03 - The Wicked Lady (30 page)

Something was different this time. She felt a desperate tenderness. Pleasure soared within her, and she wanted to shout out how much she loved him.

Instead, she held back. Kristen knew he might laugh at her softly spoken words, so she showed him with her caresses and kisses until she drove them both to the brink of insanity.

"Kristen, my love." The words sounded weak as Trevor drove into her one final time. Waves of pleasure washed over her, and she tightened her arms never wanting to let him go. She held him close until his breathing returned to normal.

He slid to the side, pulling her with him. She cuddled next to Trevor as he drifted into an exhausted sleep. 

"I love ye," she murmured, but knew her voice landed on deaf ears. Maybe it was for the best that he not know, she thought as sleep called to her, because she didn't know how to handle these strange new feelings.

And she didn't know if she could trust him.

Kristen leisurely stretched and opened her eyes to the soft morning light. She rolled over to wish Trevor a good morning, but found herself alone in bed.

Frowning, she felt a sharp stab of disappointment. She had wanted to snuggle and enjoy Trevor holding her close.

Evidently, he had other ideas.

She sat up in bed. Last night Trevor had been so loving, so tender, and simply wonderful. She'd hoped they had, perhaps, made a fragile beginning. She gnawed on her bottom lip and wondered how he felt this morning when he'd first awoke.

Had he been happy?

Did he have regrets?

Kristen climbed out of the high, old bed and pulled the bell cord for Rebecca.

It wasn't long before the door opened, and the maid came through the door. "Yes, mum."

"Do you know here Trevor has gone?"

"Not exactly, mum. I heard him tell Jeeves, the butler, that he was going to search for Hagan."

Kristen sighed. She didn't know whether to consider that good news or bad. Kristen moved over to the wardrobe.

"Let me get your dress, mum."

"I want to look a moment," Kristen said. "Will you style my hair this morning?"

"Of course, mum.  "I'll fetch my things."

Kristen glanced over the gowns hanging in the wardrobe while she thought. Hagan had been gone for two weeks, and every day he was gone made it just that much more difficult to find him. She knew her crafty stepfather could cover his tracks well.

Kristen decided she wasn't going to sit and wait one minute longer. While Rebecca was out of the room, Kristen snatched a plain brown dress off a hook, and she threw it on the bed.

Rebecca returned and placed her combs and hair pins on the dresser.

"Please style my hair in a tight bun in the back," Kristen told Rebecca as she sat down in front of the dressing table.

"Hadn't you rather have something prettier?" Rebecca asked as she brushed Kristen's long red hair.

"Not today. I've an errand tae run and I dinna want tae be bothered with a lot of curls."

"As you wish," Rebecca replied as she expertly pulled Kristen's long hair together and started wrapping it around the center. She secured the hair with hairpins.

"Put an extra pin at the very top," Kristen instructed.

"Is that to yer likin', mum?" Rebecca patted Kristen's curls and moved to the side while she watched her mistress and waited for approval.

"Fine, thank ye."  Kristen stood. "Ye always do a good job."

Rebecca help Kristen dress, and in no time she was ready. Giving herself a final glance in the mirror, she was satisfied she wouldn't draw much attention in her old neighborhood. She turned to leave, and that's when she noticed Rebecca starting at her in a most peculiar way.

"What?" Kristen asked.

"If you don't mind me saying, mum, you are acting a bit strange. Is there something I can help you with?"

Kristen smiled.
"I wish you could, but this is something I need tae do by myself."

"You should not go out alone," Rebecca reminded her. "If you give me a minute, I can get ready and go with you."

"I do many things I shouldn't," Kristen said and smiled. "But this is something I need tae take care of. I'll be back soon," Kristen said on her way out the door.

Soon Kristen was on her way. She had the driver of her carriage drop her off at Grafton House, the dress shop where she'd bought her wardrobe, with instructions to pick her up in the afternoon. She'd thought of everything. No one would question a lady visiting her dressmaker shop.

As soon as the carriage had left, she weaved through the streets until she was once again in her old neighborhood.

She paused to look at her rat-infested street. It was so much worse than she remembered. Somehow she had forgotten.

Vendors were crying out what they had to sell on their carts as they moved up and down the docks. Kristen glanced out at the Thames. It was low tide and the Mudlarks were busy she noted as they scrounged for coal, copper nails, anything they could sell that would buy a little food for an empty stomach. And they were all children.

Kristen had never tried the scrounging herself because she couldn't stand the mud covering her bare feet, but there were many children who became Mudlarks. She vowed that Hagan wouldn't be one of them, providing she found him in time.

An orange girl held a bright orange up to her as she passed. Kristen couldn't help stopping to buy one. How often had she longed to do so when she lived on this street.

Further on down the street, several barrels were turned over with debris strewn on the streets. The usual tabby and black cats stood on top of the barrels, reaching their paws in the openings in hopes of finding a morsel of food someone had thrown out. She shook her head at the dirt she'd lived in for so long.

Kristen hurried past a couple of taverns, then made a left on Waters Street. Dirty Sally glanced up as Kristen went by, but said nothing. Evidently the woman didn't recognize her, or didn't care, because she continued searching though a pile of trash. Further down the street, Kristen observed Two-Fisted Joe stalking his next unsuspecting victim. She couldn't help but smile at what once was her life--a life she didn't intend to go back to.

Finally, she spotted the one person, she thought could help her. "Sam!" she called to a small man wearing a faded brown coat.

He whirled around and stared warily at her as if he were trying to decide whether to run or stay in recognition.  "Whatcha want, lady?"

"
'Tis Kristen." She held out her arms.

