“What do you want?” I hated the way my voice quavered.
“You.”
“Why?”
“I don’t ask, I just do. Shut up, you talk too much.” A note of satisfaction entered his voice, but that was the last thing I heard. The pistol moved from my forehead, and I wondered if Carier had the time yet. Then a stinging blow struck the side of my head, and before the numbness had turned to pain, blackness fell and I knew no more.
Chapter Eleven
“I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS, Rose.”
“Eh?” My senses swam, my head ached, but I recognised the voice of Steven Drury. I groaned.
Something cool touched my forehead and I dared to open my eyes, squinting into the pool of light cast by an oil lamp. A black oil lamp, the kind that watchmen and others used outside at night. Still, I was glad of the soft glow, but the stink of burning oil turned my stomach.
I reached up my hand and found a cool cloth placed reverently over my forehead. “Oh no, not again!”
“It’s not my doing.” Steven stepped back and water splashed into a bowl. He returned with another cloth, which he gave to me to place where I wanted.
When I touched my temple where the ruffian had struck me, I winced. “Ouch.” I flexed my feet and hands, and took mental inventory. Nothing appeared broken and my baby was quiet, but not ominously so. “Whose idea was this? And do you know what Richard will do to you?” My heart sank. The worst, the absolute worst. He’d come down like an avenging angel, in force with firepower. And probably kill his son, the very thing I wanted to avoid.
“I know. I sent word to him, but I don’t know where he is, so it might take my man some time to find him.”
“So tell me what happened.” I peered up at Steven. He wore modest evening attire, dark green, I noted, but not ball dress. “And where I am.”
“You’re at the club.” I might have guessed. “Kneller has some harebrained scheme of luring your husband here to incriminate him.”
“Incriminate him in what?”
“Taking part in the activities here.” Steven shoved his hands in his pockets. “I tell you, Rose, I’m tired of the whole thing. The club, the obligations, everything.”
If I hadn’t been sure it would hurt, I’d have laughed. So typical of Steven, thinking of his own problems first. “Does she have anyone from Grub Street or the gossip sheets here?” Hawked on the street, many people bought the gossip sheets in preference to newspapers, more expensive and mainly available for free at the coffeehouses. Word spread fast and escalated with every person it reached. Instability spelled death to business arrangements, financial loans and the intricate network that kept the country afloat. Not that John Kneller worried about any of that.
“Would you like a drink?”
I thought I might, but when I sat up, the world reeled and I retched. Steven found a pail, and I was copiously sick. Then I took the glass from his hand and rinsed my mouth out, tasting the rank blandness of boiled water. I preferred my boiled water in tea and coffee. I felt weak, sick and my head throbbed with a pulse I knew would only increase. I’d been struck on the head by that vicious criminal. I was lucky to be alive.
Steven sat next to me and hauled me up against his shoulder. “Any better?”
I groaned in response so he gave up and laid me back down. I lay on a wooden settle, a lumpy and none-too-clean pillow at my head, but I wasn’t about to complain now. The room also held a bed, and I wondered at Steven’s not putting me down there, but considering the vaunted activities of the house, I was more than pleased I lay here. Heaven knew what awaited the unsuspecting occupant of the bed. Bugs, diseases and stains, I’d be bound. I shuddered.
“I’m sorry, Rose.”
“Stop saying that. You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, Steven Drury.” Pain made me tetchy. Richard had discovered that when I gave birth to Helen. At the reminder, I covered my stomach with my free hand and felt a small movement, a quiver. Thank God. “Why don’t you control your menace of a wife? You married her, doesn’t that mean you control her finances?”
“Unfortunately, no. We have an allowance from her father, enough to meet our daily needs, but she has control of a trust. Her father thinks she has a good business mind.” He took a turn around the room. I hoped he wasn’t planning to leave. He was the weak point and I was safer while Steven remained with me.
“She probably does.”
“No she doesn’t. She spent all the money on this place. It’s an outside risk, long odds, a gamble and I don’t think she’ll win.”
