Lady Pamela and the Gambler: The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book Three

by Hutton, Callie

  Nick frowned. “Did you speak to your landlady about it?”

  “Y-y-yes, but she d-d-dismissed it as pr-probably a b-b-bad dream.”

  He sat for a moment and studied her. “Do you think it was a bad dream?”

  “I w-wasn’t sure. It s-e-seemed like it could have b-b-been, but then this m-m-morning something else h-h-happened that made me think of s-something very evil g-g-going on and it s-scared me.”

  Nick leaned forward. “What happened this morning?”

  “Th-there is one r-r-room in the b-b-boarding house that I called ‘jinxed’ b-b-because no one who r-r-rents it stays very long, even th-though the r-rest of us have been th-th-there for quite a wh-while.” She stopped and took a sip of tea.

  “I made fr-friends with the m-m-most recent tenant, a Miss R-R-Lizbeth Davenport, a very n-nice young woman. An artist.” She stopped and her chin trembled, and she patted her eyes with the shredded handkerchief.

  He was beginning to pick up her anxiety. His heart sped up as he nodded. “Go on.”

  “She’s d-d-disappeared. Just like everyone else who st-st-stayed in that r-r-room.”

  5

  Nick said nothing for a minute. “What do you mean she’s disappeared?”

  Pamela inhaled a shaky breath. “Th-there is a r-r-room down the corridor from m-m-mine in the boarding house. I’ve been living th-there f-f-for three years and in all that t-t-time more than a dozen women have occupied that r-r-room. Each time th-th-they leave it is always a s-s-surprise to everyone.

  “Since I am always b-b-busy with g-g-giving lessons, and they l-l-leave so quickly, I n-never got friendly with any of the w-w-women. Until the one b-before R-r-Lizbeth—a Miss Sp-s-spencer—and then Lizbeth.”

  “Take a sip of your tea, Pamela.” It was obvious from her speech that she was very upset. If she took her time it might help her.

  “Yes. Th-thank you.” She lifted the cup and managed to take a sip without spilling it all over herself.

  She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Miss Sp-sp-spencer n-n-never said a word to me about leaving, and sh-she suddenly was g-gone one morning after I sp-sp-spoke with her. I found Mrs. O’Leary p-p-packing up her b-b-belongings.”

  Nick allowed her time to compose herself again and then said, “Go on.”

  “This m-m-morning R-Lizbeth’s door w-w-was open and th-th-the r-room was em-empty. I asked Mrs. O’Leary—the landlady—wh-what happened to h-h-her and she said she m-moved out.” Pamela studied him. “I d-d-don’t believe her.”

  He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “And you seem to think these women disappearing, and the possibility of someone being in your room are connected?”

  “Y-y-yes.”

  “So do I.”

  Pamela shoulders slumped and she broke out into a smile. “Th-thank you. No one else s-s-seems to b-b-believe m-me.”

  A warning went off in Nick’s head. “What do you mean? Have you told anyone else about your concerns?”

  She nodded and took a sip of tea. “Yes. I asked M-mrs. O’Leary for information on wh-where Lizbeth went and sh-she said she d-d-didn’t know. When I k-kept pressing her she b-became agitated and t-t-told me to mind my own b-b-business.

  “Th-then I visited the p-p-police this morning and they d-d-did everything to make me f-feel silly except p-pat me on the head.”

  His muscles tightened and panic seized him as he sat forward, glaring at her. “I don’t want you to return to your boarding house.”

  Pamela’s mouth dropped open. “Not go b-back? Everything I own is th-there.”

  Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m afraid you’ve made yourself known to whoever is doing something illegal.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you there.”

  She drew herself up. With the wisps of hair hanging from her crooked hat, her shredded handkerchief, mis-buttoned coat, and swollen eyes, all he could think of was how adorable she looked; like an indignant child. He tried very hard not to smile.

  “You cannot order m-me about, Mr. S-s-smith. I am an adult and I c-can t-take care of myself.”