Sam squinted and peered a little closer at her. "Kristen, girl," he said and finally grinned in recognition.  Look at ya. Somebody has gone and cleaned ya up real nice."

"Yes, they have," she admitted with a wry smile. "How are ye doing?" she asked.

"Not too bad for an old man. Still trying t
o dodge the Bow Street police. Ya know what a pain in the arse they can be. What brings ya back?"

Kristen took a deep breath and prayed he would be able to help her. "Ned has stolen Hagan. Have ye seen them?"

"I did. Hagan was with your pa." Sam rubbed his chin as he remembered. "Ned said pickings were slim 'round here, and he and the boy were going to head north."

"He's not my da!" It was impossible to steady her rapid pulse. "When did ye see him?"

"Last night."

"Oh dear!" she blurted out. "
'Twould mean they'd be leaving tomorrow." Kristen felt s scorching heat spread through her body. An inner-torment began to gnaw at her. "Where are they staying?"

"Ya wouldn't believe it--."

"Where, Sam?" Kristen cut him off.

"Get this, girl. They're staying at The Dirty Lady. Actually sleeping in a bed, they are." Sam rocked back and forth, nodding his head. "Seems Ned's getting too good for the rest of us."

"Thanks, Sam." Kristen placed a gold coin in his hand, then turned and headed for the tavern. The Dirty Lady had to be one of the worst taverns on the wharf, and she didn't want Hagan to stay there one minute longer than he had to.

But how was she going to get him out? She couldn't go in
the tavern dressed as she was. She'd draw too much attention. Even if her gown was plain, it was still better than most of the clothing seen in this area.

The sky had turned a dusky hue by the time Kristen found The Dirty Lady. She stood in the shadows across the street, watching the red front door. Now what? She had come this far. She wasn't leaving without her brother.

There wasn't any way she could get through the front without Ned seeing her; she had no doubt he was at the bar. Where there was liquor . . . Ned lurked close by.

That meant she needed to find another way into the building. She stepped from the shadows and bumped into a seaman passing by.

He grabbed her arms. "Look'n for some fun?" he asked, pulling her next to his body.

He was drunk, of course. Everyone in this part of town stayed drunk, but he was way too strong for her to pull away. She decided to try another approach.
"I'm looking for my husband. I think he's in there." Kristen batted her eyelids prettily. "I could make it worth yer while if ye'd go into the pub and confirm the fact."

He grinned at her. "How much?"

Kristen dug down in her reticule and produced a gold coin, which she placed in his hand. "I'll give ye four more upon yer return."

His eyes widened as he stared at the gold piece. "Ya got a deal," he said. Letting her arm go, he placed the coin in his pocket.

"Be back." He winked and started across the street.

Just as soon as he disappeared through the door, Kristen
hurried across the street, this time watching to make sure she didn't bump into anyone else. She didn't have an abundance of coins left to bribe people.

Moving between the buildings, she looked up at The Dirty Lady. There were three windows across the top. She silently prayed that Hagan was behind one of them. However, the windows were much too high for her to get to from here, so she maneuvered around to the back of the place.

Her luck held out. A back door, and no one was around.

She twisted the knob, but the door wouldn't budge. "This, Rebecca, is why I needed the extra hairpin," Kristen murmured as she reached up and removed a hairpin from her hair and jimmied the lock until she heard a click. Carefully, she peeked in the room, and seeing it was safe, she entered.

A dim light let her see only a small part of the room, which appeared to be some sort of storage area. Fearing discovery, she glanced quickly around and found what she wanted: a set of stairs, leading to the next floor.

Kristen took the stairs two at the time, being careful not to make any noise. A man was just coming out of the first room, and Kristen held her breath as he looked up and spotted her. However, he merely nodded her direction and moved toward the other set of stairs that led to the front of the building. She released a pent-up breath.

She listened behind the next door, then whispered, "Hagan." When she didn't receive an answer, she walked to the next door. "Hagan?"

"K-Kristen," came a soft cry.

She tried the door, and surprisingly this one opened.  She saw why the minute she entered. Her hand flew up, and she covered her mouth to keep from making any more noise.

Hagan was tied to a chair, his little head bent over. He looked up when she came in.

Kristen gasped. One of his eyes was black and swollen, and dried blood crushed his lower lip. Tears burned her eyes as she hurried toward him, and anger scorched her stomach.

"What in the Saints has the mon done tae ye?" Kristen whispered furiously. She ran a hand down the side of his face. She was shaking with rage at what Ned had done. Bending down she tried to loosen the ropes, but her fingers were clumsy as she tried to untie the bindings. Finally, after several tries, she freed him.

Hagan threw his arms around her neck, squeezing her tight.  I'm sorry, Kristen," he sobbed.

"Sorry for what?" She patted his back.

"That I rode too far. I wanted to see Trevor, but Pa caught me before I could get there."

She held Hagan away from her.
" 'Tis not yer fault. But promise me ye won't go off again without telling me first. Can ye walk?"

"Aye." He nodded.

"Good. We dinna want tae stay here."

Kristen took Hagan's hand
and reached for the door knob. "Come on." The door flew open, and she shrieked and jumped back. Ned filled the doorway, a near-empty bottle dangling from his fingers.

"See ya finally showed up," Ned snarled. "Where do ya think you're takin' my boy?"

"Away from ye," Kristen restored defiantly. She heard Hagan weeping, so she shoved him behind her. The sour stench of liquor made her want to retch. The man was a pig.

"Ya ain't going nowhere, girl." Ned took a step forward.

Kristen tried to push past him, but he grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. He slapped her, knocking her backwards. She landed on Hagan, but she didn't stay there long as she quickly scrambled to her feet. She had begun to shake again. Terrified, she was determined not to break down.