She hadn’t, although now that she thought about it, she might have noticed him a couple times smoking a pipe at a corner somewhere.
“He’s been trailing you for the last few days,” Papa continued. “You should have told me that you were attacked. It’s not the sort of thing a man wants to find out from a Bow Street Runner.”
Irene blinked. “It was just a footpad,” she said softly, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.
Mr. Tanner had his hat in his hand, and he dipped his head when he spoke. “Begging your pardon, Lady Irene, but it weren’t just a footpad, and so I’ve been hired to watch you when the others can’t.”
She frowned, thinking back as she put the sequence in order. After all, the men had set up a watch just last night at the party. But he’d said he’d been watching her for a couple days now.
“When were you hired?”
“Samuel—Mr. Morrison, that is—put me on a couple days ago. Spoke here with your papa immediately, and we’ve been keeping an eye out. But miss, I think it’s time you understood things a little better. You’re in danger, Lady Irene, and I don’t like you taking up with strange children nobody knows or going about your day into the docks. It’s too hard to watch you.”
“Strange children? What are you talking about? And how do you know about my day?”
At which point Mama suddenly gasped, flattening her hand against her mouth in a cry of guilt. Everyone turned, and she immediately dropped her hand. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot! There’s a girl in the kitchen. Scrawny thing, half starved. Very polite, and not that bright. Sent here from St. Clement’s. Said Father Michael sent her as your servant.”
“Carol!” Irene gasped. She’d forgotten all about the girl she’d hired to be her secretary.
Meanwhile, Mama looked to the copper. “She’s done no harm. Just sat in the kitchen. Do you really think that poor little thing is a danger?”
The man shook his head, his jowls quivering enough to make him look like a bulldog. “Easy enough to check her credentials, but it makes my job harder, you see. We all want Lady Irene kept safe.”
Irene swallowed, her mind spinning. “This is unreal,” she murmured. “It was a footpad.”
Which, of course, was a flat out lie. After all, hadn’t they just spent the last two days suspecting Grant’s brother of murderous intent? But it was only one frightening incident. Or perhaps two. Over a period of months. She had lived for so long convincing herself that her vague fears were a product of her imagination that having her family suddenly take them seriously made her question her own sanity. What if they were making such a huge fuss over nothing?
“It’s a frightening thing, to be sure, Lady Irene. But we’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“We?” she murmured.
Papa straightened up. “I’ve brought in a few men—sailors I’ve known for years—to serve as footmen around the house. Hired them months ago, actually, when you first said someone was following you. Had some nasty business with some sailors then, and I thought it prudent. For all of us.”
She blinked. So he had taken her concerns seriously? Months ago?
“And you’re not to go to the docks,” continued her father-in-law. “I know you think your job is important—”
“I need to go there! That’s where the cargo is! That’s where the deals are made.”
Papa nodded, his expression grim. “It’s too dangerous,” he said flatly. “And I should never have let you take that ridiculous job. You’re a lady, Irene. The daughter of an earl and my son’s wife. Ridiculous to have you gadding about like any tinker’s get.”
Irene set down her teacup, straightening slowly out of her seat. Still at the table, her mother-in-law released a heavy sigh. “Don’t be upset, dear. He’s just frightened for you. We all are.”
She knew that. She was frightened too. But she couldn’t live her life as if someone were about to kill her. Didn’t they understand how easy it would be for her to take to her bed again? To crawl under the covers and never come out? She didn’t care if there were armed assailants right outside her door. If she allowed herself the smallest bit of fear, then she would collapse.
“And what about the balls?” she asked, her mouth latching onto the least of her concerns. “Am I to be locked inside the house forever?”
Mr. Tanner shifted his feet nervously. “I can’t say I like it, but Lord Crowle said he would be with you every second. Then there’s the other gents keeping an eye out. He wants you to live yer life—going to parties and the like—”
“And the docks? I have a meeting this afternoon. The Singing Lady came in yesterday. I’m to meet with its captain about some silks.”
