by Joan Smith
We came to a turning in the road, and I had to stop to get my bearings. Maitland stopped as well, waiting. I turned, left, and his hand fell on my arm. “You’re headed to Belgrave Square. Elm Street is this way,” he said.
“Thank you, and now that I know the way, it won’t be necessary for you to accompany me.”
“Consider me a shadow.”
I turned and headed toward Elm Street. I held my head high, which gave me no view at all of the road or of the large rock in my path. I was walking hard and fast and struck it with enough force to give me a very real fear that I had broken my toe. I couldn’t suppress one little yelp of pain. I took another step, however, and winced. By then it was clear that I wasn’t going to walk home.
Maitland raised his arm to have the carriage draw up, and he held the door. I was so frustrated I wanted to kick him—or the carriage—but my throbbing toe warned me against such a course. I got in and sat stiff as a ramrod while Maitland took a seat beside me, and the carriage rambled into motion. My ignominious situation improved his humor. His voice was hardly more than furious when he asked, “Just what in God’s name did you think you were doing?”
“I was going home after the worst evening—and day!—of my life.”
His reply had the force of a whip lashing the air. “Whose fault is that? You wouldn’t have been attacked by that old pervert if you hadn’t climbed into a carriage alone with him. There may be some excuse for Esther’s behaving like a lightskirt—she at least is young and inexperienced. You’re plenty old enough to know better. Your day, and mine, would have been less hideous if you’d told me the truth about the money.”
Just when I thought I hadn’t an ounce of fight left in me, I was suddenly alive again and burning as brightly as a gas lamp. “Thank you for calling me a liar—and a thief! I know money holds a paramount position in your scale of values, but it matters less to me. I am sorry you were unable to find your money. No doubt it’s a grievance to you that you aren’t able to pocket the five thousand belonging to Mr. Pelty, but you are mistaken, as you must surely know by now, to think I have it. We at Elm Street were very much amused by your little comedy—your game of cards to see the color of our blunt, and your assuring us the bills were unmarked so we would feel free to spend them. Unfortunately for you, we had only the one cut bill. Perhaps you could take the scissors to some of your other friends’ money and have the law down on them instead.” My rant done, I turned my head aside and looked out the window at the darkness.
He lunged forward, grabbed my chin, and forcibly turned my head back to face him. “What was I to think? You had the banknote!”
I wrenched his hand away and threw it back at him. “Don’t touch me again. You thought I had the lot long before that, or you wouldn’t have put us to the test! How dare you come into our home like a friend and treat us so shabbily!”
“You just accused me of trying to bilk Pelty!”
“I’d accuse you of murdering Graham if I could! I wouldn’t put it a bit past you.”
“Belle, I wasn’t trying to con you. I admit I first struck up an acquaintance with that in mind, but I had dismissed you as the culprit days ago. I did it only to set Pelty’s mind at rest. He’s been nattering at me that ‘Miss Haley has to know something,’ and I did it to prove to him you were innocent. You could have knocked me over with a breath when I looked at that banknote and saw the cut. You gave Eliot Sutton that letter authorizing him to get the carriage. It was possible the money was there.”
“Eliot hasn’t even gotten it yet!”
“His groom could have. I tell you that pound came from the money that disappeared. Where did you get it?”
“Are you sure you’d believe the word of a liar, Mr. Maitland?”
“I’m not responsible for what I might have said to Roy after you gave me that banknote. I felt betrayed. He told me you tried to burn the bill—does that sound like innocence to you?”
“He’s lucky it wasn’t him I chucked into the grate. I only did it in a fit of temper.”
“A fit of temper isn’t going to get us very far,” he said impatiently.
“At least it’ll get me home. I’m sorry I ever came up to London. But maybe it did me some good after all. I wasn’t completely convinced there was a devil; now I know that London’s full of them.”
“You’ve managed to entangle your halo in more than one set of horns. What was Thomson up to in the carriage that you felt required to bolt?”
“Just what you think.”
“You had some notion how he would behave in private. His hands were all over you at the play. Why did you drive home with him?”
“Because I couldn’t leave Mama or Esther alone with those jackanapes! I couldn’t be with both of them. Are you suggesting I wanted ...” My voice broke in indignation, and I felt tears scald my eyes. I blinked them away, only to hear a miserable hiccuping sound erupt from my throat. It was the aftermath of my long ordeal, for I am not a watering pot.
Maitland used it as an excuse to grab my hands. “Are you sure you’re all right? I’ll go back and knock that bleater’s teeth down his throat.”
“I’m fine. Pass that wine, will you, please? I think I’m getting the hiccups,” I said, hoping to pass it off in that manner. He handed me the bottle and I took a short sip.
“You could have accepted my escort. I only went to the concert to see you, to try to find a chance to talk to you. It’s lucky I followed Thomson’s carriage—I thought I might catch you at your door.’’
“That’s not a very flattering remark on your lady friend’s company. If lady is the correct term for a woman who appears in public half-dressed.”
“I was with my sister,” he said, his voice thinning.
“Pardon me. In that case, I admired her skirt enormously.”
