Lady Beware

by Jo Beverley

  It wasn’t very far to the nearest hackney stand. She’d seen the lines of battered carriages in certain places and understood that they were for hire, but she’d never thought about exactly how. Darien stopped by the first in line and handed Harriet into it, then spoke to the driver and gave him money. Harriet was carried away, but not without a strong look at Thea saying, Be careful!

  Darien assisted Thea into the next one, which was a much sorrier affair. The seat sagged so badly Thea worried she’d fall through, and the straw on the floor was dirty.

  “I’m sorry,” Darien said, taking the opposite seat as it lurched off, “but if one doesn’t take the next in line, there’ll be a riot.”

  “It’s all right,” she said. “And if it’s not, this is my problem, not yours.”

  “Any problem of yours is mine,” he said simply.

  Their situation was uncertain and Maddy was being a pest, but here in this unpleasant vehicle Thea felt in a perfect moment, simply because she was alone with Darien. Of course being alone with him was a scandal on its own, though she’d never understood why closed carriages were supposed to be such dens of wickedness. It would take acrobatics to even kiss in this one, especially with it rattling her bones over cobbles and swaying madly when going around corners.

  She suddenly giggled.

  “What’s amusing?” he asked, clutching a leather strap, but his eyes gleamed with humor.

  “Oh, everything. Why the gilding?” There were traces of gold paint on the inside panels.

  “Most hacks are retired gentlemen’s carriages. This one must have been grand once—a very long time ago.”

  “I wonder what stories it could tell.”

  They fell silent, but it was a good silence. The coach lurched to a halt, springs groaning, and Darien handed Thea out in front of a timbered inn. The sign above the door read THE CROWN AND MAGPIE and held a picture of a magpie with a crown in its beak. A thieving bird, but it seemed a solid, respectable hostelry.

  Thea had never entered a London inn before, but when she did so, it seemed little different to the ones she’d stayed at on a journey. A frock-coated man came forward to welcome them.

  “Captain Foxstall,” Darien said. “Which room?”

  The stocky, red-faced man pursed his lips. “Perhaps I may have your card sent up, sir?”

  “No.” A guinea changed hands.

  “Number six, sir. Upstairs and to the right.”

  They went up, but at the top of the stairs Darien touched Thea’s arm. “Are you sure you want to be there? If your cousin’s with Foxstall, she might not welcome interference.”

  “She probably won’t, but I have to be there. In case…”

  “If he’s harmed her I’ll kill him for you.”

  She gripped his arm. “No. No violence.”

  “There are times for violence.”

  It was still an issue between them, but this wasn’t the time or place to attempt to deal with it. “Then with the minimum of violence. Please.”

  “It will always be as you command.”

  He turned and approached the door painted with a six and she hurried after. She didn’t hear any voices beyond it. Surely the innkeeper had implied Foxstall was in. If Maddy wasn’t here with him, where was she?

  Darien raised his hand to knock, but then instead he turned the handle and walked in.

  Thea swallowed a protest, but in any case they entered a comfortable but empty private parlor. Thea heard voices now, from beyond an adjoining door. This was hers to do, so she walked forward and opened it—to freeze, gaping.

  In a big, rumpled bed, Maddy and Foxstall were lounging and laughing. As best Thea could see, both were naked. Laughter froze as she had frozen, and Maddy pulled the sheet up over her breasts, red-faced. Then her brows rose, and she smirked.

  Darien grasped Thea’s arm and pulled her back, but she twisted free and surged forward. “Maddy! Are you mad?”

  Her cousin’s laugh peeled out. “Puns, Thea? At a time like this? Oh, wipe that sanctimonious horror off your face. If you’d done as I asked, you’d not be here to be upset.”

  Thea swayed. An arm came around her, a strong body supported her. She couldn’t stop staring at Maddy, and at Foxstall’s knobby, muscled shoulders and chest heavy with hair. He grinned, looking demonic with that twisted jaw. Which wasn’t a noble war wound….

  “You needn’t look so very shocked, coz,” Maddy said, turning slightly to snuggle against Foxstall’s bare shoulder. “You must have guessed or why rush over here?”

