“I’ll give you more if you allow me to take Tina for a day,” she said. The price of doing such a thing was always very high, usually more than Christin could afford, but she did it on occasion when a part of her soul felt as though she would die if she left Tina there. After a visit, Christin didn’t sleep right for days.
Jack didn’t waste her time and nodded. His blue eyes, which had once seemed to bring so much cheer into the world, stared at her with mute coldness before moving to count the coins. “Take her for a week if you can afford it.”
That offer surprised Christin. She’d never been allowed to take Tina for more than a day, and Tina had never been allowed to sleep at Christin’s home. She always brought the girl back right before bed.
A week?
She felt Tina inch closer.
“How much?” Christin asked.
“Three hundred pounds,” Jack said easily.
Christin’s stomach fell. “Three hundred pounds?” It was an amount equal to the allowance of a young lord, making it so he could live in luxury for the year and entertain at his leisure. “I don’t have that sort of money.”
Jack shrugged and came closer, putting the purse in a pocket. “Then the girl stays here.”
Christin closed her eyes to stop herself from crying in Jack’s presence. It never worked in her favor in the end.
When he touched her arm, she jumped, nearly knocking Tina over. She had to steady the girl with her hand to keep her upright.
“Don’t,” Christin said in anger.
“I’ll knock off a whole hundred pounds if you come to my room,” Jack whispered.
A whole hundred pounds? Christin wouldn’t sleep with him for any amount of money.
But she would if he would give Tina to her.
She’d made that offer years ago, never feeling an ounce of guilt for it.
She knew better than to accept anything less. After all, she did live next door to a famous courtesan. And Christin had years of practice at bargaining herself. She knew that if she started to offer favors for days with Tina, soon it would be what she would do for a few hours.
She knew this in her heart, and so she never acted on any of his offers, always holding out for a day she knew would never come, when Tina was truly and completely hers.
Jack frowned, showing emotion for the first time since Christin had walked into the room. “Fine, just the two hundred.”
“I don’t have two hundred pounds.” Such an amount would force her to let go of some of the apprentices she’d taken in. Perhaps by the end of the season, she’d have positioned enough servants to negotiate further, but two hundred was out of the question. “One hundred,” Christin whispered. That would cut into her personal funds, but what was a dress and a few fancy meals when her niece was hungry? She would live off broth if it meant keeping Tina for a week.
Something flickered in Jack’s eyes that made Christin’s skin crawl. Jack looked at Tina, who was now fully buried in Christin’s skirts, before turning to Christin. “Two hundred pounds or no more visits.”
She froze. “What? Why?” She shook her head. “I give you money every month.”
“And that’s to feed the girl and keep a roof over her head,” Jack reasoned.
Christin looked around but shut her mouth before she could shout. Not in front of Tina. Never in front of her. She turned to the girl. “Go to the other room, dear, so I can speak with Jack.”
Tina didn’t want to let her go. A tear slid down Christin’s cheek as she pried small fingers from her skirts and pushed her down the hall. “It’ll only be a minute, darling.” Once the girl closed the door behind her, Jack advanced, and Christin moved to the sitting room and placed herself behind the pile of broken furniture as though Jack had planned to build a bonfire of it. “What do you mean, I can’t see her?”
“I need the money, Christin.” He’d not come into the room but instead blocked her only exit.
“What would you need two hundred pounds for?” Christin asked.
His eyes moved to the furniture. “I owe someone a great deal of money.”
“Why?”
His gaze lifted and hardened. “That’s not your concern, but I need the money or…”
“Or what?” she asked, her heart already beating in her throat.
Jack glanced down the hall for a long time and then turned back to Christin. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how pretty Tina has become.”
A wave of nausea hit her, and though she’d always feared this day would come, she’d always prayed it wouldn’t. “You wouldn’t…”
“She’d make a fine working girl.” Jack didn’t sound pleased by his words but neither did he seem bothered by them either. He was simply cold and unfeeling. “A man would pay a high sum for her maidenhead.”
That he could speak so plainly of it made Christin want to rake her nails across his face. “Don’t you dare!” Her sister was likely rolling in her grave.
“I need the money,” he told her. “And he’s likely to come for her himself if I don’t pay.”
The fear that grabbed her nearly doubled her over. “Who do you owe?”
He looked down the hall again. “A man you don’t want to meet.”
“Who?” She didn’t know what knowing would do for her, but she simply had to.
Jack met her eyes. “Bancroft.”
Bancroft.
Gryffon Bancroft.
Everyone knew who the man was, a lower-class gentleman who’d somehow climbed his way to the upper-class ranks, controlling Covent Garden and managing to make friends with peers. One day he’d not existed, but in the next, there he was.
He was the reason Covent Garden remained safe at night, so that the wealthy could walk the streets without fear. He took a cut from most of the businesses in the area. Even Christin paid him a fee, though she’d never met the man herself. Potter Agency had been paying him a small portion since before she’d taken over the business and she’d continued out of fear… and with the knowledge that crime was indeed very low in Covent Garden.