  Foolish woman. If anyone needed protection, it was her. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. There was no reason to antagonize her further, since it might encourage her to do something risky. “I think you might be in a bit deep. You have no idea what you are getting involved in. I’ve spent years on the street. I can smell criminal activity from miles away. This stinks to the high heavens.”

  “Why d-d-didn’t the police th-think so?”

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. Soon he would look as disheveled as she did. “They have to follow rules. Even if they spoke with your landlady—which I pray they did not—the fact that a young girl moved out of her room rather abruptly is not something that would interest the police.”

  She sat for a minute, chewing on her lovely lower lip, then straightened in her chair. “Whether the p-police believe me or not, I have to d-do whatever I can to f-find R-Lizbeth.”

  Nick’s heart took an extra thump. “Just a minute. You cannot go off on a search for a woman who may have disappeared for nefarious reasons.”

  “Th-there you are, t-t-telling me what to do again.”

  “Lady Pamela, I will not allow you to put yourself in danger.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “If you insist on returning to your room, promise me you will put something in front of your door when you retire for the night that will wake you up if someone tries to get in. A chair wedged under the doorknob would be good also.”

  She nodded.

  “And also, please do not do any sort of questioning. I have contacts you would never have access to. Please allow me to help you with this.” If he had his way, he would bundle her up and take her as far away from Bath as he could. A landlady already annoyed with Pamela’s questions could mean nothing or could mean a great deal.

  “I d-do feel b-better.” She gave him a warm smile that slammed into his gut. What was it about this woman that made him terrified of something happening to her? She continued to grin as she picked up a small sandwich and took a bite.

  “You know I am interested in courting you. That means I care about you. I understand, for whatever reason, you have been rejecting my suit, but if nothing else, please take my advice on things that I have a lot of experience with.”

  “I w-will.” She continued to devour almost the entire plate of sandwiches which told him she probably hadn’t eaten since her friend disappeared.

  Nothing more was mentioned about her friend while they walked from the restaurant to his carriage. He took Pamela’s hand and helped her into the vehicle. Once they settled in, he stared at her as they rode over the bumpy cobblestones.

  “Pamela?” He reached out his hand, holding his breath to see if she would accept his gesture.

  She offered him a slight smile and took his hand. He pulled her across the space to sit alongside him. He turned so he faced her and cupped her cheeks. “This is something I’ve wanted to do since I first laid eyes on you.”

  He slowly moved his head down until their mouths were only a breath apart. When she didn’t pull away, or slap his face, he closed the space between them and covered her mouth with his.

  He’d had his share of women over the years, but nothing affected him like the feeling of her soft warm lips against his. She tasted like honey and tea, moist and plump. His hands slid to her neck, his fingers slipping into her curls. A light flowery scent drifted from her hair.

  He touched her lips with his tongue, and she opened enough for him to sweep in and taste more of her. His entire world became this carriage, this leather seat, this warm and soft woman in his arms. Exactly where he wanted to keep her for the rest of their lives. Take care of her. Protect her. Be the man who teaches her the joys to be had in the marriage bed.

  To his amazement, she tentatively touched his tongue with hers and he groaned and pulled her closer until she practically sat on
his lap. He turned her head to take the kiss deeper and smiled when a slight moan escaped from her lips.

  It took him some time to realize the coach had come to a stop. Reluctantly, he pulled back and gazed into her eyes.

  Her glazed-over eyes.

  “I think we’re at your boarding house.”

  “Wh-what?”

  He smiled. The poor girl was addled. “We’re at your home.”

  “Oh.” She pulled away and patted her hair. “I s-see.”

  Nick took both of her hands in his. “I am going to make some inquiries about your friend. Please promise me that you will take no further action to make anyone believe you find Miss Davenport’s disappearance odd.”

  “B-but—”

  He placed his finger against her lips. “No buts, Pamela. I will call on you in a few days. In the meantime, say nothing to anyone, and act as though nothing is amiss.” He gripped her shoulders. “Promise me.”