“That can wait—” grumbled her Papa, but Irene was already shaking her head.
“It cannot wait as the shop is in desperate need of those silks.”
Mr. Tanner dipped his head. “I already knew about the shipment, my lady.”
“What?”
“Apologies, but you don’t keep your schedule secret. I found out about it from your Papa. I’d guessed you’d want to go no matter what he said—”
“You are correct in that.”
“So Lord Crowle and I are going with you. Keep an eye out, fetch and carry, and the like—”
“You can have a few of my men too,” interjected Papa.
“But we all thought it prudent that you stop doing business like this. Just until the danger’s past.”
“But we don’t really know that there is danger.”
Silence met her statement, long and pointed. Not surprising, given that even she’d grown weary of her own denials. But it was the only way she kept the fear from strangling her.
She pushed up from her seat. “For the moment, I will see this child in the kitchen. Then we will go on to The Singing Lady.”
“And don’t forget,” inserted Mama. “Lord Crowle is coming to take you driving in Hyde Park this afternoon.”
Irene stared at her mother-in-law. “What?”
The woman colored. “Oh, did I forget that too? The messenger said that most specifically when he brought the flowers. Lord Crowle hopes you haven’t forgotten your appointment to walk this afternoon in Hyde Park.”
Mr. Tanner’s heavy sigh echoed through the room. “Just makes me job harder.”
Irene blinked. “You can’t possibly think someone would attack in the middle of Hyde Park?”
“Probably not,” he answered. “But I’ll be speaking with Lord Crowle about the details.”
He wasn’t the only one who would be speaking to Lord Crowle. Meanwhile, Irene turned to the kitchen. It was time to meet her new urchin assistant. Sadly, she was followed by her in-laws and Mr. Tanner. At least she gestured them to stay in the background as she pushed into the kitchen.
The child was indeed Carol, the girl she’d met so many days ago at St. Clement’s Church. She was scrawny with dark plaited hair and large brown eyes. She sat at the main kitchen worktable, her plate empty and her eyes drowsy from what was probably her first real meal in days. But when Irene caught her attention, the girl abruptly leaped to her feet and performed an awkward curtsy. Then she gripped her hands together and kept her head tilted down. Yet as downcast as her body’s attitude was, her eyes were alive and constantly moving, as if she couldn’t quite trust her surroundings.
Irene pulled out a chair and sat in front of the girl. “Hello Carol. Is your mother feeling better then?”
“Yes, my lady. Her cough is nearly gone now, and so I were free to come work for you.”
Irene glanced at Mr. Tanner. “This is Carol Owen. I met her a few days back at St. Clement’s, and I promised her a job.” She looked to the girl, who nodded sagely as she passed an envelope to Irene.
“It’s from Father Michael,” the girl said quietly. “I passed his tests. I know my sums and can read. My memory is excellent, and… and I’m stronger than I look.”
Irene smiled as she scanned the contents of Father Michael’s le
tter. It was exactly as Carol said, except for the strong part. The poor thing was much too tiny. She was on the verge of accepting the girl when Mr. Tanner stepped forward.
“If I may, my lady?”
Irene nodded and stepped back as the runner frowned at the girl. He looked rather forbidding, which she supposed was the point. The girl held her ground, her own gaze steady, but Irene couldn’t tell if she were brave or terrified into stillness.
“You understand that many a boy could have this position. You’re lucky Lady Irene has such an open mind.” His tone indicated that he thought Irene mad, but it wasn’t his place to argue.
“Yes, sir,” the girl whispered.
“You know that your loyalty is to her and her alone. You do what she asks, when she asks, no questions.”
“Y-yes, sir.” The girl’s stammer didn’t indicate fear, but a ready understanding of the question and some of the consequences. After all, the girl didn’t really know Irene. What if Irene told her to do something illegal or dangerous? What then? It was a measure of her desperation that made the child agree without argument.
