“I’m terribly sorry,” he offered, even though it was in adequate; as condolences usually were.
She nodded and looked away, and something pierced his heart. He closed his own eyes and pushed the unpleasant thoughts away. Rodney forced himself to think about her scheme and then nodded his head. "It might work. With the end of the war there is no shortage of war widows. But how am I supposed to help with this. It sounds to me like you have everything already worked out."
She grasped his arm. "You're an earl now. And an old friend of my family. If you put it about that you know me and vouch for my identity, then no one will question it. Especially Clarence's relatives, or my father if they try to challenge the will."
To Rodney there seemed to be more than one problem with her plan. He voiced the most obvious of them. "People here know you as Marietta Sigona. And I assume you've been using the same name since you left Hamstoneshire."
She nodded. "Then how do you plan to keep them from recognizing you? Eventually you are bound to run across one of them."
In answer she reached up and began pulling pins out of her hair. After a dozen or so dropped to the table she pulled a black wig off her head and revealed the gold blonde hair he remembered from eight years before.
"The only two people still alive who have seen me in the last eight years without my makeup and wig on are my roommate, Leslie and our housekeeper. And they won’t tell anyone."
If she was right, then she might just get away with disappearing and turning up in some remote corner of England as her old self. "just how do you see this playing out, Miss Contrary?"
She smiled. "No one has called me that in years." Her smile dipped and she grew serious once more. "All you have to do is tell people you knew my husband, which you did. You were both sailors, so people will believe you. And you can tell them that after my husband's death, I and my niece moved away from the coast to some place up north."
"And Mary Cumpton is reborn," he said.
She smiled and nodded her head. It might work but he wasn't ready to lose her again so soon.
"Or . . . I could spend the next two days telling people about meeting an old friend of mine that I ran into here in London. And that I have offered her and her lovely niece an escort to their new home in upper York or some such place."
She looked startled for a second or two and then her face softened. "Or you could do that if you wanted to."
Rodney felt a moment’s relief and contentment flow over him. Then the reality of how this night had begun intruded. He didn't want her finding out about his friends' scheme to seduce her away from her current protector as revenge against his enemy.
"Mary, before we go any further with this there are some things you need to know about tonight, and why I was in that alleyway with my friends."
She eyed him suspiciously. "You weren't there to seduce me. At least that is what you told me earlier."
"No, I wasn't. But that is not what my friends believe," he said.
She smiled and patted his hand. "I told you Lord Campton has tried that before. I'm not so naïve as to fall for one of his tricks."
Rodney felt a little sick as he had been complicit in their plans. At least he had been when he had been drunk. "It wasn't for Samuel's sake that I was supposed to try and seduce you. They wanted me to entice you away from Seth Binsby."
She cocked her head to the side and regarded him for several seconds with narrowing eyes. "I am not, nor have I ever been that man's mistress."
"I know that. I think I knew it even before I met you and knew who you really are," he said.
"Thank you," she interjected.
"But it's not what Sam and the others believe. Nor what most of London believes either after last night. Not according to my friends."
Rodney saw her shudder and didn't blame her in the least. "Apparently, Binsby has been putting it about that you are his new mistress. And he has been threatening anyone who dares to come near you."
Fire leaped into her eyes and the red splotches on her cheeks blossomed into a full-fledged infernal. "That bastard." She was obviously struggling with her anger, and he was helpless to do anything to help her.
Suddenly her eyes cleared and she fixed them on him. "You wanted him enraged. Why?" she demanded.
He held up his hand. "Not me. But it is what Sam and the others wanted. Or hoped for."
Her eyebrows drew together. "But why?" She looked down and away from him, then suddenly her eyes popped open and she jerked back up and glared at him. “You were going to challenge him to a duel.”
A clock somewhere in the house began chiming and he pulled his watch from his pocket. Nine P.M. Rodney carefully put his watch back into his waist coat pocket, then nodded his head.
"I am sure that was their plan. But it was never mine. I despise Binsby and would do almost anything to see him brought to justice for his crimes. But I can’t challenge him to a duel. Not when my father knowingly allowed him into our house, and willingly agreed to his scheme,” he said. Although he had talked them out of the duel, he suspected it was still their ulterior motive for having him seduce Binsby’s mistress. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.
Instead he said, “Last night after more whiskey than I have ever drank, seducing you sounded like a great idea. But this morning, between the blinding headache and nausea, I realized it wasn't such a good plan after all."
"But you came to meet me anyway," she said.
Rodney grimaced. "I just wanted to meet the actress I saw last night." He grinned at her and shrugged his shoulders. "I was . . . enchanted by your performance. And I think there was a part of me that really did hope you were little Mary Contrary from my youth."
She smiled shyly back at him. "But your father was vulnerable due to his mental state," she argued.
"Maybe so. And like I said, Binsby should pay for what he did. But not with his life."
"Then how?" she asked. And uneasiness crept over him. He had seen that look in Mary's eyes before. It usually didn't bode well for him.
"Financially, ideally," he replied. "But I haven't figured out a way to do that yet. At least not legally anyway."