“This isn’t Bath. Fashion is more daring in London. We may seem fast to you, but I’ve never caused you to leave the carriage, at least.’’
“I’ve already left it once tonight, and I’d leave it this minute if my toe weren’t aching like a bad tooth.”
We continued a moment in silence. As we drove east on Piccadilly he took the wine and set it aside. The gas lamps in this quarter made it easier to see in the carriage. I noticed he had crossed his arms and leaned back at his ease to enjoy the squabble. “Did you get my letter?”
“Yes.”
“Well, now that you’ve had a chance to calm down, will you do it?”
“Do what?”
“What I asked.”
“I didn’t say I read the letter. I threw it in the grate.”
His lips moved unsteadily. “I must be wary of standing too close to that grate. I see it serves as your dustbin for unwanted objects.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll never be anywhere near it, unless your aunt buys the house. Not that I believe for a minute you even have an aunt.”
“I have five.”
“That doesn’t make you a member of the human race.”
“You lack certain human qualities yourself, Belle. If you were a normal woman, you’d be curious to know what was in that letter.”
I was willing to listen but refused to ask. After another moment’s silence he gave in and told me. “You’ve convinced me you don’t have the money. I believe you. I just want you to tell me one thing. Where did you get that banknote?”
“Why should I bring Officer Roy down on the head of a friend?”
“Eliot?”
“Certainly not.”
“Yootha?”
“No.”
“It can’t be Two Legs. You’d have the law on him fast enough.”
“I wish I could say it was him, but it wasn’t.”
“And it wasn’t Duke.... Stone!” he exclaimed triumphantly .
“Yes, it was Stone. I meant to quiz him tonight and see if I could learn anything, but I was too busy.”
“I noticed at the play. You must have been even busier in the carriage. And the park is hardly safe at nig
ht, either.”
“Very true. I met you there, didn’t I?”
He ventured a rallying smile. “Aren’t you glad you did? I don’t expect thanks for rescuing you, but I hardly expected verbal abuse after my flowery letter of apology, which, of course, you didn’t bother to read. Since you didn’t read it, I shall apologize in person now. Belle, I’m damnably sorry. If I’d had the least notion how things would turn out, I wouldn’t have gotten that warrant. It was the unconsidered act of a moment’s temper, when I thought you were playing me for a dupe. You know how you felt when I landed in—I saw that awful, disbelieving look on your face. That’s how I felt when I saw the banknote. I thought you and Eliot were working together—maybe in tandem with Mrs. Mailer, whom you call ‘Aunt Yootha,’ as though you were all one happy family. I wasn’t rational; I just wanted to hurt and humiliate you. Even then, I had no notion of letting it go to court. I hope you can believe that and understand how I felt.”
“Despite my best intentions of being intransigent, I do understand. At some future date, after my toe stops throbbing like a drum, I’m sure I shall forgive, too. Please don’t ask it of me tonight. Between the picture and the search warrant and Four Hands Thomson, I’m afraid ...”
I felt his hands grabbing mine, not with any amorous intent, but in surprise. “What picture?” he asked swiftly.
I was distressed at what had slipped out and tried to brush it aside, but he persisted shamelessly. “Just a little ivory miniature I found in the house.”
“The picture of the blonde under Graham’s pillow?” he asked.
So he had seen it in his searches. My full shame was known by him all along—that Graham had served me false—and I, like an idiot, had been hailing him as a paragon.
“There’s no reason to think it means anything, Belle,” he consoled me. “She’s probably a favorite niece or cousin.”
I grasped at this slender straw for appearance’s sake. Though Graham had never favored one particular niece or cousin over another, I knew that he had several. “Of course that must be it, but it gave me a bit of a surprise.”
Desmond regaled me with imaginary tales of favorite female relatives whose likenesses encumbered his bedroom, and I, with equal civility, did not call him liar but only asked, “Are you sure you have room for a bed with all those pictures cluttering up the place, Desmond?”
He turned a sparkling eye on me. “Definitely. I consider a bed one of life’s greatest necessities—and pleasures, if one has the proper companion.”
“In your case, that would mean a female, I presume?”
“A female? I don’t accept just any indefinite article in my bed. She must be the female of my choice.”
By the time we reached Elm Street all our anger and mistrust had evaporated. I had accidentally called him Desmond once, and it seemed artificial to return to Mr. Maitland after that.
“I’ll get onto Stone tomorrow,” he said when the carriage drew to a stop. “I’ll have Grant take a look around his place. I have a few other ideas as well.”
“What kind of ideas?”
“I plan to return to the scene of the crime—not your place but where the trade was made—and follow Graham’s route home. We originally thought he might have dropped the bundle off at K. Norman’s flat, you recall. He didn’t, but I may be struck with some other inspiration as I drive along.”
“If you ask me very nicely, I might go with you,” I offered.
“Then I shan’t ask you nicely. You wouldn’t enjoy it.”
My extraordinary condescension in offering was rejected out of hand. It was enough to return me to bad humor and make me realize how thoroughly despicable Desmond Maitland was.