“And if you see something wrong, something that don’t sit well, you will report it to me immediately.”
The girl frowned, but nodded, her words quiet. “Yes, sir.”
Meanwhile, Irene found that she’d had enough. Tapping the runner on the shoulder, she stepped forward. “I believe that’s sufficient, Mr. Tanner. I find I like Carol just fine. And as I have a busy day ahead, I suggest we start immediately.” Especially since she had slept much too late. “Cook, will you please pack us a small basket? I’m afraid I won’t have time to stop for a meal, and I wouldn’t want my…” She all but rolled her eyes at the people surrounding her. “My retinue to get hungry.”
Mr. Tanner caught her meaning, his mouth flattening into a straight line, but he knew better than to say anything. So with a nod, she dashed upstairs. It was silly really. She rarely worried about her appearance when she left to negotiate with a ship’s captain. Her regular practical attire was more than adequate.
But she would be negotiating with Grant beside her, and that called for extra care. She tried to quell the excitement in her breast, the heated flush to her cheeks, and the bubbly feelings that kept trying to burst free in inappropriate giggles. She couldn’t, and soon her maid was looking at her with raised eyebrows and a question.
“It’s nothing,” she said, speaking more to herself than to Anna.
“It’s Lord Crowle, isn’t it?”
Irene paused, biting her lip as she met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. “Do you think it’s too soon?” she asked quietly.
“I think it’s past time,” returned the woman with feeling. “But mind you be looking for a ring, not a just a tumble, my lady.”
Irene swallowed. It was too late for that, she realized, her gaze canting down. “I am not the sort of woman Lord Crowle would marry. He has responsibilities to his title, and I do not fit what he needs.”
Anna sighed as she touched a dash of rouge to Irene’s cheeks. “Then send him packing, my lady, and find a man who has a ring for you.”
Irene sighed and nodded. Prudent advice from a smart woman. And yet, couldn’t she enjoy herself just a bit longer? Be with a man she adored for a few weeks more?
“Well, I’m stuck with him for the moment,” she said softly. And, of all the things that bothered her about the current situation, Grant was the one complication she couldn’t regret.
“Don’t worry, my lady,” Anna said gently. “They’ll find the madman soon enough. Then you’ll be free to find a husband.”
Irene nodded. She didn’t say what she feared most was that she’d never be free of Grant. Her heart was already too entangled. So much so that, when he finally left to fulfill his obligations to his title, she could be destroyed. Completely and utterly destroyed. And no amount of work would bring her back to life again.
Twenty-one
Grant was barely out of bed when he got the message from Mr. Tanner about Irene’s plans. Apparently, she didn’t have the constitution to lie abed like a bored society matron. He rather liked that about her. If he hadn’t been tossing and turning all night—dreaming about her—then he probably would have been up earlier as well. After five years of living by the dictates of the mill, he often found himself awake and alert much too early for any of his London friends. But as he now had no mill doors to open, no ledgers to oversee, and no fabric to inspect, he found himself lingering in bed to no purpose whatsoever.
He’d never known how much he valued being forced to rise until he was back in London with nothing but time on his hands. Thank God he had Irene to occupy his thoughts. Otherwise, he might very well go mad.
He paused a moment, waiting for a wry comment from his madness, but no words filtered through his thoughts. He might have paused to wonder about that, but he had precious little time to get to the docks. So he rushed through his morning—er, afternoon—ablutions and quickly headed out.
He found them at The Singing Lady and was pleasantly surprised by the retinue that followed Irene. She was dressed in one of her hideous black gowns. It was sturdy and practical, but did little to disguise the quality of the fabric or the cut of the fashionable gown. He guessed that everyone on the docks knew her by name. After all, how many fashionable widows frequented the area? So if she could not work in anonymity, at least she had a retinue of two footmen, Mr. Tanner, and a young girl.
