by Jade Lee
“So you see,” she said slowly and rather awkwardly. “You really, well, you shouldn’t call me angel anymore. I-I really am not.”
He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs shudder with the gasp. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
She pushed her lips together and arched her brows. It was a perfect imitation of a courtesan’s arch look, but he knew it was a lie. Still, the sight shocked him to the core. She should not be talking like this. She should not be thinking this!
He stepped backward, the movement difficult because his body was rock hard with lust. “I shall kill your uncle.”
Her lips curved into a soft smile that quickly faded when she realized he was not exaggerating. “Kit. Oh no, Kit. You cannot.” But he was turning away from her, his mind and body at war and both too far gone for reason. “Kit!”
She grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward her. He used the motion, spinning around until he caught her. His force was so great that he lifted her off her feet to set her rather hard down on a bench. She sat with a gasp and he continued the motion, flowing to the ground until he was kneeling before her.
“You will not become a housekeeper or a governess and certainly not a damned tart!” he snarled. “And you will not have to tolerate that bastard for one damn second more—”
“Kit . . .” she began, but he shook her off. Pulling out the check from his pocket, he shoved it at her. “Take it. Take it all, Maddy. It will be enough for a while. Certainly for a room. You can get better when Rose inherits—”
“Kit!” she cried, her eyes flashing fire.
“But do not go back there now. Not until I can—”
“Mr. Frazier!”
He gasped, the use of his proper name too shocking from her. His words stopped. His breath stopped. And that gave her time to straighten up from the bench and step carefully away from him.
“Angel—”
“Don’t speak of those things again, Mr. Frazier. He is my uncle.”
“He has made you into his mistress! He has ruined your life and any future—”
She held up her hand to stop him. It was an imperious gesture and one he forced himself to obey.
“I will not have you murder anyone for me. Villainous as he is, I will not have it.” She leaned forward. “Kit, it would ruin your life and do nothing to save mine.” Likewise, she took the check and pressed it back into his hand. “And I will not take your money either. Only what I have earned. Good God, Kit, do you think me so delicate that I cannot survive this?”
“Angel—”
“Stop calling me that! I am no delicate creature! I have sat and watched my father wither away before my very eyes. I stood helpless while everything he owned was sold off and I was packed off on a mail cart to London where I knew no one. Uncle Frank gave me a home and a purpose in caring for his house and for Rose. So what that he manipulated things to his advantage? Everyone wants more, everything is done as a manipulation for something else. Even that check. I know every word you uttered was a lie. Even the baroness knew, but she likes a romantic tale and so we gave her one. Why? For the money. For independence. For survival.”
He stared at her then, his heart clamoring in his throat. He stared and was hard put not to sob. When had she become so cold? When had she become as cynical as a slave?
“No,” he whispered, unwilling to see her in such a harsh light.
“Yes,” she repeated firmly. Then her expression softened. “Tell me something, Kit, did you kill the pirate who owned you?”
“Eventually.”
“But you bought your freedom at first, right?”
He nodded.
“Then allow me to do the same. Allow me to purchase my independence without murder or bloodshed.”
He swallowed. She was too innocent to see that it would mean nothing to him to kill her bastard of an uncle. He had killed before. He had murdered and not thought twice about it.
Except, of course, that was a lie. He had thought about it. And dreamed it. Most especially now when it was over. It haunted him. Even if she did not do the deed, her uncle’s death would haunt her too. She would feel like she was responsible and would eat herself alive with guilt. He could not do that to her. He could not doom her to live as he did, with terrors by night and uneasy pretense by day.
“Maddy,” he whispered, though in his mind he still called her angel. “You are so much stronger than I ever imagined.”
“And you, Kit, are the answer to my prayers. Will you let me sell your jewelry? Will you help me gain my independence?”
“Yes,” he said. Of course he said yes, though he would have to find more jewelry for her to sell. He would do anything for her. And he would also have a long visit with her uncle Frank.
Chapter 22
Maddy didn’t make it to the employment center. She barely made it home in time for dinner. Instead, she asked Kit to show her all the jewelry he wished to sell. That necessitated a trip to the bank where the gems were held in a safety-deposit box. He was right that there wasn’t a great deal, and much of it was bent or damaged in some way. But she committed his supply to memory and began thinking of wealthy aristocrats who could be induced to purchase them. That had taken all afternoon such that she barely had time to catch a cab back home. But on the bright side, their trip to the bank had also allowed Kit to deposit his check from the baron and to help her open an account in her name alone. She had money! She had sat there and watched him figure her percentage of the sale and saw the clerk write it down. That money would be credited to her account by day’s end. She was no longer impoverished, and the feeling was beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
Money of her own! How liberating it was! Was this how courtesans felt when their protectors handed them presents of money or jewelry? Was this how the lowest street tart felt when she was paid? No wonder women chose to step across the moral line. She had options now. Enough money to live in a modest room for months! She was not wholly dependent on anyone, least of all Uncle Frank. And better yet, she had not lost her principles to achieve this sweet heaven of coinage.
