Not Quite a Lady; Not Quite a Knight

by Isabella Thorne

  “Nonsense,” Addie chided herself firmly. The square will be crowded with the Christmas crush. Surely she was not the only one out to do a bit of shopping.

  “Besides,” she told herself, “Whittondon’s sister will be with us. What harm can come to me with a chaperone and witnesses. If anything goes wrong, I will simply enlist the girl’s aid to escape and call a carriage as Uncle Elton suggested.”

  “I beg your pardon Miss?” a passing maid asked, balancing the tray from her uncle’s room in her arms.

  Addie flushed having been caught talking to no one. “Nothing, Mattie. Thank you. I was only thinking aloud.”

  The girl shrugged and went on her way. Addie descended the stairs thoughtfully, seeing that she was in fact just in time, for Lord Whittondon’s carriage had only just pulled up out front.

  It was starting to snow as she left the house. Maybe it wasn’t quite proper; she should have let Lord Whittondon come to the door. But she’d hesitated in having him disturb her uncle who was likely resting. Had Lord Whittondon come in, her uncle might have felt obligated to come down and speak to the man.

  If Lord Whittondon was surprised to see her upon the step, he did not show it upon his face as he offered her his arm to guard her against the ice on the walk. “I am eager for shopping!” she said, laughing, trying to peer past him to the carriage to where this unknown sister awaited them.

  He chuckled. “What woman does not like to shop?” he asked entirely too indulgently and for a moment she paused, irritated at the statement, as though shopping were the only thing of importance upon her mind.

  To her relief a woman with black hair sat in the carriage, her dress exquisite in both material and cut. She barely glanced up as Addie took the seat opposite as this nameless sister seemed not inclined to share her seat, sitting squarely in the middle in such a way as to not leave room for anyone else.

  Irritated that she was being forced very childishly to share the seat with Lord Whittondon, Addie gritted her teeth and sat down as near the window as she could. As no introduction seemed forthcoming, it was she who took matters into her own hands. “Miss Adelaide Waltham,” she said with a bright smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  The other woman’s eyes flicked in her direction, one delicate brow lifted as she eyed Addie’s costume though it could hardly be found wanting. Her uncle had taken great pains with her wardrobe upon her arrival and she knew she was well-dressed, every bit as much as this snobbish woman who seemed unlikely to act as friend or confidante on this particular trip.

  Unless Lord Whittondon told her something himself, Addie realized she would not be finding out anything personal about Whittondon at all. For a moment she almost called off the trip entirely.

  Phineas needs you to do this, she reminded herself firmly, and tried not to grimace as Lord Whittondon finished talking to the coachman and came inside the carriage, sitting heavily next to her, close enough for her to ascertain that he had onions at his breakfast.

  It was all she could do to not make an expression of distaste as the carriage lurched into motion and nearly sent her tumbling into him.

  Desperate to see this through, she looked back at the sister and smiled again. Although the woman seemed unfriendly perhaps she was merely shy. She was surely a year or two younger than Addie herself. “Where shall we shop first?” Addie asked with a smile. “I must find something for my Uncle and I am at a complete loss as to what to get him. Perhaps you have some idea?”

  It was awkward in the extreme to not even know the other woman’s name, and it would seem strange to ask, wouldn’t it? She should have been introduced. She couldn’t quite decide and gave a sidelong glance at Whittondon to see that his attention was somewhere outside the carriage. She followed his gaze and was surprised to see that they were passing through a very poor part of town; one she had not seen before.

  “Where is this?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “Are we taking a different route? I had expected to be visiting Mayfair today.”

  The woman across from her made a rather unladylike sound, as Whittondon leaned back in the seat and put his arm around her in a very familiar manner.

  “I should think you would be more comfortable someplace more humble. Cheapside maybe. Or the docks? A tart such as yourself could earn a pretty penny there spending an afternoon upon her back. But you know about that already. Don’t you, Addie.”

  Addie felt the blood drain from her face. Her hands gripped her reticule hard, and for a moment she thought she might faint. “I fear that I do not…do not understand what you are meaning to say. I would not know anything about…”

  “Did you truly think I would not remember you? It was charming, really, the way you managed the invitation last night. I had not thought it so easy to catch you again. And then to have you readily join us today? Really, I am most charmed. One might be inclined to thing you enjoyed your time with us.”

  SLAP

  Addie’s hand stung as she stared at the bright handprint up on his cheek. “How dare you! In front of your sister no less!”

  The woman was laughing bitterly. “His sister? Is that what he told you?”

  Addie realized how great a danger she was in. How could she have been so stupid to trust that he would truly bring his sister…if the wretch even had one.

  The carriage came to a halt as someone tried to maneuver a cart on the narrow street, taking up most of the available space with an oversized load. With her heart in her throat, Addie lunged for the door, and was flung back, hard against the seat. In that instant, Whittondon was upon her, an arm pressed against her throat. “I think you do not understand. I am the one who makes the decisions here. I have no idea what silly game you are playing, but I can assure you that whatever you have planned now, will not only destroy you, but that doddering uncle of yours as well. I am shall give you two choices, you will either find a way to transfer some very large sum of you dowry into my hands or I will make sure the rest of the Ton is cognizant of your previous form of employment.”