The corner of her mouth kicked up and his stomach did a familiar roil. "Do you consider gambling as a lawful way to take money away from someone?"
He eyed her suspiciously. "As long as it doesn't include cheating. Then yes."
Her smile blossomed, causing a spasm of dread to shiver down his spine. "Then I have the perfect way to get some of your money back from him."
Chapter 5
10:00 PM
Excitement pulsed through Mary's blood as she and Rodney neared the gambling hell she had decided they should try first. This would be her last such adventure. Once she and Abby were settled somewhere, she would have to give up these kinds of larks. At least until her niece was old enough to control her own fortune. Or Clarence's family and her father was no longer a threat to her.
Glancing over she watched Rodney surreptitiously as he stared out the open window of their hired hackney. He had ardently argued against them doing this. Getting his family's money back from Binsby was his problem and not hers. And that was before she had told him exactly how she planned on doing it. Then he had become obstinate and flatly refused to even consider her idea. At least until she had changed into her Mr. Arthur Johnson disguise and come back into the kitchen pretending to be an outraged lover of Signorina Sigona.
Mary wasn't sure if she was hurt or amused by how he had reacted to her supposed lover. The look on his face told her that he had fully believed that the boisterous and dandified gentleman was in fact her current lover. It stroked her artistic sensibilities while at the same time making her feel like a common whore. Or the courtesan that Seth had accused her of being.
Nevertheless, he had finally conceded to her plan. So here she was, dressed in a gentleman’s top hat, coat, waistcoat, and white pantaloons. And she was sporting a dark beard and mustache pasted to her face, and two pounds of stu
ffing and bindings underpinning her exquisitely tailored male garments. Topping off her ensemble was a matching dark, short haired wig and wire rim glasses to help hide her distinctive green eyes.
"The Devil's Cove," she said as they came into view of their first stop for the night. "Hopefully he'll be here and we can make an early night of it."
She watched him check his pocket watch and then unconsciously return it to his pantaloons’ pocket. It was something she had noticed he did a lot.
"This is a gambling hell?" he asked as he gazed out at the three story building they were pulling up to.
"It used to be a hotel a few years back," she said. "But the owner closed it down because it is too close to Seven Dials and the patrons were constantly being set upon by criminals. But rather than abandoning the property he simply turned it into a gambling hell and began welcoming those that once terrorized his old customers. It now draws patrons from all walks of life. Especially those looking to make a quick buck at the gaming tables."
Mary could tell he was having second thoughts about what they were going to do. But she wanted to hurt Seth Binsby now as much as she wanted to help Rodney get some of his family's money back.
Despite giving up the life she had created on her own, she didn’t like the idea that he was trying to ruin her reputation. Mary wanted her legacy to be that of one of the best actresses to step on the Theatre Royal’s stage, and not as Seth Binsby’s whore.
Which, if her plan failed and someone eventually recognized her as Marietta, then being labeled a whore as well as an actress could destroy the future she was hoping to give Abby.
The hackney pulled to a shuddering stop directly in front of the well-lit hell. Rodney's hand was flexing on the handle and she knew he was still struggling with going through with her plan.
"Mary, are you quite sure you want to do this?" he asked without turning around.
She held silent until he finally turned and frowned at her. "It's Mr. Johnson, Lord Hamstone. And yes, Kenny, I'm quite sure I want to go through with this. Not just for your sake now. That man has endangered the life I want to give my niece, and I owe him a bit of retribution as well."
He peered at her for several seconds and then nodded his head in resignation. "Fine. Then let's get on with it."
He opened the door and she quickly reached over and arrested his movements. "Milord, my name is Mr. Arthur Johnson. I'm a silk merchant who travels a lot because of my business. We met earlier this evening outside of Brooks and I am showing you all the best places to gamble."
Rodney glared back at her. "Mary, I remember the plan. I'm not a halfwit. I survived eight years in the Navy as an officer on a war ship. I think I can remember this insane plan of yours."
"Oh?" she demanded. "I'm beginning to have my doubts, milord. You can't even remember my name."
He blinked at her in confusion. She let out a huff and glared at him. "Arthur Johnson, milord. Mr. Arthur Johnson from Devonshire. If you forget while we're in there you could get both of us killed."
With that she pushed her way past his paralyzed body and jumped to the ground.
Every instinct in Rodney was screaming that this was an extremely bad idea. It was going to end in disaster. Probably with both of them dead or worse. But even as a child he had never been able to deny Mary anything. He was amazed he had actually survived his childhood.
He contemplated her as she strolled away from him. From all outward appearances there was nothing feminine about her or the way she carried herself. But he knew what was hidden underneath all the padding, wig, makeup, and male clothes. And he didn't honestly know if he could ignore the truth about who she was to get away with this.
Unfortunately, she wasn't going to give him time to think about it either. "Gov’nor, you stayin' or gettin' out?" the hackney driver barked down at him.
"Out, my good man," he replied and jumped down. "And I'm probably going to regret it," he muttered under his breath.
