by Diane Gaston
When the prince returned from Brighton and called for his employment, he would be grateful she’d refused his guilty proposal of marriage.
While he dressed silently, she twisted her hair into a hasty knot, fastening it with the pins he’d removed earlier. Without seeming to take notice if she was ready, he left the room and descended the stairs to the hall. By the time she joined him, he was already in hat and gloves, waiting by the door for her. She hurried into her bonnet and gloves and he opened the door.
‘We can walk, I believe.’ He spoke stiffly. ‘Greythorne will not know from where we came.’
She had forgotten about Greythorne. After he closed and locked the door, she glanced back at it, the place she’d felt such joy, such desolation. Outside its door nothing remained but the horror of Greythorne, the loss of her father, and the sordid prospect of becoming Tannerton’s kept woman. Even worse, she would have to face all, knowing she’d lost Flynn totally.
She soon was out of breath trying to keep up with Flynn’s stride. In too short a time they were at Madame Bisou’s door.
‘I leave you here, Rose,’ he said. ‘I suggest you remain indoors tomorrow. Tannerton will send word to you.’ He turned to leave.
She grabbed his arm. ‘Flynn!’ she cried, forgetting everything but loving him. ‘Will I see you again?’
The eyes that regarded her were like ice. ‘If the marquess requires it, I shall comply.’
He turned away as Cummings opened the door, but she did not enter until he rounded the corner and she could no longer see him walking away from her.
Chapter Nineteen
Flynn walked immediately back to the rooms, dreading a return to the bedchamber, the place of loving her.
Inside, he took the steps two at a time, figuring it best to discharge the task quickly. He entered the room and strode directly to the rumpled bed, tearing off the linens and cramming them into a bundle he intended to throw away. Then he set about erasing all evidence of what they had shared in the room. It ought to have felt cathartic to do so. Instead it felt wretched.
How big a fool could he have been? She had completely misguided him. Even now he could not tell the exact nature of her character. Was she the virgin who schemed to be a courtesan, as she’d insisted? Or an innocent caught up in her own desires, and he the man who had awakened them?
No more than an hour later Flynn left the house as if he had never entered it with Rose. He walked back to Audley Street, telling himself he had no need to understand Rose. She would go to Tanner, and that would be the end of it.
As he walked, Flynn laboured to rebuild the wall that hardened his heart. But then he’d catch a memory of her scent, the flash of her smile, or her face flushed with passion, and the wall would crumble, leaving him with no shelter at all.
He was startled by a man who emerged from the shadows, a man who turned and walked in the other direction. Flynn’s heart went cold.
He’d almost forgotten there was a man out there who had killed over her, who might be stalking her at this very moment. No matter his tattered emotions, she still needed to be protected.
He entered Tannerton’s town house at the same moment Tanner strolled out of the library and saw him.
‘Where the devil have you been all day?’ The question was a typical one for Tanner to ask when Flynn had been busy performing one task after another on his behalf. Today, however, his employer’s voice grated on Flynn’s shredded nerves.
‘Errands,’ Flynn replied, keen to get away.
It was no use. ‘Come here a moment,’ Tanner said. ‘I have news.’
Resigned, Flynn turned and followed Tanner into the library.
‘What news?’ He tried to sound interested.
Tanner leaned casually against the desk, crossing his legs at the ankles. ‘I heard from the Bow Street Runner I sent to Brighton yesterday. He returned not an hour ago.’
Flynn came alert. ‘And?’
‘No one has seen Greythorne for several days.’
Flynn’s fingers curled into a fist. ‘This is no surprise.’
‘Indeed.’ Tanner lifted his finger in the air. ‘But it foxed me that the Duke did not send a message alerting me to that fact. It seems Greythorne arrived with his Royal Highness, but quickly shut himself in his rooms with reports he was suffering from some sort of contagious blight. Only his own servants attended him.’
‘Clever of him. He appears to be in Brighton, but is not. And when he has finished his treachery towards…Miss O’Keefe…’ Flynn’s voice faltered. He had difficulty even speaking her name.