  “Y-y-yes.” She shuddered and once again he had to tramp down the urge to have his driver take them both to his home where he could protect her. Instead, he stepped from the carriage and took her hand.

  He walked her up to the door and stood while the man at the door identified her and let her in. Nick sighed as the door closed and returned to his carriage. It was past time for him to be at the club. It did not feel good leaving her, but he was determined to win her over and be the one who took care of her and made sure she was safe.

  At least today with the way she responded to his kiss, he felt a bit more like she acknowledged their attraction. It was a small step, but a step nevertheless in the right direction.

  Pamela kept mostly to herself the few days after her meeting with Mr. Smith. She continued to give her piano and voice lessons in the back parlor, but she found Mrs. O’Leary was always lurking about when Pamela spoke with anyone.

  Although Mr. Smith had told her he would make inquiries and see her in a few days she had yet to hear from him. Hoping that was good news, that he hadn’t heard anything nefarious about Lizbeth, she began to relax more at home.

  However, she had no intention of forgetting that her friend had disappeared and might be in danger. Even if she wanted to conduct some sort of a search herself, she had no idea how to do that, and Mr. Smith, with his background would certainly be a better person to help.

  Every time his name drifted through her mind—which, much to her chagrin happened on a regular basis—she remembered the kiss they’d shared in the carriage and her reaction to it. Although she’d had messy, sloppy kisses from other men desperate enough to do so in want of her dowry, there was no comparison between those debacles and the feelings Mr. Smith had coaxed from her.

  Her thoughts drifted back to her student who just finished a very difficult piece. “You are doing quite well, Miss Chambers.” She was quite happy with the progress her newest student was making. She came to her with some skill on the pianoforte, but in the last few weeks her playing had remarkedly improved.

  “Thank you, my lady. I have been practicing a great deal.” The girl rose from the bench and gathered her reticule and gloves.

  Pamela led her out of the room and to the front door. “That’s very good. The only way to get better at anything is to practice.” She smiled as the girl shrugged into her coat and left the house.

  She checked her timepiece noting that she had some time before she needed to leave to meet Lottie and Addie at the bookstore. Addie had sold the store, but still had some things there that she wanted to retrieve. As a final goodbye to the store and all the wonderful memories she’d had there, Addie had invited her and Lottie to tea one last time. For more than a year it had been their habit to meet for tea every day at the bookstore at three o’clock.

  Pamela missed those days. The three of them, all single, all enjoying the freedom awarded a woman firmly and happily ‘on the shelf.’ They had pledged to each other that they would not marry, since they were done with the husband hunt. Then Addie had met Grayson and Lottie had met Carter and now Pamela was the only single one left.

  Not that she minded.

  There was no one she disliked enough to foist herself on, with her stumbling, bumbling ways. Like her sister-in-law, anyone who had to be around her all the time would soon grow weary and embarrassed by her lack of grace and polish in Society.

  Not Mr. Smith.

  She huffed.

  So he said. But he had no idea how difficult it was for her to speak in any normal way when confronted with an anxious situation, and most situations away from her home were anxious situations.

  She really could do with a cup of tea now, but since it was nearing the time to leave to meet Addie and Lottie, she headed upstairs to her room instead. As she reached the top of the stairs, she noticed the door to Lizbeth’s room was slightly ajar.

  Slowly she walked down the corridor and stopped at the door and peeked in. No one was in there. She turned and looked behind her, but all was silent. She edged the door open and stepped in.

  Across the room a paperboard box sat under the window. Pamela made her way swiftly toward it and opened the flap. She recognized some of Lizbeth’s things. She pulled out her hairbrush and small round box of hairpins.

  She leaned back on her heels and frowned. If Lizbeth had moved out, suddenly or not, she would not have left her brush and hairpins behind. She reached in and began to rummage through other items when the sound of the door hitting the wall had her jumping to her feet.

  Mrs. O’Leary stood there glaring at her. “What are you doing in here?”

