A hint of a smile played across Hook’s lips. “Swooning? I can hardly imagine anyone mistaking you for a swooning anything, Miss Darling.”
“Yes, well … Mrs. Medcalf is quite certain that you and I are soon to be engaged,” Wendy reluctantly admitted. “I would vastly prefer it if you would take steps to correct that misapprehension.”
“Is she?” Hook said, and his eyes danced with a cruel sort of humor. “I must admit I hadn’t considered the likelihood, but it’s as good a cover story as any. And better than most. As an actual member of the Nineteenth Light Dragoons, you should expect to hide your true purpose from the world, should you not?”
“Be that as it may—”
“No. It is best that you continue to act in that capacity.” Hook stood and nodded to himself, the matter clearly settled. “You shall henceforth pretend to be my swooning romantic interest. I dare say it will be an excellent test of your wits, and it gives me a perfectly good excuse to keep you here as long as needed.”
“As long as needed! But—”
“I am still your superior officer, Miss Darling. Unless, of course, you no longer wish to be an actual member of the Nineteenth Light Dragoons?”
Wendy merely glared at him in silence.
“As to briefing you regarding our current initiatives,” he continued, “if my hypothesis is correct—if Pan is indeed seeking you out—then the less you know of our plans, the better. All you need to know is that I want as much information as you can learn. Specifically, I would be very interested to discover the location of Pan’s island. I’m tired of defending our shores, Miss Darling. I would like very much to take the battle to our enemy. And the sooner, the better.
“I will send a few men to stay with you here. Not only for your protection but for the house. As you say, this is my family’s estate. No one will question my decision to see to the safety of my bride to be.”
Wendy blushed furiously but refused to rise to the bait. “Fine,” she said. “Then send me the Fourteenth Platoon. I am their diviner, and they should not be without me. I shall be safe here in their care.”
“This is not a negotiation, Miss Darling,” Hook replied evenly. “The Fourteenth has its own post to attend to. I will, instead, be sending my own men from London. If you wish to be reunited with the Fourteenth Platoon in Dover, then find me the location of that island. Once I know where it is, I shall be far too busy hunting the everlost to maintain a fiancée in Hertfordshire.”
A challenge, Wendy thought. Ha! Two can play at that game! On your guard, then, Captain. Maintaining a fiancée in Hertfordshire might be more trouble than you’d expect!
But, of course, Wendy kept that thought to herself. Instead, she took a bold pace toward him. Two paces. Three. Did he honestly believe he could intimidate her? Make her uncomfortable by forcing her to act as his fiancée? She held up her hand, clearly inviting him to take it.
“Until we meet again then, darling,” she said.
He eyed her warily for a long moment, but then his mouth twisted into a cold, calculated smile. Instead of taking her hand in his own, he brought his steel hook up to rest it beneath her delicately curled fingers, its tip—sharp and deadly—just inches from her chin.
“Oh, I haven’t left yet, Miss Darling.” He spoke quietly, his voice deep and rasping. “I’m afraid you won’t be rid of me that easily.”
His eyes locked onto hers, and he pulled her hand gently to his lips. The leopard once again, toying with its catch. But Wendy only held his gaze, saying nothing.
We will find out soon enough, she thought to herself, just who is toying with whom.
ook spent three days at the Hertfordshire estate, and for Wendy, every one of them felt like an eternity.
He insisted that she join him on long rides through the countryside each morning. (With Colin tagging along as chaperone, staring sullen daggers at Hook when he wasn’t looking.) Every afternoon he propped his boots up on the table in the library and leered at her as she tried to read. During dinner he held her hand captive throughout the meal, his eyes never leaving hers as he skewered bits of meat with his steel hook.
And all the while she had to play the part of the swooning girl, blushing at his ardent attentions, knowing they were meant to be intimidating.