Tanner did not seem to notice. Rather, he finished Flynn’s sentence. ‘He will return to Brighton and show himself miraculously recovered.’ Tanner pushed away from the desk. ‘The Runner who went to Greythorne’s town house is convinced he did not return there; however, in the part of town where the bodies were discovered, there had been talk that a gentleman had paid someone to dump them in place where they would be easily found.’
Tanner had spared no expense with these Bow Street Runners. How many had he hired?
‘Thing is,’ Tanner continued, his expression stricken, ‘I didn’t outwit Greythorne, Flynn. I merely made him more dangerous. Some game I engaged in.’ He gave a frustrated sound and rubbed his brow. ‘Where the devil is he?’
Greythorne disdained the plain black coat pulling across his shoulders. Its cut was common, as was its fit. But if he were going to pretend to be a merchant, he had better dress like one.
He looked down his nose at the creature standing before him, common to the core, but useful. ‘Like I said, the gent and the girl left in a coach. I was able to follow it a ways. Heading into Westminster, it was, I’d wager on it.’ The man wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Greythorne cringed.
The man continued, ‘Couldn’t keep up, I couldn’t. So I waited for ’em to return and, let me tell you, they took their time. Took all day, it did.’
Greythorne stifled a yawn. ‘If you have information of value, I beg you would get on with it.’
The man grinned, showing the gap of a missing tooth. ‘Most sure it is of value, sir. Worth a pound or two, I expect, but I’ll let you decide, sir.’
‘Get on with it,’ Greythorne repeated. Paying well was the best guarantee of loyalty, he could agree, but this man was trying his patience.
‘Well.’ The man took a breath. ‘Finally, after I waited all day—and let me tell you how hard it is to wait all day—’
‘Do not.’ Greythorne glared at the man.
‘Anyways, when they finally arrive back at Madame Bisou’s gaming-house, they are walkin’, y’see. And seeing as how the gent left and didn’t take a coach, I followed him.’
This account was tedious in the extreme. Greythorne amused himself by imagining what this creature’s face would look like if a leather strap were twisted around his neck, cutting off the air—
‘Interestingly enough,’ the man went on, ‘the gent didn’t go in the direction of that fancy town house. He went the other way into a building on Great Ryder Street.’
Greythorne sat up. ‘Is that so?’
‘Stayed a few minutes, then come out with a bundle. Tossed the bundle and then walked all the way back to Audley Street.’
This was curious. ‘What was in the bundle?’
The man rubbed his neck. ‘Don’t know, sir, some rascally boys grabbed it afore I could get to it, so I hurried off to see where the gent was going.’
Greythorne grimaced. If this business meant Tannerton got to the O’Keefe chit before he did, he would be very unhappy. ‘Tell me, what did the gentleman look like?’
‘Dark-haired fellow. Looked Irish, if you ask me.’
Greythorne gave a silent laugh. The secretary, Flynn. Excellent. Greythorne had already discovered that Flynn had procured a set of rooms and hired servants. This must have been the girl’s inspection of her new home.
Greythorne stood. ‘Show me this place, and the two pounds will be yo
urs.’
Rose sat at the window, watching gentlemen walk in and out of Madame Bisou’s house, but none was Flynn. There was no use to hope for him to return. She had ensured he would not.
A knock sounded at the door, and Katy came in. ‘Why don’t you come downstairs, Rose? You could sit in the supper room. Those footmen Lord Tannerton sent over could sit nearby.’
Rose shook her head. ‘I’ll stay here. I’m thinking I’m in need of an evening to myself.’ She didn’t sing at Vauxhall this night.
Katy plopped on the bed. ‘Don’t sit here alone all that time. You’ll think of your father or something.’
Her father. The grief of losing her father only made losing Flynn worse.
‘I’ll not think of my father, I promise,’ she told her friend.
Katy swung her legs as she sat, looking like a little girl eager to play. ‘Where were you all day, by the way? Cummings said you went out early, when I was still sleeping.’
‘It was not that early.’ She and Flynn had picked a time anyone might go out.
Katy’s eyes lit up with understanding. ‘You were with Flynnnnn.’ She emphasised Flynn’s name, drawing it out. ‘Where did you go? I hope not to the magistrate again.’