Sadly, the moment she returned home, all her exuberance disappeared. The butler informed her that she had had a visitor that afternoon. Looking at the card, Maddy felt her breath freeze in her throat. Mr. Wakely! In the excitement of the sale to the baroness, she had completely forgotten their appointment! She could have sealed his proposal today, she realized. Instead, she had been away from home with Kit.
With her spirits suitably lowered from that horrible realization, Maddy trudged up the stairs. She would have to hurry to dress for dinner. But the moment she made it to the top of the stairs, Rose came barreling out of her bedroom with a squeal of excitement.
“You’re home! Finally! I have been on pins and needles all afternoon to know. Did you accomplish it? Did the baroness buy that ugly thing? Will she wear it tonight?”
Maddy held up her hand, her lips curving at the girl’s enthusiasm. “Yes and yes, sweetheart. Now give me a moment to change for dinner.”
“Oh, don’t bother. Father’s at his club tonight, so it is just us two. We’ll order trays brought up to my room and you’ll tell me all about what happened!”
Maddy paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her cousin. “So you have spoken with your father?”
Rose shrugged as she grabbed Maddy’s arm and dragged her down the hall. “Father wasn’t in a talkative mood,” she groused.
A moment later they were in Rose’s bedroom, stretched over her bed. Rose lay on her stomach, her feet kicking into the air, while Maddy reclined back against the post.
“Sweeting,” Maddy said, the tension mounting in her belly. “What does that mean about your father? Were you able to talk with him at all?”
Rose huffed as she flipped over onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “I told him that it was beyond horrible of him to throw you out of the house. That I wouldn’t stand for it. You’re like my sister and I want you here with me.”
“He patted me on the cheek and said that you weren’t going anywhere.” She kinked her head back toward Maddy. “Then he added that I shouldn’t think of you as my sister. You’re more like a friend or a mother who has come to stay for an extended visit. Whatever did he mean by that?”
Maddy swallowed and clenched her hands tight in her lap. It meant, of course, that Uncle Frank expected her to succumb to his pressure and become his mistress. What he didn’t know was that Kit had given her another choice than to be bedded by her uncle. But she couldn’t say that to Rose. No good could come from revealing the man’s perfidy to his daughter. So Maddy chose a coward’s lie.
“I have no idea whatsoever,” she said firmly.
Rose narrowed her gaze, her eyes searching her cousin’s face with too much intelligence. Maddy did her best to look completely unreadable. It would only take a moment and then Rose would become distracted by something new.
Sure enough, after two long breaths, Rose heaved a sigh of disgust. “Very well. So tell me about the old bat. She bought the broach?”
“Rose! You shouldn’t say—”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she said as she flipped back onto her stomach. “But tell me what happened.”
It was an easy request to fulfill. Maddy was still brimming over with everything, and it was wonderful to have a sister to share it with. She launched into a detailed recounting of the sale. She relayed every bit of the story of the princess and the sailor, and even allowed Rose to embellish the tale, making it even more spectacularly romantic.
“So she will wear it tonight?” Rose asked as she bounced up onto her knees.
“I suggested it just before we left and she thought it a capital idea.”
“Whee!” Rose squealed in delight as she leaped forward to hug her cousin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have arranged everything perfectly!”
Maddy hugged her cousin back because Rose was always delightful, even when she made no sense. “You’re welcome, my dear, but I don’t know exactly what I have arranged.”
“It will all happen tonight!” she gasped. “My pirate prince will hear me praise that ugly thing to the skies. I shall wish and moan and wonder just how I could get my hands on such a fantastic thing. With my influence as a fashion leader, I shall make pirate treasure just the thing for everyone.”
Maddy couldn’t object to that. Not if she were going to get a commission on each of those sales. “But . . . pirate prince?”
“Well, that is Mr. Frazier, of course. And I shall be his beauty. That story he told—about the sailor and the princess—that was clearly about me and him. Oh, how did he know I have such a love of rare and beautiful birds?”
Maddy blinked. “You do?”
“Well, I like birds. They’re pretty and sing nicely. I know! I shall wear my gown that makes me look like a bird.”
“What gown?”
“Don’t you remember?” huffed Rose as she leaped off the bed to search her wardrobe. “Mr. Wakely said so quite distinctly. That when I wore this I looked as pretty as a partridge sitting in a pear tree!”
The mention of Mr. Wakely quieted Maddy instantly. “Do you think he will come tonight?” she asked Rose. “I missed his visit this afternoon. Did you entertain him?”
“Hmmm? Who?”
“Mr. Wakely.”
“Oh. Well, yes, of course. Though he is a bit dull sometimes. Still, I told him a lovely tale about how you were visiting a gentleman friend who was deeply sad. A wasting disease, I believe, and that you were most broken up about the loss.”
“You told him what?” Maddy gasped.
“Well, I could hardly tell him that you were at the old bat’s engaging in selling things.” Her tone could hardly be more disgusted. “Besides, it never hurts to let a gentleman know that there are others interested in you.”
Maddy couldn’t help but laugh. “A gentleman with a wasting disease?”
“Yes, well, that just made the story sound better. Anyway, he said he wouldn’t be at Vauxhall tonight. Something about it being too frivolous for a man in his position.”