But Wendy wasn’t intimidated. She was just biding her time. If Hook insisted on this ruse, she would use it to her advantage. Unfortunately, she couldn’t put her plan into motion until he left, and that didn’t happen until the two lieutenants had finally arrived from London. On his way out the door, he issued them strict orders not to leave Wendy unattended—which was just going to make everything that much more difficult.
But of course, not impossible.
“Good morning, Mrs. Medcalf!”
Wendy found the cook just where she had expected: in the kitchen, preparing the morning’s biscuits, even as the first pink light of dawn was beginning to grace the sky.
“Why, good morning, Miss Darling! You’re up early, I dare say. Even for you! Someone has a reason to be happy, I’d wager?”
Mrs. Medcalf loved fishing for information almost as much as she loved lemon cake. It was a trait Wendy’s new plan relied upon heavily.
“A small reason, Mrs. Medcalf,” Wendy replied, careful to look hesitant. “Nothing momentous yet. Not a promise … but a hope, at least.”
“Are you certain there hasn’t been a promise?” Mrs. Medcalf asked wistfully. “I thought surely …”
“I’m afraid I can’t be certain of anything!” Wendy wrung her hands together, then hesitated. Had that been too much? No, watching Mrs. Medcalf’s expression, she decided it was perfect. “I have so little experience with this sort of thing …”
She allowed her voice to trail off and then sighed. Unless she missed her guess, Mrs. Medcalf would not need much prompting.
“Oh, my dear! Of course you don’t! Tell me everything! We’ll figure it out together.” The woman brushed her hands against her apron and turned to Wendy, her eyes wide, cheeks flushed, all thoughts of biscuits apparently forgotten.
“Well … if you think so …”
“I absolutely insist! What did he say?” She leaned so far forward in her eagerness that Wendy feared the woman might topple right over.
“Mrs. Medcalf, he was the perfect gentleman, of course. But he did profess a … well, a certain romantic fondness for my company. I’m embarrassed to say more—I’m sure you understand—but you were right about that.”
“Of course I was, dear! Oh, how exciting!” Mrs. Medcalf clutched her hands together beneath her ample bosom and inhaled sharply.
“There was no talk of a wedding, though.” Wendy did her best to look worried. “No specific … question … but …”
Mrs. Medcalf grabbed both of Wendy’s hands in her own. “Yes? But what, dear? But what!”
“Well, that’s just it! I don’t know! I thought he would … or at least, I thought he might … but all he said was that he couldn’t say more—something about military secrets!”
“Military secrets!”
Wendy paused, giving Mrs. Medcalf sufficient time to gasp and release Wendy’s grip, raising her hands to her mouth instead.
“That’s what he said,” Wendy affirmed. “And then he said that soon he might be too busy to maintain a fiancée in Hertfordshire.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Medcalf began to bounce up and down, her eyes opening wider and wider until she burst forth with an actual squeal of excitement and grasped Wendy’s hands again. “Oh, my dear! That’s why he hasn’t asked! Oh, it all makes sense now! He’s afraid you’ll be lonely if he has to go off to sea right away. Always so thoughtful. He’s a true gentleman, he is!”
“Yes. Yes, that’s what I thought, too,” Wendy agreed. “So, you see, there’s nothing official. A hope, as I said. But not a promise.”
“Oh, my goodness! No, dear, that’s as good as a promise from our Captain Hook! There’s no doubt about it now! I’m quite sure!”
; “Do you think so? Really?” Wendy didn’t have to act hopeful. The feeling was entirely genuine. This was exactly how she had hoped this conversation would go.
“It’s just a matter of time!” Mrs. Medcalf exclaimed.
“Are you absolutely certain? Because if you’re absolutely certain, then I really should begin to appear in charitable circles, don’t you think? To put forth the best possible image. To uphold his reputation in the community, you understand. So that people will approve of the match?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!” Mrs. Medcalf was already nodding emphatically. “That’s very good thinking. Very good. We must arrange for you to meet—”
But Wendy placed a gentle hand on the woman’s arm, stopping her before she could suggest anything in particular. Wendy had her own introductions in mind.