‘Not the magistrate,’ Rose replied.
Katy waited for more.
Rose took a breath. ‘Flynn showed me the rooms he found for me.’
Katy leaned forward. ‘The ones Tannerton purchased?’ She sighed. ‘It is just like Harriette Wilson told us! You get property of your own. Tell me. Are they grand?’
Rose tried to sound as excited as Katy. ‘They are pretty rooms, really. There is a kitchen and a drawing room, a dining room, and abovestairs, a sitting room, and…a bedchamber.’
Katy looked rapturous. But Rose turned away.
‘There is something you are not telling me,’ Katy said.
Rose felt tears spring to her eyes. ‘There is nothing.’
Katy got off the bed and stepped in front of her. ‘What is it, Rose?’
Rose turned away again.
Katy turned her back. ‘Rose?’
Rose clamped her mouth shut.
‘Oh, Rose! You were with Flynn!’ Katy held her shoulders. ‘Ack! I do not know whether to congratulate you or to shake you!’
‘I am not saying I was with Flynn,’ Rose retorted. ‘I am not.’
Katy gave her a hug. ‘Foolish, Rose. What are you going to do?’
‘I am doing nothing,’ Rose insisted. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘Tell me what happened,’ Katy said.
Rose backed away. ‘Katy, there is nothing I can tell you.’
‘Well, did you take care of yourself?’ Katy asked. ‘You know, like Madame Bisou taught us.’
Rose did not answer her.
There was another knock on the door, and Katy hurried over to answer it.
The footman Wiggins stood there. ‘Beg pardon, miss,’ he said to Rose, ‘Mr Flynn sent word we were to stay right outside your door.’
Her stomach did a flip-flop at hearing Flynn’s name. ‘Why, Mr Wiggins?’
‘He said Lord Greythorne was about, and it would be best to guard you close. Me and Smythe will take turns.’
Katy turned pale.
‘Thank you, Mr Wiggins,’ Rose replied, walking over to the door. ‘I shall feel very safe with you there.’ She closed it behind him.
Katy trembled. ‘He is near?’
It was Rose’s turn to comfort. ‘We are very safe, Katy. You are safe. He does not know you reside here, does he?’
She shook her head. ‘I never told him.’ She gave Rose a very intent look. ‘Wait here.’
Katy returned a few minutes later. She lifted Rose’s hand and placed a small sheathed knife in her palm. ‘Take this, just in case. Wear it on you somewhere.’
Rose looked at the small weapon. ‘I should not know what to do with it.’
Katy’s eyes turned fierce. ‘Jab it into his throat.’
The next afternoon, Cummings sent word that Rose had a visitor waiting in the parlor. The hope that it was Flynn swelled inside her. Wiggins and Smythe accompanied her, telling her to stay back while they entered the parlor first. They immediately emerged with grins on their faces. ‘You can go in, miss.’
Nearly giddy with anticipation, Rose stepped into the room.
Tannerton stood there, smiling in greeting.
Her spirits plunged. ‘Good day, sir,’ she managed.
‘And to you, Miss O’Keefe.’ He crossed the room and blew a kiss over her hand. ‘I thought to call on you to see how you were faring.’
‘I am well, sir.’ As always, she did not know what to say to this man. ‘And you?’
He waved his hand dismissively. ‘I am always well.’ He gestured for her to sit on the room’s sofa.
She hesitated, thinking he would sit beside her, fearing he would touch her. She was not ready for that. But she must become accustomed to doing what he wanted. She would be his mistress in one day’s time.
She sat on the sofa.
To her surprise he flung himself in the adjacent chair. ‘Flynn is over at your rooms, seeing all is in order. He told me he showed them to you. Are they to your liking?’
Hearing Flynn’s name was painful, and it was painful to think of him in those rooms where she had been so briefly happy. ‘They were very pretty. I’m thinking anyone would say so.’
‘Excellent!’ He seemed genuinely pleased. ‘Tell me, are Wiggins and Smythe keeping watch over you?’
She nodded. ‘They follow me everywhere.’
