How to Be a Proper Lady

by Katharine Ashe

  “Do you expect me to know you?”

  “No. But I know you, Mr. Smythe. Or should I say, Pharaoh?” He grinned smugly. “You bought a girl off a bloke I was working for a few years back. Pretty little girl, that one. A real screamer, too. Have some fun with her, then, did you?”

  “Have you brought the casket?”

  The sailor straightened. “Well, now don’t be getting all high and mighty with old Muskrat. Can’t blame a fellow for trying to make a bit of friendly conversation afore transacting business, like.”

  “Your brother agreed to my price. Produce the casket now and I will give you the gold.”

  Muskrat rubbed his ragged whiskers and looked thoughtful a moment. “Now here’s my problem, Mr. Smythe: Hole, he ain’t no genius. I got me all the brains in the family, you see.” He tapped a fingertip to his hat. “And I been needing a little task taken care of that I- Well, you see, Mr. Smythe, old Muskrat just don’t have the heart for it.” He shook his head sorrowfully.

  “I haven’t time for theatrics. What do you want?”

  “You see, I got me a little problem I need out of the way.” He wrinkled his brow. “As in dead out of the way. You see.” The wind picked up for an instant, pressing the overcoat against the bulge beneath his arm. “I heard you was partic’arly good at getting little problems dead.”

  “I am no longer in that line of work. I have, in fact, come to this meeting unarmed.” It felt remarkably good to admit that. Insanely imprudent, too. But perhaps she was having an even greater effect on him than he knew.

  “You don’t say?” Muskrat scratched his chin again. Then he pointed up the dock to the base of the gangway of Jin’s ship where a boy sat with a lantern. “That’s Mickey. Me and Hole’s youngest brother. Now, Mr. Smythe, Mickey there is going to take you to the place I know that little problem is guzzling gin right now, you see. Then you’re going to take care of my problem, and when you’re finished, old Muskrat will be waiting right here for you with that box. What do you say to that?”

  “I say you haven’t any idea with whom you are dealing.”

  Muskrat’s face pinched. “They said as you was a tough one.”

  “They said right.”

  “Also said you ain’t hurt a fly in years. But I thought if you was properly motivated…”

  “On that account, they were wrong. I may no longer be in that line of work, but a man may do anything for simple amusement.” Merely suggesting it wouldn’t damn him. “Properly motivated, of course. Give me the casket, Muskrat. Now.”

  “My soul,” the sailor cooed. “The mighty Pharaoh’s asking me favors, without even a pistol or knife on him, eh?”

  “But I do have my bare hands. Give me the box and you needn’t have concern over that soul quite yet.”

  Muskrat narrowed his eyes. Then his gaze flickered to the side, and widened. The boy leaped up, the lantern jiggling light across the dock’s shadowed planks, his gaze fixed over Jin’s shoulder as well.

  “Well, I’ll be. Looks like an angel coming my way.” Muskrat wiggled his brows. “Guess it’s old Muskrat’s lucky day.”

  “Not today, I am afraid.” Viola’s satin voice came just behind Jin; then she appeared at his side. “Now, what have I missed?” She wore a gown of spring green, a delicate shawl and gloves, and her hair was swept up beneath a neat little hat. She lacked only a parasol to be fit for a stroll in the park. Jin had never seen anything so beautiful and his heart had never beaten so hard.

  “You were not invited to this meeting, madam,” he said as evenly as he could. “I suggest you retire from it now.”

  “Oh, phooey.” Her dark gaze darted between them. “By the by, the bishop is hopping mad. You should have seen him storm into the house this morning demanding justice. It seems he went to Newgate and, discovering your absence there, decided to accuse Alex of disloyalty to both church and crown.” Her lips curved into a grin of perfect pleasure. “Alex pretended he’d never seen the bishop before, when they had spoken mere hours earlier in the middle of the night! I had no idea my brother-in-law was such a proficient actor. Or you, for that matter.” She slanted him an acute look. “In any case, when Alex insisted that I had spent the entire night tending our dear old maiden aunt at her deathbed, the bishop turned six different shades of red. He left believing himself quite addled. It was all remarkably great fun.”

