled nastily and took aim.

  A boom echoed through the corridor and the big man’s face disintegrated into smashed bone and blood. A pistol ball had struck dead center. His weapon fired harmlessly into the wall as he collapsed.

  Kiri glanced back and saw Kirkland standing at the intersection with a smoking pistol in his hand, his face icily calm as he reloaded. Mackenzie had caught up with the other kidnappers and was using his fists with the ruthless professionalism of a boxer.

  The leader reached for the doorknob, his other hand locked on the girl’s upper arm. Kiri caught up with him and kicked the arm holding his captive.

  Swearing, he lost his grip. Kiri wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist
and dragged her away. The leader lunged toward them to retrieve his captive. “No, damn you! You’re too valuable a pigeon to fly away!”

  Something about him said that he was expensive and fashionable. Kiri jabbed him in the throat with stiffened fingers.

  He made a gagging sound. Furious defeat in his pale, angry eyes, he wrenched the door open and half fell outside. Two of his men crowded out behind him.

  Mackenzie thundered up as the kidnappers escaped. “Bloody bastards!” he swore as he followed them into the dark alley. “They’ll not get away with this!”

  As the door slammed shut behind him, Kiri kept a firm arm around the shaking girl. “Are you all right?”

  The girl nodded, tears on her cheeks despite her valiant efforts to control them. Though she was attractive, she wasn’t such a raving beauty as to drive men mad. And she looked very, very young. “They . . . they didn’t hurt me.”

  Kirkland joined them, pistol pointing toward the floor. “At least we stopped them before they . . .”

  His voice fell into stunned silence as he stared at the girl in the purple domino. He sank down on one knee, his head bowed. “Your Royal Highness. Thank God you are safe.”

  Your Royal Highness? Kiri stared at the girl with shock, then sudden paralyzed understanding.

  They had just rescued Princess Charlotte, only legitimate daughter of the prince regent, and the heiress of England.

  Chapter 13

  Kiri had never met Princess Charlotte, since the girl was only sixteen and led a famously sheltered life. But she had the look of the royal House of Hanover. She was above-average height, fair haired, and full figured.

  More to the point, Kirkland seemed to have no doubt of her identity. Since the princess looked as if she could now stand on her own, Kiri released her and curtsied deeply. “Your Royal Highness, forgive me if my behavior lacked decorum.”

  “I owe you thanks for your efforts on my behalf.” Charlotte’s light blue eyes brightened. “I didn’t know a woman could fight like that!”

  “I was trained in an ancient Hindu martial art,” Kiri explained as she straightened. Her heart was pounding from the fight and this astonishing meeting. “But without Lord Kirkland and Mr. Mackenzie, we both would have been in trouble.”

  The princess’s gaze went to the bloody corpse of the man Kirkland had shot. Another man lay facedown on the floor. He was unconscious and blood pooled around him, but he was still breathing. Kiri thought he might be the kidnapper she’d stabbed in the arm, but couldn’t bear to look to see if her knife was still in him.

  Charlotte’s face paled at the sight of the bodies and she began to sway unsteadily. Kiri caught her arm. “I’ll take Her Highness to the office. Is there any brandy there?”

  “In the cabinet. After you’ve given her some, pull the bell cord hard three times. That will bring two guards.” Kirkland radiated rigidly controlled shock. “The princess must be taken home safely. How did you travel to the club, Kiri?”

  “Sarah Clarke-Townsend and I came together, driven by Adam’s head groom.”

  “Send one of the guards to find Sarah and bring her to the office. The other guard can locate Murphy’s carriage and have him bring it down the alley on the side of the building. You and Sarah can escort the princess home with Murphy and the guards for protection.” Kirkland studied the fallen men with a flinty gaze. “I’ll see if I can learn anything about these fellows and their purpose.”

  It was a relief to turn into the main corridor, out of sight of the blood and bodies. Kiri guided the princess toward the office, supporting part of the girl’s weight. She retrieved the domino she’d dropped, chilled by the realization that this must not have been a random attack. The five men had recognized the princess and deliberately kidnapped her. But why? And how had they known where to find her?

  After they entered the office, she guided Charlotte to the most comfortable chair. “I imagine you came here for a bit of adventure, and this is more than you bargained for.”

  Charlotte smiled crookedly. “I am treated as a child and not allowed to go into society, but Damian’s is said to be safe. I live in Warwick House, quite near here, so after my governess and the rest of my household retired, I slipped out with a domino and mask I’d borrowed from my mother.”

  “You walked over alone?” Kiri tried not to sound appalled.

  “No one accosted me.” The princess looked wistful. “It was so exciting to be out on my own instead of living in a cage. Once I reached Damian’s, I thought I was safe. I was having a lovely time. Then a man in one of the gaming parlors said, ‘Your Highness?’ I looked around, of course, forgetting that no one should know. That man and several others drew around me so no one could see when the leader grabbed me and put a hand over my mouth. They whisked me from the gaming room into a corridor. I struggled, but had no chance against them all. If not for you . . .” She shuddered.