“I have always had such a tender place in my heart for orphans, Mrs. Medcalf,” Wendy suggested. “Is there an orphanage, perhaps, in Hertfordshire?”
And, of course, there was.
As it happened, there were several almshouses in St. Albans, and Wendy toured four of them that very afternoon along with her retinue of two lieutenants, one coachman (a position she attributed to Colin, which pleased him immensely), and Poppy, whom she introduced as a companion dog, rather than a coach dog. As though that explained why the animal should be allowed inside the buildings.
At their fifth stop, however, Wendy was informed that she could not tour the premises. A fine lady such as herself, they said, should not have to witness the sad conditions in which these particular orphans lived. The poorest almshouse in all of St. Albans barely managed to keep a roof over their heads, with nothing left over for extravagances like food or warm blankets.
Wendy assured them that she understood completely, and if she could perhaps see a list of what they most desperately needed …
So back they went to the center of town, where the wealthy shopped for mutton and pastries and fine haberdashery, and where Wendy knew she could find just what she was looking for.
“He brought it on himself, Poppy,” Wendy said. They rode together in the carriage, with the lieutenants following along behind on horseback. “I can’t let him keep me from my platoon. You understand, don’t you? He’s never going to take me on for The Dragon. The least he can do is return me to my post, where I have some chance of moving up in the world.”
Poppy licked Wendy’s hand in sympathy.
“I know it’s a bit underhanded, but he’s the one who said I could leave if I made it worth his while.”
Poppy rested her head on Wendy’s lap and closed her eyes. That wasn’t exactly how Poppy remembered the conversation, but she wasn’t one to quibble.
“I have no idea how long it will be before Pan comes back. Or even if he’s going to come back! Finding that island is an unfair condition to place on my freedom, don’t you think?”
Poppy snored a little, and Wendy jogged her knee to wake the dog up.
“Don’t you think?” she asked again.
Poppy barked obediently.
“Yes, I quite agree. So if I’m forced to make my stay in Hertfordshire inconvenient for him, well then it’s his own fault. He should have just let me go back to Dover in the first place.”
Poppy was perfectly happy for Wendy to go wherever she liked, especially if she could ride along in the carriage. She was a bit irked at Hook anyway for failing to understand that he was no longer in charge. He had insisted on calling her ‘Athena’ for the entire three days of his stay, and frankly, it had rankled.
“Yes, that’s right. Three dozen blankets,” Wendy said. “The warmest you have. Preferably in cheerful colors.”
The shop was located in the center of the wealthiest section of St. Albans, and the proprietor flicked his tongue across his lips as he mentally tallied the profit on his thirty-six most expensive blankets. Then he brushed his hands together and watched Wendy closely as he asked the crucial question. “And how does the lady wish to pay?”
“I presume the credit of the Hook Estate will be acceptable?”
The man’s eyes widened. Wendy’s dress was not the finery of a wealthy woman. It was far too practical. But then again, there were the two lieutenants standing behind her in full dress uniform. (It would hardly have been appropriate for Hook’s “romantic interest” to be escorted about town by two civilian men of no relation to her.) The lieutenants did nothing to interfere, and Wendy had arrived in the estate’s coach …
“Of course! Of course!” He bowed deeply. “Whatever the lady needs!”
“And as many of the items on this list as you have, please.” When the merchant’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, she added, “It’s for the orphans.”
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Such a fine family, the Hooks! True pillars of the community! It is a pleasure to assist you, my lady. A genuine pleasure!”
Behind Wendy’s back, the lieutenants shared a look that would have reminded her very much of John and Michael had she seen it, and it said this: “Do you think we should be trying to stop her?”
But as each man had intended to ask the other, neither received an answer. They merely watched as the bill continued to grow, dutifully following their orders—which, after all, had only been to protect her. Nothing had been said about preventing her from spending Hook’s money.