  “Do not tell me you came here alone.”

  “I must! For I did. I did not wish to involve Billy, Mattie, and Matouba, not after last night, so I didn’t tell them I bribed Mr. Pecker to tell me everything. What good fortune that he actually had something of worth to tell me, all about your meeting right here with his brother, Muskrat. And Hole, can you imagine? I think their mother must have been a very peculiar person. But then I worried I would not arrive on time. Am I on time?”

  “Violet, leave.”

  “No. I am here to help.”

  “Can you not stay out of anything, woman?”

  “Probably not.” She reached into a pocket and produced a dagger. “Here. Billy said they commandeered your weapons at the prison, so I brought this.”

  Muskrat drew back his coat to reveal the butt of a firearm stuffed into his trousers. “And I brought me my pistol. We can have us a nice party now.”

  She set her hand on her sweetly curved hip. “Pistol or no, give him the box or he will kill you for it.”

  “Got your fancy piece doing your work for you now, Pharaoh? P’raps you have turned over a new leaf.” He winked at her.

  “Miss Daly,” Jin said in a low voice, “it is now high time that you depart.”

  “I am not his fancy piece, whatever that is. I am the daughter of a lord, the Baron of Carlyle, and I will get you in a lot of trouble if you do not give him that box this very instant.”

  Muskrat scoffed. “If you’re a baron’s daughter, then I’m Bonnie Prince Charlie.”

  “Well then, it is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She curtsied prettily. “Now give him the box.”

  He looked skeptical. “If your da is Carlyle, why did the Pharaoh here call you Daly?”

  “Anybody knows that a man’s surname may not be the same as his title, you ignoramus. But mine does happen to be Carlyle. Mr. Seton called me Daly to protect my identity. But since I don’t care about that anyway, it’s all well and good.”

  “Viola, this is not helping,” Jin muttered.

  “Of course it is. Can’t you see he is already starting to cave?”

  “I admit to not yet having noticed that.”

  “Well, your powers of observation are clearly less keen than mine.”

  “Not concerning some matters.”

  Muskrat’s gaze was flickering back and forth between them.

  “You mean Aidan and his strong desire for impressive social connections? Which I figured out finally.”

  “I wondered if you would.”

  “He is not a bad man. Not as bad as you certainly. Rather, uncomplicated. Again, unlike you.”

  Muskrat shot a snickering leer at Jin.

  “Must we do this here and now, Viola?”

  “You introduced the topic into conversation.”

  “She got you there, Pharaoh.”

  Viola shrugged. “Sometimes he’s not very bright, it’s true.”

  Turning away with rolled eyes, Jin took an obviously frustrated breath, and-so swiftly Viola barely saw it happen-swung at Muskrat. The man went down hard to the boards. Jin didn’t give him a moment to recover but fisted his neck cloth and twisted it tight. Muskrat struggled, swinging back and coughing, and the casket tumbled out from beneath his overcoat. Viola leaped for it, but his arms and legs flailed in her way. A boy darted in, grabbed the box, and bolted.

  “Jin, the casket! That boy has it!”

  The lad ran, his little arms barely able to hold the box and his lantern at once, down the dock and to the next gangway. He turned to look back, tripped on the gangplank, and casket and lantern flew-the casket into the Th
ames, the lantern onto the deck of the closest vessel, where it shattered. In a flash, fire licked across the deck, following the lamp oil.

  Viola’s hands slapped over her mouth. “Holy Mother Mary. Isn’t that your ship, Jin?”

  Muskrat’s eyes were saucers. “You can have your box, Smythe.” He bolted, the boy chasing after, pushing through men running toward the deck on fire.

  Viola rushed forward, but by the time she reached the gangway the flames were already doused and black smoke curled from the steaming planking. Dockworkers and sailors carrying charred cloths disembarked. Several glanced at Jin and tugged their hats respectfully before moving off.