I could find more out while I was here and thinking about it would fight off the terror that slowly crept along my bones. I wouldn’t let it take control. Couldn’t. “What would you do?”
“Set up a portfolio.” I remembered now. Steven had always been interested in financial matters, but he’d never had the money to indulge. And with Julia keeping him short of cash, he probably couldn’t now. “I’d invest in ships and in transport, as well as putting some away in sure investments, savings, property, that kind of thing. Not that I’ve been able to put more than a pittance away.”
“You have a portfolio?”
He swung to face me, alarm widening his eyes. “Don’t tell her. Please. She’ll have that too. She’s pushing every penny into this place. She’s obsessed, Rose.”
Ah. I had something to hold against him. But not now. If he thought I planned to use it, he could kill me. Not that I thought that a probability, merely a possibility, a result of panic. Until someone who knew me saw me here, I was in danger, because they could kill me, put my body somewhere else or even drop it in the river. So I said, “I won’t say anything. I just want to get out of here.”
“You do?”
“That’s all. Steven, did you say you’d sent for Richard?”
“Sent someone to look for him. But I don’t know how reliable the man is. I couldn’t use anyone here, word would get back, so I found someone on the street. A fruit seller. Gave him a guinea and promised him another if he succeeded.”
“Did you send a note?”
“No, I said to say that Rose was in danger and needed him.”
I groaned. “Just like the message that Kneller sent to me? Richard will go after him first. Is he here?”
Steven took the cloth from my forehead and wrung it out in the cold water again. He replaced it tenderly. “I don’t know. But I said ‘Rose’, not your full name, so I hope he realises it comes from you. It was all I could do. If I don’t hear soon, I’ll go out myself.”
Maybe he should have done that in the first place.
“But I don’t know what they’ll do if I leave you alone.”
Ah yes, that. Somewhat of a problem there. “Are they mad? Richard won’t stop until he sees them dead if they do more to me.”
“You think I don’t know that?” His voice rose, panicked. “I know what he can do.” Ah yes, he’d seen Richard at his most murderous.
“So does John.” Why the younger man persisted in thinking his father effete and ineffectual I wasn’t sure. I’d have thought last year would have taught him a thing or two. John still bore a scar from that, when Richard had driven a knife through his hand, pinning him to a table. He’d been lucky to keep the use of his hand.
Steven gave me a glum stare. “He took it as a challenge. They spent days laughing at you two, which I didn’t mind in the least, but their underestimation of your husband and what he’s capable of is more a result of blind arrogance. They can’t imagine that anyone is better than they are.”
Another weak spot. Arrogance. “After what we did to your assassin? You saw him after, didn’t you?”
The man they’d sent to kill us. Richard had disabled him, ensured he couldn’t use his hands to effectively manipulate a weapon and sent him back as a message to Julia. Who had killed him. I’d pleaded for the man’s life, and Richard had allowed it. Not for the man, but for Richard, who felt every death hard and suffered for it more than he let anyone know. I wan
ted to shield him from that, and I tried to ameliorate his activities or send the perpetrators to jail and perhaps the gallows, but at least Richard couldn’t hold himself responsible for their deaths.
“I saw him.” Steven paused and cleared his throat. “I thought it worse to let him live like that. Julia didn’t want witnesses.” That was the closest I’d ever heard to him admitting that they had killed Abel. He spread his hands and burst out, “I don’t want this, Rose! When you rejected me in favour of Strang, I was eaten up by jealousy. Then Julia seduced me, and I thought myself such a man.” He slapped his palm against his forehead. “But she’s tangling herself up in business she has no way of controlling.”
Up until then I’d despised him. Now I realised he was probably the more sensible one of the two. We knew from Pitt’s interest that Julia had stirred some hornets’ nests she should have left alone. If we didn’t bring her down, Pitt and his minions would. And they’d do it with a humiliating public flourish. It appeared that Steven understood it and Julia didn’t. They wouldn’t allow her to go too fast, too soon, especially by such blatant manipulation and extortion as she planned. They’d trim their branches, drop the allies who’d become an embarrassment, and use new ones instead.