  “I thought you might be eloping…Maddy, I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

  “It’s already done.”

  Thea feared she might be sick. “I mean marry him,” she said.

  “And how are you going to stop me? Tell the world?”

  “Tell your father and mine.”

  “Who’ll insist we marry, if not immediately, as soon as I get with child. That’s what I want. What a fool you are, Thea.”

  She was. She’d never imagined that Maddy would cold-bloodedly plan something like this, but it was disastrous. She was sure of it. The man himself proved it. There was no tenderness in his expression, only sneering triumph. He showed not a trace of protective concern for the young woman he’d just despoiled.

  “I won’t let you do this,” Thea cried, to him as much as to Maddy. “If you wed, I’ll make sure Uncle Arthur ties up your dowry with strings so tight that Foxstall never has free use of it. Never.”

  “Bitch,” Foxstall spat.

  Darien stiffened, but he said, “Come away, Thea. There’s nothing to be done here.”

  But Thea couldn’t. “Look at him, Maddy. Look at him. He doesn’t want you on those terms.”

  Maddy turned, but Thea rushed on.

  “He’ll be a horrible husband. He’s all lies and cheats. Even his noble war wound’s a lie, and he’s been sleeping with dozens of other women in London while pretending to woo you. He won’t change. He’s rotten, and will always be so.”

  “Fox?” Maddy said, her voice small.

  Foxstall, however, was looking at Thea with flat malice in his eyes.

  “Fox, don’t worry. I don’t believe her.”

  He looked down and then pushed Maddy away. “The game’s up, Maddy, so on your way. With your cousin stirring up your family, we’ll never have a feather to fly with.”

  “That’s not true! My portion’s large—”

  “Not large enough for me.”

  “Once we’re married, my parents will come around. Don’t listen to her!”

  “Are you going to be boring?” he asked. “She’s right about the other women, the sanctimonious prig. I’m not a man to be satisfied by a virgin’s teasing for weeks.”

  Maddy gasped and then scrambled off the bed, clutching the counterpane around her. “You cur, you lout!”

  She grabbed and hurled a water glass, a bowl, and then the candlestick. The latter hit him, but her throw was weak and he blocked it with his arm, laughing.

  “You’ll suffer for this, Foxstall,” Maddy hissed. “I’ll crush you, I’ll ruin you….”

  But then she turned and hurled herself against Darien’s chest. He had no choice but to let go of Thea and catch her. He drew her away, into the other room, saying to Thea, “Come.”

  But Maddy’s clothing was scattered around the room, so Thea scurried around gathering it. She wished she didn’t have to look at Foxstall, but she did, sensing he was like a feral animal, keen to kill. She stumbled over his scabbarded saber and was tempted to seize it, draw it, for protection.

  When she was sure she’d collected everything, she backed out, clutching the clothes in front of her.

  “You’ll pay for this,” he said, lips twisted as always, but perhaps truly smiling in a horrid, malicious way. “Silver feathers. How much are they worth in London these days?”

  Acid rose in Thea’s throat, but she met his eyes. “Not one penny,” she mouthed. Darien mustn’t hear or murder would b
e done. “I’d rather walk the streets in penitential sackcloth and ashes.”

  Then she shut the door between them. It took a moment to gather herself and turn to where Maddy was still in Darien’s arms, clinging, weeping, and wailing about wickedness and betrayal.

  “Oh, stop it,” Thea said, dragging her cousin away. “You may have been betrayed about some things, but you came here of your own free will with this wickedness in mind.”

  Maddy turned on her, clutching the counterpane. “What do you know of passion, you cold fish?”

  “Silver feathers?” Thea replied tartly.

  “I don’t believe that. I never believed that. You’ve always been jealous of me. Always!”

  Darien put his hand over her mouth. “You said she’d make a scene.”

  Maddy was goggle-eyed, but she couldn’t get free without dropping the counterpane, and even she balked at that.