  Pamela’s heart thumped so loudly she was sure Mrs. O’Leary could hear her across the room. She swallowed several times, then said, “I w-w-w-was just l-l-looking for …” She had no idea what to say, and no matter if she did come up with a reason, it would make no sense.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled and walked across the room and slipped past Mrs. O’Leary who said nothing but continued to glare at her, arms crossed.

  Completely out of breath, Pamela hurried to her room and leaned against the closed door. “Oh, m-m-my g-g-goodness.”

  Her heart continued to pound so hard she felt as though she would empty her stomach on her shoes. Whatever was she thinking going into Lizbeth’s room? With shaky fingers she changed into a walking suit and attempted to fix her hair as best she could.

  Mrs. O’Leary was nowhere in sight when she left her room and headed downstairs. Her heart had at least calmed down, but she still felt completely at sixes and sevens when she left the house to meet Addie and Lottie.

  Once her mind calmed down, she decided that she certainly didn’t want to worry her friends with her troubles since they were both in a family way. Maybe Mr. Smith would stop by tomorrow as promised and she could confide in him.

  “Don’t you b-b-both l-l-look wonderful.” Pamela kissed Lottie and Addie on the cheek and stood back to admire them. “M-m-marriage and impending m-m-motherhood agrees with y-y-you b-b-both.” She pulled out the empty chair at the table where an array of sandwiches, tarts and biscuits sat in the middle. Their favorite teapot with the sweet pink and white flowered cozy over it rested next to the platter.

  “How are you students progressing?” Addie asked as she poured the three of them tea. She fixed it with milk and sugar, just as each of them liked it.

  “They are d-doing well. In f-f-fact Miss Chambers has improved so m-m-much th-that I’m finding it hard to b-b-believe.”

  “Maybe she just needed to get away from her mother. From what you told us she is a bit of a shrew.”

  “Y-y-yes. That sh-she is from what M-m-miss Chambers s-s-says.” Pamela took a large, wonderful mouthful of her tea and closed her eyes as it slid down her throat. Whatever it was about tea she didn’t know, only that it calmed her down.

  “Is everything all right, Pamela?” Lottie looked at her with concern.

  “Y-y-yes. Why do y-y-you ask?”

  “Well for one thing, your stutter seems much worse than it normally is when you’re with us
.” Addie also studied her with concern.

  She felt bad holding out on her very best friends, but there was nothing they could do except worry themselves. It was best if she kept it all to herself until Mr. Smith could figure out what was going on.

  “I am p-p-probably just a bit t-t-tired.”

  “How is your friend Lizbeth? I thought you had invited her to tea with us?”

  “Uh. Y-yes. I d-did. B-b-but, uh.”

  Lottie covered her hand with hers. “We are your best friends, Pamela. If something is wrong, please let us help.”

  “I assure y-you -b-b-both, everything is f-fine. Lizbeth is unemployed, as y-you know, and she s-s-said th-that once she is receiving a p-paycheck again sh-she would join us at th-the Pump Room for t-t-tea.”

  “Today would not have cost her anything,” Addie said softly.

  Oh Lord. “I d-d-did not see her t-today. I think s-s-she was out sh-shopping when I l-left.” Pamela took another gulp of tea and wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then patted her sweat-beaded upper lip. She was not a good liar.

  Fortunately, the conversation turned to other things until finally the three of them finished their tea. Pamela and Lottie helped Addie bring the things she had left in the store to her carriage which was right in front of the store.

  They hugged and kissed each other goodbye with promises to visit again the following week at Addie’s home.

  Pamela passed on a ride home with Addie or Lottie, thinking the walk would do her good to clear her head before she returned home.

  6

  All was quiet when she entered the house. Now that Mrs. O’Leary had caught her in Lizbeth’s room rummaging through her box of belongings, her sense of happiness in this house had vanished. Now all she felt was nervous.

  “There you are.” Mrs. O’Leary’s greeting had Pamela jumping. “I was waiting for you to return to see if you can do me a favor.”