“Then I shall have Eliot take me. He’s dropping by tomorrow,” I said, but I was very careful not to make it sound spiteful.
“That will teach me a lesson! I can be led, Belle, but not by childish threats.”
“Do tell me the secret, in case I ever want to lead you anywhere. Coventry comes to mind.”
“Most ladies find this the best way,” he said, and swept me into his arms.
For the second time that night I was victimized by a person who considered himself a gentleman. Mr. Maitland had been drinking wine, like Mr. Thomson. He was every bit as persistent, yet the overall experience was entirely dissimilar. His young lips burned hot, and mine responded, against my better judgment. The heat radiated through me and around us, firing spirit and imagination with emotions never felt before. As a clergyman’s daughter, I made token recognition that this must be wrong, yet it felt absolutely right and natural and inevitable. And rapturously ecstatic.
My voice, when at last I was free to speak, was a trembling whisper. “I really must go now.”
“Am I tarnishing your halo, darling?” he teased. His dark eyes caught a light from the street lamps and reflected it just before his head descended again. I turned my halo to escape further tarnishing and discovered a spot more sensitive than the lips. A warm breath penetrated my ear as his lips nibbled at the lobe. Those same breaths entered my body, causing tremendous chaos as they surged to my brain and billowed through the bloodstream to cause havoc in my breast.
I moved again, but his arms prevented any drastic physical estrangement between us. His lips nibbled at my jaw and brushed down my neck to the hollow of my throat, and I could feel my heart pulse at a fast beat. The whole world seemed to be turning faster, at a dizzying speed. His cheek felt warm against my breast, and his hair was as rich and soft as merino under my fingers.
Then he raised his head and gazed at me. With a perfectly serious face he asked, “May I take it you and I are no longer sworn enemies, Miss Haley?”
“I hardly ever permit sworn enemies to compromise me, Mr. Maitland.”
A smile broke. “Compromise? I would hardly, say we had gone so far as all that! An Esther might be compromised by a kiss, but surely a woman who has been engaged may be allowed a little more latitude in her dealings.”
“In London, perhaps. In Bath, I assure you, this engaged lady was never so well handled as she has been this night.”
He seemed surprised; taken aback is hardly too strong to describe the startled face he wore. “I’m afraid I got carried away. Next time I shall try to behave as properly as the Bath gentlemen.”
“Comparisons are odious, Des. Just try to believe I am not a liar and a thief. That will do for a start.”
“Let us both try to develop some trust. I won’t believe you want to steal the money if you promise to believe I’m not out to bilk Pelty. That stung, my sweet!”
“Good! Now you know how I felt.”
“Angels are subject to revenge, are they?” he asked, and chucked my chin. “My reading of theology is outdated. Your mama will think you one of the fallen angels if you go in looking like this.”
I thought I must be showing the afterglow of our embraces, but when he took out his handkerchief and wiped a smudge of dust from my cheek I realized he had referred to my tumble in the dust.
“I see the lights are on, so they made it safely home. They’ll be worried about me. I must go.”
“Dare I present myself at your door tomorrow?”
“I’ll pave the way.”
We got out and Desmond walked me to the door. “I’m really very sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you, Belle. One day we’ll look back and laugh at it, eh?” This intimation of a shared future brought a smile to my face. “I see you can smile already.”
“I’m too tired to frown or scold.”
“Good, such opportunities can’t be wasted.” I received another crushing kiss and went in, still hot from lovemaking, to deliver a halfhearted scold to Esther and Mama. But I could not be too severe with them, for they were so very concerned about my safety and the destruction of my new bronze gown. It was a shambles, but not nearly so bad as my coiffure and dirty face—and, of course, my toe, which was rapidly turning a nasty livid shade. I made much of Desmond’s heroic behavior in order to
pave the way for his return.
“Since he’s back in your good books, it’s a pity you looked so horrid,” Esther pointed out.
“Some people don’t judge by looks, Esther,” I said grandly. “You, for instance, don’t seem to care a groat that Mr. Duke is an ankle biter. I do admire your being able to overlook his appearance. It seems Des doesn’t mind my looking like a beggar, either.’’
She chose to take this as a compliment on her character, and we all retired happily.
Chapter Twelve
The tyrant was in top form next morning to trim her brood into line. Mama was subjected to a scold for not having quizzed Mr. Stone about the banknote.
“I did not want to hurt his feelings, Belle. I am more convinced than ever that he had nothing to do with it. It is that Maitland fellow who has turned your head again, even after the way he treated us.”
“He treated me very well, Mama. If it were not for him, I wouldn’t be here with you today but would be in some home for seduced and abandoned women,” I reminded her. “Where Esther will end up if she continues carrying on as she did last night.”
Esther paid no heed. She was off in the clouds remembering the glory of Haymarket, or perhaps the grandeur of Mr. Duke’s five feet and four inches of chubbiness. After my scold, I had one piece of good news for them.
“I have decided to hire a team for Graham’s carriage for the remainder of our short stay.”
“Do you think it worthwhile for only a day?” Mama asked.