  “I’d go into the hall while she dressed,” Darien said, “but I don’t trust Foxstall. So I’ll station myself watching that door.” He let Maddy go and did so, watching the door to the silent bedroom most conscientiously.

  Maddy, for the moment, seemed speechless, and Thea wondered if this terrible event had finally shocked some sense into her.

  But then she recovered and dropped her cover, brashly revealing bountiful hips and breasts, and a remarkably slender waist. Her deep pink nipples jutted. “Ripe” was the word that came to mind, in look and odor. Perfume, sweat, and that something else rose off her. Thea almost gagged.

  “Yes, look,” Maddy mouthed. “You’ll never know.”

  “Silver feathers,” Thea mouthed back, handing over Maddy’s shift.

  This was petty, but she was so furious she couldn’t stop herself. But, oh God, what would Foxstall do, and what should she do to prevent it?

  As she played maid her mind spun around it, always lurching back to Darien. Darien would silence Foxstall. Darien would kill him if she asked. A duel. But that would ruin his hard-won reclamation. If he killed Foxstall, he might have to flee the country.

  And what if Foxstall killed Darien? He had to be a formidable fighter.

  When Maddy was wrapped in the propriety of expensive fashionable clothing she looked her usual self. No tears, no shame. If she was brokenhearted, she was hiding it well. Was she at all concerned about the risk of a child? Thea didn’t know this Maddy at all, but her heart ached. What would become of her now?

  Maddy paused, looking at the door Darien guarded, and something rippled over her face. Only for a moment, however. “I’m dressed,” she said, “so we can be off.”

  Darien went to open the door to the corridor. Thea and Maddy went through and down the stairs, Maddy flicking down some veiling from her elaborate hat and thus covering her face. Thea had done nothing wrong, but she blushed as they left the inn, feeling every eye upon her. A hackney happened to be nearby, and Darien summoned it.

  Once in the coach, Maddy said, “Well, what’s the sentence? Do I hang?”

  “If you’ve given up Foxstall, I see no need to tell anyone,” Thea said.

  “But what if I’m with child?” It was tossed as a challenge. “What do I do if I can’t marry the father?”

  “You should have thought of that.”

  “I did!” Maddy snapped. “That was the idea, and now you’ve ruined everything. I wish I’d never involved you.”

  “So do I.”

  “Where shall we go?” Darien asked calmly enough, but Thea could feel his tension. She knew he burned to go back to the inn and fight Foxstall, but she’d made him promise to avoid violence. Should she release him? Let loose the dogs of war, she remembered.

  “Back to the bookstore, I suppose,” she said, “where my carriage should return soon.”

  They traveled in silence and found the Yeovil carriage waiting. They changed into it and rode the short distance to Maddy’s house.

  Aunt Margaret appeared anxiously at the door. “Oh, you’re back safely! But no books, dearest?”

  “They had nothing suitable,” Maddy said, completely in her normal manner. “But we acquired Lord Darien as escort. Isn’t that delightful?”

  “Of course,” Aunt Margaret said, but doubtfully. Clearly she was one of the unconvinced. “Do come in. Tea, perhaps….”

  “No, I really must get home,” Thea said. “Good day, Aunt, Maddy.” Thea sent her cousin a smiling wave. Behind her mother’s back, Maddy pulled a face.

  Thea returned to the carriage with Darien. “I suppose now we should go and find Harriet.”

  He gave the direction and the carriage moved off, so much more smoothly than a hackney, but nothing was smooth anymore. A tear escaped.

  “Don’t,” Darien said softly. “Don’t weep for her. She’s…”

  She’s not worth it.

  “She’s the closest to a sister I have,” she choked out. “What am I to do for her?”

  “Sometimes there’s nothing you can do. But I can get rid of Foxstall.”

  “No. No violence.”

  “Thea, I can’t let this stand.”

  “Because of the feathers?” she asked, looking into his resolute eyes. “But Maddy knows, too. Silencing him won’t solve anything.”

  “You really think she’ll betray you?” He sounded shocked.

  “I hope not, but…”

  He sighed. “Listen, she can’t do anything without risking exposure, whereas Foxstall won’t care. And he smashes things out of spite.”