But if that monster thought he could have her niece, she’d ensure that he knew that Tina was off the table.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Christin said.
“You’d better hurry and get me my money then,” he said before adding, “And until you have it, don’t come back.
Christin didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have two hundred pounds to give him.
Perhaps she could persuade Bancroft to leave Jack alone, but she didn’t know if that was wise.
“What did you do to owe Bancroft money?” Christin asked.
Jack finally pocketed the coin she’d given him. “That’s not for you to worry about. Now get out.”
“At least let me say goodbye to—”
“No,” Jack said as he held her gaze.
Christin dropped her shoulders and the urge to beg hit her, but she knew her time here was over. She started toward Jack and jumped when he grabbed her waist and pulled her against him.
“One day, you’ll come willingly,” he whispered in her ear. “But until then...”
She said nothing but held herself completely still as she waited for him to release her.
When he did, she felt a slap on her rear before she made it to the door and fled.
Thankfully, the hack was still in the alley, and she climbed in without a word.
She let her tears fall as soon as the vehicle turned into traffic.
There were times when she wondered if this was the cost for her sins. She’d never deserved John’s love, but she’d taken it. She’d sought him out for pure selfish comfort in her time of grief and he’d been there. He’d loved her more than she could ever love him and though she’d tried to be the best wife possible— and even to return his love— she had always felt as though it was never enough.
John Potter had deserved more, and she’d used him, only marrying him to take away the pain and for the security of his family name. The Potters were a w
ell-known family and well respected, but more so, kind. She’d known that marriage to John would keep her safe from choosing someone like Jack, who’d turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Why Aaron came to mind at that very moment, she didn’t know. He was much like a wolf, dangerous, but in a very different way. She’d not felt so much like prey with him—though she was sure she was, in the grand scheme of it all—but his strength had made her feel safe.
And it was a different sort of safety than the one that John had presented.
She was sure that in Aaron’s keeping, no one could hurt her.
That very thought made her more determined to keep him away.
She’d not use him. She’d never use a man again.
Coming to St. Giles was painful, but Christin would not allow Tina to suffer Jack alone. She would keep coming so long as her niece was there. Still, she worried for Tina’s safety more than she ever had in the past.
Her plan to leave town now pressed more on her heart. If she couldn’t get Bancroft to release Jack from the debt, then she’d have to leave everything behind and take what she could and start over somewhere else.
Where didn’t matter so long as she and Tina were together.
Perhaps, the duchess could give her some advice. She’d never asked Alice for help before, though she had told the woman of her dire situation. Nothing could be done where the courts were concerned, so Alice’s alliance with one of the most powerful homes in London hadn’t been of much use to Christin.
But maybe Alice would know of a place where Christin and Tina would be safe.
She tried to think of the last time she’d ever felt safe.
The memory of a kiss brushed against her senses, and the Earl of Jeanshire again became the focus of her thoughts.
She’d thought of him endlessly during the last few days and recalled how lovely it had been to be once again in a man’s arms.
Powerful arms.
Christin was not a light woman, and Aaron had picked her up with an ease that had left her breathless, carrying her across the room on powerfully muscled thighs and touching her with hands that seemed to have enough strength to break through a diamond.
She shivered as she remembered his fingers on her thighs, bunching up her skirts.
What a memory it was. What a memory it could have been, had she allowed him to take them further.
She smiled lightly.
It would have been a lovely thing to take with her once she left the city.
The hack stopped outside the teahouse in Covent Garden. Christin wiped at her tears and wondered if she should simply go home. Tea was an expense she could no longer afford if she was going to take Tina.
But then she remembered that she needed to speak to Alice.
She climbed out of the paid hack and went inside.
The scent of herbs clung to the air, and the sound of chatter almost lifted her spirits. Covent Garden was a much better area than St. Giles. Anywhere was better than there.
She was greeted by one of the servants and shown to a table in a back room.
The room was more like a glasshouse with plants and windows that allowed what little sunlight the clouds would allow London to have that day.
There was only one table in the small paradise and unsurprisingly, Alice was not alone.
Six women looked up at her, but it was Alice who stood, her expression startled. “What’s the matter?”
Christin tried for a smile, but just a glance in Alice’s eyes made her emotions give way. She choked on a sob and with a wave of a hand, started back out the door. She didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of these ladies.
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CHAPTER SIX
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Small hands grabbed her and turned her around, and Christin found her face buried in Alice’s shoulder. Tears racked Christin’s body and seemed to be torn from her heart. Alice’s signature scent of lemon made Christin recall all the many times she’d wept with the woman.
They’d both wept as children for one reason or another. When Alice’s mother had died. When both of Christin’s parents had followed.