Too scandalous, probably, to be seen there with a woman of her reputation. Maddy sighed. “Did he say if he would call again tomorrow?”
“Hmmm. I don’t remember. Caro and her mother came by and we started talking about her older sister. She’s increasing! Barely two months married and already . . .”
Rose continued to chatter while a maid brought up their dinner trays and Maddy let her thoughts wander. Mr. Wakely would not be at Vauxhall tonight. Regrettable, but at least that left her free to pursue her mercenary goals. Any of the ton still in town would be at the gardens tonight. She could mix as she liked, quietly whispering about pirate jewelry. Yes, all in all, it was fortunate that the proper Mr. Wakely would not be there to see her engage in commerce.
And, of course, it would be best if Kit and Mr. Wakely did not meet. Business partner and suitor were best kept far, far apart. Especially in the rather enchanting pathways of Vauxhall.
Kit prowled the edges of Vauxhall, sliding easily through the shadows. He should have dressed more formally, he realized, and not in black trousers and an open pirate shirt. A black cape completed his outfit. It was a dash of whimsy on his part. If everyone thought him a pirate, let him play the role on this night, when half the revelers were in costume and the other half were nearly out of their costumes.
He slid past a working girl as she pulled her fare down toward the darker pathways. Tonight the ton celebrated the last of the Season until fall. Tonight the working girls would get more expensive pigeons to pluck. And tonight, he meant to prove to himself and to Maddy that he was a civilized man.
Except he wasn’t civilized. Maddy’s revelations about her uncle had brought the slave in him to the fore. His more relaxed attire and the wilder festivities had his darker side pushing the bounds of his mind, especially now that it was nighttime. And to cap off this disaster, he was set to meet with Michael and Lily again, the two people most responsible for his capture and enslavement.
He should have worn a civilized outfit for a civilized man. He should have put on a damned suit of armor to lock the savage inside. But he hadn’t, and now he was here, ducking past drunken revelers while searching for the one woman who made it all worthwhile.
Maddy. His angel. Where the bloody hell was she?
There! Dancing with some elderly fop. She wore another one of her good gowns, this one of pearlescent white. There were no ribbons or flowers or flounces on this one, thank God. Just simple white draped beautifully, and an equally plain mask that dangled uselessly from her arm.
She was laughing as she curtsied to the elderly gentleman. He was scarecrow thin and pasty faced to boot. But he smiled at her sweet laugh and winked in response. The man was at least sixty years old, and yet the sight of him winking at Maddy made Kit growl under his breath.
“You should not scowl like that,” a voice said behind his ear. “It scares people.”
Kit spun around, the movement half animal, half simple shock. There before him stood his older brother Lucas. Taller, paler, the smartest of his brothers and a man who looked equally stunned as he stared right back at Kit.
“So you really are alive then,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.
Kit had no voice at all. The best he could manage was a halfhearted shrug. Apparently it was all that was needed as his brother enveloped him in a heartfelt embrace. And Kit surprised himself by gripping his brother right back.
“Omph!” Lucas said as he finally drew back. “You’ve grown a bit stronger there, little brother. Nearly crushed my ribs. Have you a voice? Or was that stolen by yon miss as well?”
Kit glanced back to where Maddy continued in the patterns of the dance. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile warm. A new life had come into her today, and he was grateful to be the cause. But why in the devil’s name was she flirting
with that elderly cad?
“Kit! You’re doing it again.”
Kit came back to himself with a start and forced himself to look away from Maddy to his brother. “When . . .” His word came out as a savage growl and he had to stop and clear his throat. “When did you arrive? I waited for you at Donald’s but you never came.”
“Got to the family estate yesterday and heard the news. Swore I wouldn’t believe it until I saw your face.”
Kit arched a brow. “And now that you have?”
Lucas’s expression grew sober. “The scowl is new, little brother, and the face is harder.”
Kit nodded. “Harder. Yes. That’s a good word.” When he’d been a slave, he’d dreamed every moment of returning to the easy life he’d lost. And now that he was back, it all seemed so much harder than before.
“Shall I buy you a drink, brother? We can talk about travel and women. Foreign lands and women. Vast new lands and . . .”
“Women?”
“Exactly!” his brother crowed. It was a surprising sight, his bookish older brother attempting a lecherous waggle of his eyebrows.
“When did you lift your head out of a book?”
“Ah, well that is a tale and a half. Shall we—”
“No.”
Lucas’s eyebrows rose at Kit’s harsh word. And when Kit could not find the words to explain his savage mood, his brother turned back to look at Maddy, who was entering the last steps of the dance.
“What’s her name?”
“Angel.” The word was out before he could stop it.
“Interesting—”
“Maddy Wilson,” Kit corrected himself. “And I need to speak with her.”
“Ah,” Lucas said, a wealth of meaning in his tone. “The set is ending. Perhaps I should go ask for a dance.” He glanced over at Kit, his words obviously meant to bait.
Kit merely shook his head. “She will head back to her party now.” Then he pointed before his brother could ask. “She’s with Michael and Lily.”
“Really?”