  “Time for that brandy.” Kiri opened a likely looking cabinet and found spirits and glasses. Picking the bottle with a silver collar that said “Cognac,” she poured a generous dose and handed it to the princess. “Best drink slowly. I’m sure it’s powerful.”

  Charlotte sipped cautiously, choked a little, sipped some more. “You were right, but it’s most invigorating.”

  Kiri poured another glass. “With your permission?” Not waiting for a reply, she took a swallow, grateful for the electrifying burn as it rolled down her throat. “Like you, I’ve had more adventure than I expected.”

  Charlotte emptied her glass and held it out for more. “Pray introduce yourself and my other brave rescuers.”

  Kicking herself for such an elementary failing, Kiri replied, “I am Lady Kiri Lawford, sister of the Duke of Ashton.”

  Charlotte’s gaze sharpened. “So you’re half Hindu, as he is? No wonder you are so beautiful and know exotic fighting skills!” She looked envious.

  Kiri blushed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. The two men are Lord Kirkland, who recognized you, and Mr. Mackenzie, owner of Damian’s.” She pulled hard at the bell cord, then sat down and concentrated on her brandy. “Before the guards arrive, you may wish to don your mask.”

  Charlotte did so immediately. “If this becomes known, there will be a frightful scandal, won’t there?”

  “A scandal, and public outrage on your behalf.” Kiri hesitated, wondering if the princess was so shielded that she didn’t know her own position. “You are immensely popular with the public, Your Highness. Far more so than your father.”

  Charlotte’s face lit up. “Really?”

  “Really.” The girl’s happiness about her popularity hurt Kiri’s heart. Her parents, the prince regent and his German cousin, Caroline of Brunswick, should never have married. They loathed each other and had separated not long after Charlotte’s birth. Too many of their conflicts had played out with their hapless daughter as a pawn.

  The two guards arrived quickly, both of them tall, brawny men dressed in black evening wear. Kiri recognized them as footmen who’d served champagne in the public rooms. They looked intelligent as well as strong. “Lord Kirkland wishes for one of you to locate a particular carriage with a driver named Murphy.” She described the small, shabby vehicle they’d used rather than one with the Ashton crest.

  “Yes, miss,” one of the men said. He bobbed his head and left the room.

  Kiri turned to the other footman, who had the battered features of a former boxer. “Your task is to locate one of the guests and bring her here. She is petite, wearing a dark blue domino, and with gold sequins sparkling on her mask.”

  He frowned. “She is unlikely to come away with a stranger.”

  Realizing he was right, Kiri said, “Say the message is from Mumtaz.”

  After he left, Charlotte asked, “What is Mumtaz?”

  “Mumtaz Mahal was the most beloved wife of a great Moghul ruler, Shah Jahan,” Kiri explained. “He was devastated by her death in childbirth. He built the Taj Majal in her memory, and it is surely the most beau
tiful tomb in the world.”

  Charlotte’s eyes rounded. “What a romantic story!”

  “I think it would be more romantic if they’d lived happily together to a great age,” Kiri said dryly. “Because Mumtaz was the object of great love and devotion, I used the name for the perfume I created for Miss Clarke-Townsend.”

  “You make perfumes?” The princess’s gaze approached hero worship. “You do so many interesting things!”

  “The women in my mother’s family have a long tradition of making perfume,” Kiri said. “In India, many of the scents are from incense, so I find great pleasure in exploring the floral essences of Europe.”

  She almost offered to demonstrate how perfumes were made, but stopped herself. Charlotte wasn’t allowed many visitors, and Kiri wouldn’t be one of them. After tonight, the princess might be locked up in the Tower of London by her father.

  Her glass was empty, so she set it aside. “I’m concerned about Mr. Mackenzie, who went outside in pursuit of the kidnappers. I hope he has returned safely. Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes? I’ll be within calling distance.”

  Charlotte extended her brandy glass again. “With more cognac, I shall be fine.”

  Kiri raised the decanter, but cautioned, “Much more and you probably won’t feel fine in the morning!”

  “You cannot imagine how much I long for dissipation!” Charlotte declared with a slightly intoxicated gleam in her eyes.

  She sounded like Sarah. Well-born girls were hedged in dreadfully, and royal princesses most of all.

  After pouring more brandy for Charlotte, Kiri left the office and walked swiftly to the scene of carnage in the cross corridor. Kirkland knelt by one of the kidnappers, his expression grim as he closed the man’s eyes. The other man lay on his side, his ruined face invisible, for which Kiri was grateful. “Mr. Mackenzie hasn’t returned?”

  “Not yet, but don’t worry,” Kirkland said reassuringly. “Mac is very good at taking care of himself.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She looked away from the fallen men, the brandy roiling in her stomach. “This fellow was still breathing when we went into the office. He was mortally wounded?”