The sound of chairs being scraped back rang through the room. Another pair of hands touched her before yet another, and Christin found herself in the midst of a hug and surrounded by the warmth of women who’d become very dear to her.
Christin often tried to keep her distance from people, but with the Spinsters, it was almost impossible. They were much too kind. She knew some better than others. Florence, she’d known for at least a decade. They’d met when Margaret had hired some of Christin’s maids— for cleaning services only. Since then, the two spoke on occasion and had even had tea in Margaret’s private rooms.
Christin met Lorena last year when she’d come to hire servants for her house with the Earl of Ashwick. At first, she’d thought the woman didn’t like her, but over tea, she’d found Lorena to be abundantly kind.
Then she’d met Sophia when Alice had needed a secret way to enter Madam Margaret's without being noticed. The rest? Afternoon teas and business appointments. She adored them all and thought all their husbands very fortunate.
Christin eventually calmed under the love she felt from each of the hands that held her and then smiled around the circle, surprised to see more than a few teary eyes. A handkerchief was produced, and Christin accepted it. “Thank you.”
Alice led her to a seat that had been vacant by her side, and a footman appeared to push her in.
“What’s happened?” Alice asked.
Christin looked at her and then around the table. She’d never shared the depths of her soul with anyone but Alice and Sophia, and she’d only shared with Sophia because of how much they had in common.
But Christin sensed that if she let her burdens fall, these women were more than capable of holding onto them.
And, of course, they were. It was no secret that the Society helped women from all walks of life. That was their charitable aim.
But she sensed more than just pity from those gathered around her. She also felt friendship.
“I’m leaving London,” Christin said.
“Why?” Sophia asked with wide eyes.
Christin shook her head. “I have to get Tina away from that man.”
“Who’s Tina?” Lorena asked. “Who's that man?” The woman narrowed her blue eyes and fisted her hands as though ready to fight on a complete stranger’s behalf.
Christin smiled at her. “Tina is my niece. She’s eight.”
“And I suppose that man would be Jack,” Alice said grimly as she poured Christin a cup of tea.
Christin nodded. “He owes a man a great deal of money. If I can’t get the money, he’s willing to allow Tina to work it off for him.”
There was a loud gasp from around the room.
Genie slammed open hands on the table. “Oh, I hate men!”
Christin picked up the cup of tea before her and toasted the other woman’s sentiments.
Men.
“So you’re going to run?” Taygete asked, clenching her stomach with a worried expression.
Christin nodded and sipped her tea. “Well, first I plan on speaking to Bancroft, but if that doesn’t work then… yes, I’ll run.”
“Bancroft?” Sophia asked. “You mean Mr. Gryffon Bancroft?” She picked up her fan and started fanning herself. Christin almost thought it nerves, but then she hadn’t thought Sophia the sort to grow nervous. Perhaps she was simply very warm.
Christin nodded. “Jack owes Bancroft money. If I can arrange the debt to be paid off another way…”
Alice asked a question that had bothered Christin since the plan formed. “But what’s to stop Jack from owing Bancroft money again?”
“I plan to ask that he not let Jack do business with him again,” Christin said. “If I can’t p
ersuade him, then I’ll leave.” Though it would pain her to give up the business. She’d not been of Potter blood, yet Mrs. Potter had trusted Christin would see to its future.
“Bancroft is not an easy man to get to,” Sophia said. “I know, I’ve tried to get him to do an interview for the paper. He’s a very private individual.” And if a duchess hadn’t been given entrance, Christin was worried about her own chances.
“I’ve met him,” Genie said as she ate a cake. She’d eaten quite a few of them since Christin had sat.
Lorena turned to her with outrage. “You've never told me that you’ve met Bancroft.”
Genie blinked with a cake poised by her lips. “Oh, I haven't? I thought I had.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “No, you have not indeed. When did you meet him?”
“And why wasn’t I allowed to go?” Lorena asked, reaching for her own cake with no small amount of anger. Christin wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the woman throw so many tantrums at once.
Lady Genevieve Cullip ate her cake without haste and then said, “I met him at his offices with Francis and William. They invested in Nezzer.”
Nezzer was the newest garden in the city. Themed after the ancient tales of King Nebuchadnezzar's Hanging Gardens, it had become London’s most intriguing place to spend the day, bringing in wealthy patrons from all around the world.
Yet while the city enjoyed their newest garden, no one ever seemed to see its wealthy owner.
Christin had taken Tina on their last day together, allowing the girl to have a memory of paradise before returning to a place that was no better than hell.
“Interesting,” Sophia said. “Do you think Francis could get us a meeting with Bancroft?”
Us? The question rang in Christin’s mind.
Genie shook her head. “No, and he’s forbidden me from ever going there again. I only met him the once, but Francis and William have spoken to him plenty.” Sir William Tift was another member of the Brotherhood. Christin hadn’t met him, but Sophia kept the city informed on the men who were just as much celebrities as anyone.
Christin's Splendid Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 5