  Viola gaped in a terribly unladylike fashion as he came to her side. “I think it is a very good thing I had no idea who you really were when you appeared on that dock in Boston demanding I give you work. As it was, I was enormously impressed with myself for gaining the attention of the notorious Pharaoh. But if I had known the entire truth I would have been terrified to even speak with such an exalted personage.”

  “Then I am very glad you did not know the entire truth.”

  Gathering courage, finally she looked up at him. His gaze shone in the failing light.

  Her hands flew to her mouth again. “The casket! Oh, Jin, I am so sorry,” she groaned. “It’s gone.”

  “I don’t want it. I don’t need it any longer.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You don’t? But I thought-”

  He shook his head.

  She fisted her hands. “Then what do you need?”

  “You.” His gaze consumed her. “I need you. Viola, I need you.”

  “You are repeating. You are trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?”

  “You are an impossible woman. I am declaring my love to you and still you quarrel with me.”

  “Well if you had mentioned the love part right away I might not have-”

  He halted her speech with the most beautiful kiss any woman had ever gotten, she was certain. They both became quite breathless.

  Abruptly, he thrust her to arm’s length. Shabby treatment, as always, but she didn’t care. And a lump had taken up residence in her throat so she could not quarrel even if she wished.

  “I love you, Viola. I want you. I want you forever.” His voice was thoroughly uneven. Heavenly. “Say you love me too.”

  “I don’t take orders,” she barely managed to choke out.

  “It is not an order. It is a plea.”

  She swallowed thickly. Twice. For the first time in fifteen years since a band of scruffy sailors had gagged her mouth, she actually could not manage to speak.

  Jin’s gaze covered her face, at once warm and anxious. “Viola, I am perishing before you. Perishing.” His tone was strained. “Say something.”

  She nodded.

  “What does that mean?”

  She nodded again, faster, her throat a clogged mess of joy.

  His eyes seemed to sparkle. “You do love me.”

  She got dizzy nodding.

  “Why aren’t you speaking? What is-”

  She clutched her neck. “C-an-not-” she rasped. “Fr-frogh.”

  He looked astounded. Then he pulled her hand away and bent to set his mouth atop her windpipe.

  “Function, beautiful harridan’s voice,” he murmured, trailing soft, sweet kisses along her throat. His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. “Speak. I want to hear the words. I need to hear them.”

  “Of course I love you,” she whispered, barely a sound through her thick throat. But it was enough for him, apparently. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her tight to him. She buried her face against his chest and squeezed her eyes shut. “At Savege Park you said that your feelings had not altered,” she said on a damp little hiccup of happiness.

  “They had not.” He kissed her brow. “Have not.”

  “But-”

  He silenced her again with his mouth. Quite nice. Quite perfect. Quite as much like paradise as Viola had ever dared to hope or dream. Because this time he was hers.

  Abruptly the import of his words struck her. She pushed him away.

  “You were in love with me then? At the end of the fortnight?”

  He kept hold of her wrists. His eyes were bright but he said nothing.

  “You allowed me to believe-” She gaped. “You mean to say, I won the wager?”

  “Yes.”

  “You lied to me so you could repay your debt?”

  “I did. And because I believed you belonged here.”

  She understood. But not entirely. “You nearly broke my heart!”

  His brow creased. “You were, Viola, in love with another man at the time.”

  “I-” She clamped her lips shut. He was already far too arrogant and some things were better left unsaid. Or perhaps not. “I may not have been… at that time.”

  For an instant, his eyes widened. Then his mouth curved into an unabashedly proprietary smile. “I promise to make it up to you.”

  “Make it up to me?” She plunked her fists onto her hips. “You have no honor whatsoever.”

  “I’ve never said I do.” He slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her so she fit snugly against him, and bent to nuzzle her neck. “I am not a gentleman, Viola. I will never be one.”