  “I cannot. How might I possibly get my hands on my uncle’s money? The money coming to me will only be released upon my marriage.”

  “That can be arranged,” he said leering at her.

  “My uncle would never allow it.”

  “But I’m sure Lord Livingsten doesn’t know what sort of woman you are.”

  “I’m not,” Addie interrupted.

  “I can only imagine what the shock of finding out your sordid past would do to your feeble uncle. It would be a miracle if he lives through the shame. All to the better.”

  Addie’s fists clenched in her lap. “You monster.”

  Whittondon laughed darkly. “If you do not wish to find yourself married to me you will find a way to get the money.”

  “My uncle only gives me a small amount for an allowance. Even today there is scarce enough here to be worth your time.” With that she flung her reticule at his feet. “You may as well take it.” She spat out the words fiercely. “I have no proof with which to accuse you that does not already damn me.”

  He leaned in, one hand coming up to caress Addie’s cheek as the carriage started forward again. “I always thought it a shame that I sold you. I might have saved you for my own private…pleasures.” He shot a look at the girl who crossed her arms, and looked away.

  Addie jerked away. “I have given you as you asked. I don’t imagine you will take me home, but I do expect you will let me out, that I might make my own way back.”

  He bent and hefted the purse. “It does not seem to be very much. Perhaps you would rather work off the balance,” he suggested with a leer.

  “Let me go and I will see that you have whatever money you desire!” she spat the words.

  He gave an exaggerated sigh. “What choice do I have? My needs are expensive. I trust you will do as I say. By…Christmas Eve then?” He named a sum that made Addie blanch. “Else I shall tell all who you are, and then marry you myself. When who else
will have you?”

  “You shall have your money. I will find a way. I give you my word.”

  He stared at her. “I honestly think you mean that. How quaint!” He rapped on the roof of the carriage and the vehicle came to a stop outside a row of cheap housing. “I expect I will,” he said as he reached over to unlatch the door. “You know what will happen if you fail.”

  She stared at the tawdry street. He seriously meant to leave her here. Addie swallowed hard and slipped from the carriage out onto the street thinking that even this sordid street was better than staying another moment in his company. Her legs nearly buckled beneath her.

  Addie stared as the carriage moved on without her.

  She was no longer terrified. She was furious.

  6

  Phineas noticed Addie walking, but this was no place for her. Something was deeply wrong. Addie lurched down the street, tired and limping. Her dress was streaked with mud, her hair had fallen loose from her winter bonnet and straggled about her face.

  Phineas swiftly drew his horse to a halt and was off the animal running toward her before he’d even thought through the action. His jealousy last night forgotten. He had only seen her in trouble and knew he must aid her.

  Addie made no protest as he swept her into his arms. That alone should have told him the depth of her distress. Addie had been conscious of appearances since she’d met her uncle. Back when she worked at the Bell and Whistle such things did not seem to matter so much, but now she shied away from any touch that could be seen as improper.

  Until now.

  Addie threw herself into Phineas arms and sobbed on his shoulder. He held her close, attempting to comfort her and then realized how improper this would appear.

  Anyone could see. Any number of people had to already have seen her distress, though none (if they had) had cared enough to stop, to see her safely home. Phineas realized then just how far she was from Lord Livingsten’s townhouse, and could not imagine where she’d come from that she would be walking down this street at this moment. He himself had only been here by chance himself, hoping to meet a man with a horse for sale.

  “Miss Waltham…Addie, tell me what has happened.”

  She stepped back, breaking their embrace as though his words had shattered something within her. Her eyes were haunted. She sniffed and he offered her his handkerchief.

  She used it to wipe her tears and gently blow her nose. She looked at him over the linen. “Please, don’t hate me…”

  7

  Addie told Phineas everything. She had not wanted to, but it seemed that once she started speaking, there was no end to the words that poured from her mouth. Phineas had already known about her past: that she had been kidnapped and sold.

  He hadn’t known about Whittendon’s involvement.

  He listened now, and Addie noted the way the muscles bunched in his neck, the way his fists clenched and the vein throbbed in his forehead. Phineas would kill Whittendon if he stood there before them, of this she had no doubt. Something within her quailed at the violence that her words could inspire. The other part of her welcomed it. Some part of her wanted Whittondon dead, because she did not know what to do. She already knew that paying him would invite a lifetime of fear from his threats, but what choice did she have?

  When Phineas spoke, his voice seemed to come from a long way away. Addie could see the struggle upon his face. Had they not been standing on a street corner in the cold, with snowflakes swirling down around them, the conversation might have gone differently. She might have snuggled back into his protective arms and let him keep her safe.

  But as it was there was no space for emotion as the life of the city ran past, horses and pedestrians, children and dogs. There was an ebb and flow around them, which had gone unnoticed until this moment. She became aware of it now and she saw the comprehension dawn in his eyes as well.