They were just boarding the tiny rowboat that would take her to the ship when Grant slipped in beside Mr. Tanner. They managed only the barest conversation before Irene noted his presence.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened on a slight gasp of surprise. He was watching her closely, wishing her bonnet didn’t shade her face from his gaze. He would have loved to see the sun on her pink cheeks. Still, despite the shadows, he was able to see her face brighten at the sight of him… and then shutter into a grimace of annoyance. As if she’d remembered she was irritated with him.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and she pointedly looked at Mr. Tanner then the two footmen. Ah, so she was angry about her protection and obviously blamed him for the necessity. He folded his arms and leaned against the edge of the boat, showing her that he would not feel guilty for ensuring her protection.
The message was understood as she flashed him another grimace. In truth, he half expected her to stick her tongue out, but she didn’t. Though in his mind’s eye, he saw the flash of her pink tongue, and everything in him hardened at the imagined thought. Ridiculous that he could grow lustful from his own imagination, but then again, after the torment of his dreams, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Then an impish thought caught him, and he looked to Irene.
She was still glowering, so it was easy enough to slowly, seductively lick his own lips. Her eyes widened, and her face flamed. Even in the shadow of her bonnet, he could see the red on her cheeks and the way she bit her lower lip. She was too heavily dressed to see if her nipples reacted, but he would bet his last penny that they had. And when she looked back up—peering almost shyly from beneath her bonnet—he knew he’d been right. She’d been tormented as much as he had last night. And that knowledge cheered him immensely.
Then there was no more time for their silent game of tease because they arrived at the boat. They climbed on board, the footmen fanning out quickly, their rolling gait telling Grant these were former sailors. Mr. Tanner kept to a position near and a little to the left of Irene, his gaze taking in everything. Grant took his position behind Irene’s right shoulder. It all happened like clockwork, and he was pleased by the result. Even the captain—a grizzled man with a full beard and steady eyes in his weathered face—watched everything before giving a quiet nod of approval.
The only one who seemed discomforted by the group was Irene herself, and perhaps, the little girl at her side.
“Good afternoon, Captain Haverson,” she said quietly.
The man gave her a polite bow then nodded at her f
ollowing. “Good to see, Lady Irene,” he said heartily. “Good to see.”
For her part, Irene released a huff of annoyance. “I assure you, it is not good in any way at all, but it appears I have little choice in the matter.”
“Begging your pardon, my lady,” the man said, “but aside from the dangers to any woman on the docks, your father has enemies. It’s past time he saw to your protection.”
Grant hadn’t meant to intrude on Irene’s negotiations, but this conversation wasn’t about silks or ivory buttons. This was about Irene’s safety, and so he took a step forward.
“Excuse me, Captain. My name’s Mr. Grant, and I’m keeping an eye on Lady Irene. If you could explain… please? What dangers—specifically—should we be watching for?”
The Captain narrowed his eyes, looking Grant up and down. What he saw must have agreed with him, because in the end, he gave a curt nod. “Mr. Knopp’s a fair man and a good employer, but he don’t tolerate laze-abouts or lack wits. And he’s downright murderous toward thieves.”
Grant nodded. “Anyone in particular that you’re thinking of?”
He grimaced. “I could give you names of a few I know—sailors who have a temper and a belief that their troubles are laid at Mr. Knopp’s door. But I’m only one captain out of a whole fleet. There’s bound to be a dozen or more names that I don’t know.”
“Your list would be a start.”
The man pursed his lips as he thought. Ten minutes later, Grant had memorized the five names he’d been given, along with the best way to locate the men. A quick glance at Mr. Tanner showed that he’d done the same. Then it was time for Irene’s business.
They went down to the hold—minus two footmen remaining above to guard their way—and Irene began a steady inspection of the merchandise that the captain had reserved for her. It was then that Grant got to enjoy Irene at her most mercenary, and the experience was a memorable one.
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