Still, it felt as though they should be doing something, which is why they overreacted when the French gentleman suddenly opened the door and stepped in off the street.
“Bonjour,” the man said.
Leaping to Wendy’s rescue, the lieutenants charged the man together, one holding a sword to his chest while the other demanded answers.
“Who are you? What is your business here? Declare yourself!”
He was an older man, though certainly not elderly, Wendy decided. His silver hair was receding, but he was still surprisingly fit. His dark brown eyes showed hints of both intelligence and humor in equal measure, and he never lost his cheerful demeanor as he addressed the soldiers who had confronted him.
“Messieurs, I am Antoine Dumas. I do not represent the first wave of a British invasion, I assure you. I am here to buy a hat.”
Wendy was appalled. It was one thing for the lieutenants to follow her around in case the everlost showed up. It was another thing altogether for them to accost innocent hat buyers.
“Boys!” she said sharply. “That’s quite enough.”
The lieutenants looked around at her, clearly startled. She was younger than they, but she had used such a firm, maternal tone that each had been reminded for a moment of his own mother. The one with the sword looked down at it in his hand and then back at Wendy as though to say, “What? No. Of course I wasn’t going to hit Antoine with it. I was just holding it, like this. See?”
He put the sword away but continued to glare at Antoine. This look said, “Now you’ve done it. You’ve gotten us all in trouble!”
“Monsieur Dumas,” Wendy said. “I apologize for my lieutenants. I hope they have not done you any harm.”
“No, mademoiselle. Thank you. But the apology is entirely unnecessary. We live in troubled times, and there is no love lost between our two lands. I understand the precaution. There was a time I would have done the same.”
“Oh? Were you in the military?” Wendy decided that he did, in fact, have a military bearing about him, tempered by time and experience.
“I was,” he acknowledged. “But that was years ago. Now, life is quiet. I raise goats. I read books. Occasionally, I buy a hat. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Miss …?”
Books! she thought. Wendy had planned on doing three things with her time in Hertfordshire. The bit about helping orphans was going very well indeed. Her marksmanship training, however, had been foundering, and she had turned up nothing new about the everlost. If this man had both military training and a library …
“Wendy Darling, Monsieur Dumas! I must say, it is a great pleasure to meet you! A great pleasure indeed!”
&nbs
p; isiting Monsieur Dumas turned out to be much more difficult than Wendy had expected.
For one thing, he was French, so the good people of Hertfordshire treated him with tremendous suspicion just for standing on English soil rather than staying on his own side of the Straits where he belonged. As long as Wendy was pretending to be Captain Hook’s fiancée, she could not be seen socializing with the wrong sort of crowd. It was one thing to spend Hook’s money, of which he seemed to have plenty. It was another thing altogether to stain his honor.
Not that speaking to Monsieur Dumas should have placed any sort of stain upon either her own name or Hook’s, in Wendy’s opinion. He seemed like a kind man, and refusing to speak to him struck her as a sign of very poor manners. But she understood that some people will gossip about things they ought not to worry over at all, that this is just “how things are,” and that the best thing to do about it is simply to avoid the situation altogether.
Which can usually be managed by sneaking around and doing what you wanted to do in the first place, just with less attention. (A process with which she was perfectly familiar, thanks to several years of sneaking out of the almshouse for her training with Olaudah Equiano.)
This cloak-and-dagger solution to her first problem, however, only raised a second one. The Hook Estate was no mere almshouse, and she had two lieutenants following her everywhere she went. Even worse, thanks to her shopping spree, they had now been commanded in no uncertain terms (via orders sent from London and written in Hook’s own hand) not to allow her to leave the premises.
The lieutenants could only assume this meant they were to follow her everywhere she went even within the estate itself, so they greeted her at her bedroom door every morning and then followed her to the kitchen and to the library and to the gardens and so on, all day long. Apparently, Captain Hook had not appreciated the bill for the orphan’s supplies.
The Wendy Page 11