  “He might smash you.”

  “No,” he said flatly.

  “You can’t be sure of that! I can’t bear the thought of you dead. Or of you killing him.”

  He brushed his knuckles down her damp cheek. “I know. But I must destroy Foxstall, for what he did to your cousin and for the threat he holds over you.”

  “What does it matter?” Thea asked, trying for a Maddy tone. “We’ll simply have to marry. Will that be so bad?”

  He smiled slightly, but without softening. “Yes. Do you imagine that I’d allow you to face scandal and shame when I can prevent it?”

  Tears were pouring now, and not graciously. She pulled out a handkerchief and tried to stop the flow. “But we deserve scandal and shame. We did much the same. Why should anyone die over this?”

  “He’s not going to die for taking your cousin to his bed.”

  “What if you die?” she cried.

  He simply drew her into his arms and rocked her, gentle but implacable.

  The carriage stopped outside Westminster Abbey. They parted, but neither of them moved to get out. Ignoring the liveried footman who’d appeared outside the door ready to open it, Darien took out a handkerchief of his own and wiped away her tears.

  “This is like a battle,” he said. “Some wives wept and the truly weak even begged their men not to go. Tears can never change duty, only make it harder. Please, Thea, don’t weep.”

  She blew her nose. “That’s not fair. I want to change things.”

  “You can’t.”

  “You put yourself at my command,” she reminded him.

  “No longer.”

  She knew he wanted to kiss her, but with the footman there, even standing statue-still and looking away, he couldn’t.

  “If I return to you with his blood on my hands, what will you do?”

  She wanted to say that it wouldn’t matter, that it couldn’t touch her love, but at a moment like this, she could only give him the truth. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 35

  Darien delivered Thea and her tight-lipped maid back to Yeovil House, but left before the duchess could appear. He returned to the Crown and Magpie as quickly as possible, but found Foxstall had already cleared out for good. The innkeeper had no idea where he’d moved to, only that he’d left shortly after Darien and the ladies, but not seeming to be in a hurry.

  Darien considered a search of London, but if Foxstall wanted to keep out of sight, he would. Unless the search was widespread. The Rogues? They seemed to have a netwo
rk of useful servants and others.

  He went to Delaney’s house but found they’d finally left Town. The nearest alternative was Stephen Ball’s place. He was out of Town, too, as was Arden. So much for the Rogues’ support.

  Darien went to Van’s. “At least you’re here,” he growled.

  “There’s a gathering of Rogues at Marlowe in Nottingham. Do you really still need nursemaids?”

  “Be careful,” Darien snapped, and Van’s brows went up.

  “What’s happened?”

  Darien couldn’t tell anyone the details, but he said, “Foxstall’s crossed the line. I need to deal with him, but he’s made himself scarce.”

  “I did warn you about him.”

  “You were right. Set the word around, will you, that if anyone sees him, I need to know.”

  “Very well. Are you still coming to Rathbone’s tonight?”

  A card party. “Give my excuses. I wouldn’t be good company.”

  Darien spent the next two days hunting Foxstall without success. He avoided Thea, but he did write her a vaguely worded reassurance that all would be well, hoping he could keep that promise. As part of that, he visited Lady Harroving.

  The lady was far too interested in him for comfort, but by engaging in some flattery and flirtation, he discovered that she saw no connection between Thea and the feathers. Certainly someone had been naughty in her linen room, and feathers had been found there, but a little teasing conversation had proved his reassurance to Thea correct. Lady Harroving’s servants knew that gossip about the goings-on during the masquerade meant instant dismissal without a character.

  The lady made no secret of her association with Foxstall and revealed how he might know all. The feathers had been lying around her boudoir when Foxstall visited her and she’d told him where they’d been found. She hinted that they’d been used in some sort of love play and could be again. Darien had eased out of her presence, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  There was still danger, however. The fight had placed Thea close to the linen room. A large enough bribe would loosen the servant’s tongue. If Foxstall put it all together and waved it in the world’s face, it would be undeniable. Therefore, he had to be stopped.