  “No, I can see that.”

  His mouth was warm in the tender place beneath her ear. “Marry me anyway.”

  “I will consider it,” she said shakily.

  His hands slipped down her back, his cheek against hers. “I love you, precious woman. More than you can fathom.”

  “I have considered it. Yes.”

  He laughed and kissed her on the lips. She pulled out of his hold. He looked dazed, and she nearly plastered herself to him again. Instead she unpinned her bonnet, pulled her shawl and gloves off, and stepped out of her slippers.

  “Hold these.” Her heart pattered swiftly.

  “Hold these?”

  She kissed him on the cheek, turned, ran three strides, and dove into the river.

  The water was quite a bit colder and darker than she liked. Fingers of early evening sunlight filtering through it only served to illuminate all sorts of flotsam and jetsam that she did not wish to study. But she hadn’t time to do so anyway, and her skirts proved tricky to maneuver. The bottom was rather farther down than she had imagined, too, and thick with silt and muck, pulling at her arms and hands. It took her quite a while to locate the casket.

  She broke through the surface gasping for air. Jin was there, holding her above the murky water and pressing kisses onto her filthy face, then hoisting her into the hands of a pair of lumpers dockside. She clutched the little box to her until he climbed from the river and his arms came around her again.

  He brushed away her sopping hair and kissed the bridge of her nose. “You are insane.”

  “No, I am only very much in love with you and I want you to be happy.”

  His eyes shone. “I do not need that box to make me happy. Not any longer.”

  “Yes. But isn’t it nice to have it anyway?” She dimpled. “By the by, Jin, what’s in it?”

  Chapter 31

  Lady Justice

  In Care of Brittle & Sons, Printers

  London

  My dearest lady,

  I write with unhappy news: Sea Hawk has quit the Club. Thus our numbers are once more diminished. We are now a sorry small lot-only three. If you could see your way to resting your campaign against our poor little band of companions, I would nevertheless eternally count you the most worthy adversary and continue to sing your praises to all.

  I admit, however, that should you do so, I shall regret the loss of you.

  Yours &c.

  Peregrine

  Secretary, The Falcon Club

  To Peregrine:

  Your cajoling fails to touch me. I will not rest. Be you three, two, or only one, I will find you and reveal you to public scrutiny. Take care, Mr. Secretary. Your day of reckoning will soon be at
hand.

  – Lady Justice

  P.S. Thank you for the salted herring. You ought to have commenced with that. I simply adore salted herring. You cretin.

  Epilogue

  The little casket of gold and enamel rested on the piecrust table, lid broken off, interior empty. The hands gripping the letters that had emerged from it were pale and quivering, skin translucent where it peeked from beneath lacy cuffs.

  “They wed in secret.” The elderly lady’s voice was thin, unaccustomed to activity. “The vicar did not approve, but he saw young love and he was a kind soul.” Her brow creased delicately. “But she was not as brave as she wished. Days later when her father took her to marry the man he had chosen-a powerful man and influential in that world of warlords-she did not refuse. She saw her punishment, and the danger to my brother in her land, and feared it greater than she feared God’s disapproval.”

  Viola leaned toward her, mouth agape. “She married a second time?”

  The lady nodded. “She did not believe it bound her in any sacred bond to her new husband. My brother wrote her these letters each month after he left Alexandria. From Greece first, then Prussia. Then from here.” She smoothed her fingers across the sheets of foolscap and her pale blue eyes were soft. “He had not wished to leave Egypt, but she insisted. She told him that she had lost the child, that she could no longer see him, that her husband would discover them and they would both be killed.” She lifted her gaze to Jin. “But she lied. She did not lose the child.”

  He took a visible breath. Across from him in the parlor furnished with simple elegance, his aunt offered him a kind, wrinkled smile.

  “She only wished to protect your father. My brother was still a young man, with his whole life ahead of him. She told him to return to England, to forget her, indeed to imagine her dead, to marry and have a family.”