‘Like spaniels!’ He grinned. ‘They are good fellows.’
She had no response and the awkward silence made her face grow hot with shame. Why could she not converse with him? He always behaved very well toward her. Even his kisses did not ask more of her than she could give.
‘By the way—’ he gave no indication that he had noticed the lapse in their conversation ‘—I can release you from your promise.’
Her heart pounded. ‘My promise?’
He winked. ‘To keep the secret I told you about. Flynn’s new employment.’
She gaped at him. ‘Flynn will work for the prince?’
‘As soon as his Highness has returned from Brighton, assuming this Greythorne business does not change matters. I told Flynn yesterday.’
Her throat felt suddenly raw. She was happy for Flynn, she told herself. He would get his greatest desire. ‘He must have been very pleased.’
He tilted his head. ‘Well, not as much as I thought he would be, but you can never tell with Flynn. Let me warn you. Never play cards with the man. He gives away nothing of what he feels.’
She could disagree. He’d shown her all too well. Briefly.
‘Flynn will go to the Prince after he returns from Ireland.’
‘Ireland?’ She sat up straighter. ‘He is going to Ireland?’
‘Wants to visit his family, I believe,’ he said. ‘Cannot fathom why he did not ask to do so before. Deuced long time to be away. I was beginning to surmise he had no family.’
Rose was suddenly homesick for Ireland herself, for its green hills and fresh air. For the lilting speech she’d sought to rid herself of, the kind of speech she and Flynn so gaily shared.
Tanner tapped his lips, looking thoughtful. ‘I wonder what the prince will think when he finds out Greythorne deceived him.’ He regarded her. ‘The Bow Street Runner discovered that Greythorne gave his Royal Highness the slip. But, then, we knew he was back in London.’
Not knowing how else to respond, she merely nodded.
His mouth fell open. ‘I do beg your pardon. I never offered my sympathy for the death of your father and his lady friend. Such a shock for you.’
‘Yes,’ was all she could say.
He took her hand, and it was all she could do to keep from pulling away. ‘I promise you, we shall find Greythorne and bring him to justice for this. You have my solemn word on it.’ He squeezed her hand in reassurance, n
othing more.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said.
He stood and gazed down at her. ‘I underestimated Greythorne, Miss O’Keefe.’ He looked genuinely regretful. ‘I am profoundly sorry for it.’
She rose, touched by his sincerity. ‘I am not blaming you, sir,’ she told him. ‘It was Greythorne who…who killed them.’
His eyes did not lose their hint of pain, and she realised that this was indeed a good man. She wished she could rejoice in his interest in her and return the affection he deserved.
He averted his gaze and made to look at his timepiece. ‘I had best be on my way.’ He started for the door, but turned back to her. ‘Flynn made all the arrangements for you to occupy the rooms tomorrow. I shall send my carriage in the afternoon, if that is to your liking.’
No, it was not to her liking, but what else could she do?
‘I shall be ready.’
He smiled. ‘Good! About three o’clock, perhaps? You will have time to get settled, then I will escort you to Vauxhall, if you like.’
She merely nodded.
He started off again, but again turned back, walking over to her. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. ‘Until then, Miss O’Keefe.’
The servants lined up in the small hallway for Flynn’s final inspection of the preparations for Rose’s arrival. Wiggins and Smythe would also join the household as Rose’s constant guards, with Bow Street Runners to relieve them.
Flynn questioned the house servants in turn, and each declared that they were ready to serve Miss O’Keefe. And ready to serve Lord Tannerton, as well.
Before turning to leave, Flynn glanced one last time up the stairway towards the bedchamber.
It was doubtful he would ever return to these rooms, now that Lord Tannerton had arranged his employment with the Duke of Clarence. Flynn could not have expected a better situation. The Prince was third in line for the throne, though the Princess Charlotte might knock her uncle down a peg when her baby was born. Still, the Duke of Clarence was much higher than Flynn had dared hope.
He ought to have whooped with excitement and clasped Tanner’s hand in a vigorous handshake when he’d heard the news. Instead, he had coolly clarified his intention to travel to Ireland first.