  “We must get you home.”

  “And then?” she asked, because she needed to know.

  “The authorities. What you wished to do was…noble.” He seemed to be having trouble speaking, his voice hoarse and raspy. “But you should not have. This is no matter for a woman.”

  “A woman?” she repeated.

  “You put yourself in danger.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “So you could kill him?” she asked, feeling the bitterness flow through her, because this was not the present she had wanted to give him. “Call him out for a duel? Put yourself in danger? You wouldn’t!”

  Phineas eyes narrowed. “I would. If necessary.”

  There seemed to be little to say after that. Maybe he realized that too, for he flagged down a cab and placed her inside the coach, giving the driver strict instructions to see her home to her uncle, The Lord Livingsten.

  “What about you?” she asked as he shut the door.

  “I will join you there within the hour.”

  “Phineas, please. Do not challenge him.”

  “Do you care for the scoundrel?” He asked.

  “No. Of course not. I only worry…for you.”

  “I shall be fine. I will see you in one hour.”

  Addie nodded. In the short time they’d been together she’d found out one very important thing about Phineas Ainsworth – he was a man of his word.

  ~.~

  Phineas was true to his word. He showed up, with a giant of a man in tow named McCreary. Broad shouldered, with a thick Scottish accent it took some time to make the man understand what they were attempting, and worse, to figure out what he meant to say in return. Eventually, with help from Phineas the matter was sorted out in Elton’s study, over snifters of brandy for the men, while Addie hovered over a cup of tea that did nothing to warm her.

  The constable had not wanted to speak of such matters with a ‘lady present.’

  “I will have you know I am no lady. I have only recently acquired my social position, and since this concerns my life, I expect to stay,” Addie finally said, trying to ignore the way Phineas snickered at her choice of words. She thought about swatting at him but did not want to spill her tea.

  “Yer man dinna find anyting?” the constable asked Uncle Elton, his heavy brows drawn down low over his forehead.

  “’Tis only a day since I hired an investigator. Such things take time,” Lord Livingsten said, his tone miserable.

  Addie’s heart hurt. She was punishing everyone around her with her past and no longer knew how to protect those she loved.

  “There is no time,” she said softly. “We have only until Christmas Eve and that is but a few days away.”

  “Without proof he canna be accused,” the constable said, clearly not happy to be the one to impart the bad news. He had twice made clear to Phineas that duels or any act of revenge would not be advisable from a legal standpoint. As such thing were also technically illegal.

  The four of them sat grouped around the fire, Addie seated on an ottoman at her uncle’s side. She glanced at him, carefully wrapped in a warm blanket against the chill. She thought of all the ways that he had gone out of his way for her, of the grand home he had given her for the past several weeks. Of how much she had come to love him.

  “What if…what if there was someone to accuse him publicly. Someone who saw him there.”

  Her question fell into the silence and exploded there. The reaction was instantaneous.

  “No. Addie you must not…”

  “My dear, you cannot.”

  Followed by a very authoritative, “Who?” from McCreary.

  The answer to that question was clearly understood by all present except for the constable.

  Addie sighed and answered McCreary. “Me.”

  8

  It would be her Christmas present to London…no to England itself, she thought. Maybe it would not be the gift that she’d wanted to give to Phineas but it would suffice all the same. If Lord Whittendon were taken into custody, would he no
t be carried off to Newgate to pay for his crimes? Would he not then feel pressured to tell all he knew for the sake of a lesser sentence?

  Phineas argued that there was no way to be sure.

  “A man such as Whittendon has means enough to buy his way out of prison,” he said with a somewhat chagrined and apologetic look at the constable. McCreary sighed a little.

  “’Tis noo far oof,” he said in his thick accent.

  “But he would be locked away,” Lord Livingsten argued. “For what he is accused of even all the pounds in London would not set him free. Titled or no. They might make his sentence more palatable, since he would be allowed to buy amenities with his name. But they will not stretch his neck unless he has...”

  He faltered there, but it Addie heard the words in her mind all the same, and knew that Phineas did too from the haunted look in his eyes. Unless he has killed someone…Phineas’ sister.

  This was not the Christmas present that Addie had wanted to give Phineas. She had meant to do something for Christmas that would express her love for him. Now she had stripped from him whatever vestiges of hope he held. Had she not interfered, perhaps he could have pretended that his sister was somewhere safe. Warm. Even happy.

  “So what do we do?” Addie asked finally when it seemed that no one had anything further to say.

  The men looked at each other, suddenly awkward.

  It was up to her.

  Addie felt her Uncle’s hand in her own. When she looked up she saw Phineas’ face, and realized what this would do to him. After today she would be ruined. There was no way anyone would marry her despite her dowry.

  Not even Phineas. He could not.

  A gift. For all of England, she told herself.

  Then realized she had found a gift for Phineas after all.

  She would give him justice, for his sister.

  Addie took a deep breath. “Do it,” she said.