“So what do you want me to do?” I felt weak and sick. I wanted nothing more than to lie in a darkened room for a day. Maybe two or three.
“Tell them and help me control her. Your husband has money and influence. I’ll do what I can to help.”
But only because he saw his precious new life of wealth and comfort easing away from him. Julia would leave him with nothing but herself, and from Freddy’s description, she’d be too addled with disease to be worth anything at all.
“We’ll be in touch.” I moaned, an involuntary sound dragged out of me. The door creaked as it opened.
In the opening stood Julia Drury in a state of undress. She wore a pair of black stays, more tightly laced than I’d ever seen stays before so that they cinched in her waist to an unnatural size and pushed her breasts up and her hips down. Nothing else except a pair of black red-heeled shoes. She clutched a riding crop in one hand. Her fair hair flowed over her shoulders to touch her exposed nipples, although teasing rather than covering. Patches adorned her face, fanciful images I couldn’t see at this distance, but I wondered if they covered sores and spots. My first thought was to wonder who she was in mourning for, but that must have been my fevered brain working too hard.
She wasn’t alone. John Kneller had his arm around her waist, dragging her close against his body. He wore a little more than Julia, breeches and a shirt, untucked at the waist so the white fabric skimmed his hips. He’d increased in bulk, muscles bulging under the fine, transparent linen. His hair, as golden as his father’s, flowed loose, so he appeared as nothing so much as an angel standing in the rich glow of candlelight from behind him.
At least the open door would let some of the stink of this room out, the combined odours of lamp oil and human congress. I’d almost accustomed myself to the smell, but it would linger. I’d never wear this sacque again, which was a pity because it was one of my favourites. Had been.
The newcomers wore supercilious smiles, finishing their dress appropriately. I glanced at them then looked away. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
Julia strode forward, swishing her crop. Stupid woman. If she hit me with that, she’d have it returned tenfold. I couldn’t have stopped Richard from inflicting the damage, nor would I wish to. But it seemed she merely wanted to tease me with it. She drew the end around my neck, and I tried to ignore the way it raised goose bumps in its wake.
“She might like this.”
I opened my eyes to see Julia above me, her crotch alarmingly close to my face and adding another scent to the stomach-turning mix.
“Take it away.” I turned my head towards the back of the seat. “Just leave me alone and tell me when Richard gets here.”
“How do you know he hasn’t been here all along?” She spoke in deliberate, sultry tones that were so assumed they sounded ridiculous. I didn’t bother to reply. The answer was, I thought, obvious. “You know he visits regularly and samples the wares on offer with great enthusiasm?”
“What sort of idiot do you think I am?” I paused. “No, I’ll answer that. One who got too close to a thug to prevent this kind of injury.”
“I never meant for that,” John said. “I regret the necessity.”
I peered at him. “What necessity?”
“I need to speak to him but he has constantly refused to meet me.”
“And do you blame him? He avoided you at my request. I had no desire to make a spectacle of him or you in the full glare of public approbation. This isn’t a Drury Lane play. Although…” I turned my attention from him to his companion. “That puts me in mind of where I last saw someone with a get-up like yours. With a few additions, of course. The theatre. You mistook your profession, Julia.”
I watched in disbelieving astonishment as she preened. “I’ve taken on a few roles in the club. I may have a talent I hadn’t been aware of before.” She glanced at Steven, giving him the kind of cool disdain I might give to an importunate beggar. “Didn’t I tell you what to do?”
I followed her gaze to the bed. I hadn’t noticed before that the tumble of black cloth amounted to a kind of wrapper, but when Julia thankfully left my side to pick it up, I would have shrunk back like a maiden faced with her first erection had there been room on this narrow sofa. Transparent silk, and in my condition I’d have regarded it as obscene.
“I tried to lift her, but when I did, she vomited. It’s hardly my fault the man hit her too hard.”