Rodney caught up with her at the front door just as she was about to go in. Instinctively he grabbed for her arm. But before his fingers could touch her, she spun around so fast he nearly collided with her.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed at him. The voice was low, gravelly, and cultured male.
A cold chill rocketed through him and he took a hasty step backward. "Nothing. Just. . ." He held up his hand in defeat because he had no bloody idea what in the hell he was doing.
"Come on then. I promised you a night of the best women and gambling this town has to offer. And this here is just the first of our stops tonight," she said in a loud staged voice. Several of the men close by grunted in agreement.
Rodney inhaled and let it out. "Shit," he whispered under his breath. He really was going to get them killed tonight if he didn't get his head out of his arse.
Dropping back a little, so he wouldn't be tempted to touch her again, he trailed behind her as they circled the lower floor. In the dim light he could just make out her eyes as she scanned the tables scattered around the rooms. Frustration was beginning to mar her face when they neared the front of the hell, and the wide stairs leading to the first floor.
She stopped and was staring up when a man rounded the corner and plowed into her.
"Watch where you're going," the man shouted. His voice was muffled and slightly slurred.
Mary shoved him away and he staggered a foot or two before righting himself and staggering toward her again. His intentions were clear to Rodney, and he reacted instinctively. Rodney coldcocked the man with a single blow. The man went down like a ton of bricks and Rodney had an infinitesimal moment of gloating before Mary spun him around.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" she demanded. Her face was flushed and her eyes were shooting fire from behind the lenses of her glasses.
"Hey, you had no right hitting Charlie like that." Blinding pain exploded from the side of his head. He careened into the newel pole and sank to his knees.
"Bloody hell," he heard Mary yell in her male voice. A flash of scarlet and blue rushed passed him and he heard the yellowing of a man's voice as flesh met flesh in a loud crack.
He turned around in time to see little Mary Contrary throwing a perfect right hook at a man's nose. The sound of her fist connecting echoed in the deafening silence that had descended over the gambling hell.
"You bastard," the man who had collided with her a moment ago yelled as he struggled to his feet and launched himself at Mary.
"No!" Rodney screamed as he too launched himself from the floor and crashed into the man inches from Mary's back. They went down in a melee of arms, legs, and sharp biting teeth. His opponent's teeth and not Rodney's. He was still too much of a gentleman to do that.
Thankfully the fight was quickly over. Rodney hadn't spent eight years in the Navy doing nothing. And close quarter fighting was a hallmark of naval tactics. And one he had excelled at. With the man knocked unconscious Rodney sprung to his feet prepared to defend Mary from the other drunken brute.
The sight that he beheld stunned and perplexed him. Little Mary was standing over the inert body of the man who had attacked him with two of the hell's doormen holding her between them. She was also trying to inflict additional damage to the unconscious man on the ground by kicking at him.
"Release heeee. . ." he began in a threatening voice when sanity returned with the thunderous report of a broadside. He had almost revealed her true gender by telling the men to release 'her'.
Two more doormen seized him and held him immobile as a wiry man dressed in a flamboyant suit strolled up to them. He eyed Rodney for a second and then turned to Mary.
"Arthur, you know my policy about fighting on the premises," the man said with a surprisingly cultured tone.
Mary shrugged her shoulders and nodded down at the bloodied and unconscious man at her feet. "He threw the first punch. I just reciprocated."
"Was that the way of it Merrick?" the man asked. Rodney realized
he was either the owner or the manager of the hell as everyone seemed to be deferring to him.
The doorman holding Mary's left arm shook his head. "Jim Granger had a bit too much to drink and staggered into this man here." He nodded at Rodney. "That bloke took exception and coldcocked him without warning."
The owner regarded Rodney for a moment and then turned back to Mary. "You and your friend are banned from the club for a month, Johnson. And if it happens again then it'll be a year. Is that understood?"
Mary grimaced dramatically as if the punishment was nearly intolerable. "Yea. It's clear Mr. Holton."
Holton nodded and then walked away. "Throw them out Merrick."
Fortunately, the procession was short as they were close to the front door. However, their exit was not decorous as their escort took their boss literal and physically pitched them out the front door and into the street.
With dirt in his mouth, Rodney sat up and looked around them. He and Mary were sitting in the middle of the street with people giving them a wide berth. Turning, he scrutinized Mary for injuries and found none. Then he noticed that she was close to tears and her body was shaking.
"Mary," he cried out, then looked around at the men staring at them, so he quickly amended, “Mother of God, are you alright?”
Her shoulders quivered beneath his fingers and then suddenly a snort gurgled up. "Kenny, you really aren't very good at this. Are you?"
Chapter 6
10:30 PM
"Will you please stop laughing at me?" Rodney demanded for the third time. "It is not funny." It really wasn’t as there were no hackneys near the hell, so they were walking through one of the seedier parts of East London.
He heard a distant bell tolling and pulled his pocket watch out and checked the time. The First Watch would have been half over. And he had just managed to get himself thrown out of a gambling hell for the first time in his life.
The Earl's Night of Being Wild (The Fallen Angels NOVELLA series Book 3) Page 4