“Or had to hit her at all,” Julia said, her lip curling. “I rewarded him for his carelessness. This will add a touch of authenticity. That rag she’s wearing looks far too respectable for this house.” As did the pair of stays, quilted petticoat and shift I had on underneath, I presumed. Well if they wanted to strip me, they could have at it, but I’d decorate a few of them bloody before I’d done. Already my gorge rose, but Steven saw it and had the bucket under my chin.
I felt like I’d crawled out from under a rock, but at least I had the cloth from my forehead to wipe my face, and Steven gave me the water again. I rinsed out my mouth, careful not to sip any, although my dry mouth and sore throat screamed out for it. I wouldn’t put it past them to put something in that to keep me docile. As it was, the knock on the head had rendered me docile enough.
Drowsy lethargy crept through my limbs, but I used all the strength I had to fight it. After Steven had removed the pail, Julia stepped towards me, the garment, if it could be called that, in her hands. “Lift her,” she said. “We’ll get it on her before she falls ill again.”
I had no choice. Too many of them. But I was glad when they only stripped off my gown and petticoat, leaving me in the stays, shift and stockings. Unlike Julia’s concoction, my stays covered the lower part of my bosom and my nipples, but only just. The areolas skimmed the top. But the stays were never meant for show, and my shift covered a little more. A shame the stays were of soft red leather that showed alarmingly well through the black silk wrapper.
“This won’t keep me very warm.” My rounded stomach protruded through, and I looked the worst I’d ever been.
But Julia examined me, scanning me thoroughly. “I can see the appeal. Perhaps we’ll recruit a few women in the same condition. How far gone are you?”
I shrugged as best I could. “Five or six months. Why?”
Julia stared at my belly. “Because it’s grotesque. I wish I could avoid it, but I’ll need a child soon.”
“If you’re still capable of bearing one.”
She took a step forward and lifted her hand, but before she brought it down someone behind her said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Julia. I’ve always kept my violent tendencies for my own sex, but in your case I might make an exception. In fact, if you finish that action, I certainly will.”
I let m
y breath out in a long sigh, fighting the certainty that now Richard had arrived everything would be all right. But knights on white chargers sometimes needed help, and he certainly did. I knew that, especially when I saw the expression on Julia’s face. Pure satisfaction.
This was what she really wanted. Richard in her club, seen by everyone. She lowered her hand to her side and stared at me, a smile curving her lips. She turned around but to one side, allowing me to see her face as well as my husband’s.
Richard wore full evening dress. He must have come straight from the ball I’d excused myself from tonight. His solitaire diamond glittered from between the folds of his neckcloth as he breathed, and when he moved, the light hit the brilliants sewn into his waistcoat and the diamonds on the buttons. And his coat and breeches were lavender, although the sword in his hand was a serviceable weapon, not meant for the ballroom. Delicate, beautiful and deadly, Richard strolled into the room.
He swept Julia a bow and bestowed a smaller, more suitable one on Steven, who bemusedly returned it. He nodded to John. “I have come for one reason only, and that’s to collect my wife. I have no interest in anything else.” He smiled at me. “Are you ready to leave?”
“More than ready.” When I tried to get to my feet, emulating his elegance, I staggered. Steven, the nearest to me, reached out his hand, and I took it but released it when I sensed Richard’s murderous mood. I sank back down on the couch. “Just a moment, please.”
He bent down. “I’ll carry you.” His voice was soft, tender.
My heart quailed at the thought of being carried out wearing the black silk monstrosity. “My gown.”
Richard glanced at where I motioned. “Someone give it to her.”
Nobody moved until John took a pace to deliberately block anyone’s passage to where my sacque lay on the bed. To get to it, someone would have to move him out of the way. He spread his legs, put his hands on his hips like that old portrait of Henry VIII, though he looked more like a petulant boy than a powerful monarch. “I want my say. I had her brought here for that purpose. You’ve avoided me, made it impossible to talk to you. Your house is barred to me, and your friends effectively prevent me from approaching you in the clubs and coffeehouses. You left me with no choice.”
Maiden Lane Page 13
