Candice Hern (20 page)

When Tony had first met her again after all those years, he had been so blinded by Edwina’s beauty he thought she might be as nearly perfect as a woman could be. But he loved learning of her little imperfections and shortcomings. She had a tiny scar on the underside of her chin from a fall out of a tree that he remembered well. She had no fashion
sense. She claimed not to be able to sew a straight seam. And she couldn’t carry a tune.

He was smiling when she turned to look at him. She stopped humming and smiled in return.

“It was wonderful, wasn’t it? I don’t know when I’ve seen such a splendid performance.”

“And on top of all that splendor, you have won two wagers this evening. What a triumph for you.”

She hunched a shoulder and looked a bit sheepish. “It doesn’t seem altogether fair. I could not have won the first without Flora’s help, nor the second without yours.”

“Are you forfeiting your two boons?”

She grinned. “Oh, no. I intend to have them both. In fact, I think I will name one of them now and save the other for later.”

“I am all agog, madam. Tell me what boon you will have? And remember, it cannot be anything to do with the
Cabinet
.”

“No engravers or colorists or binders?”

“No. It must be something personal. Something for you only, not for all the unfortunates of the world.”

“Because you have done more than your share for them tonight.”

“What?” Damn. She knew.

“I’m sorry. I realize you didn’t want anyone to know. But I do. And I’m very proud of you, Anthony.”

He looked down at the hands in his lap. He was
pleased—hell, he was over the moon—that she was proud of him. He was pretty damned proud of himself for once. Even his father, who shared the same solicitor and so knew what he’d done, had written a note congratulating him on finding something noble to do with his life. That note had almost undone him. But he really, really had not wanted Edwina to know.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “But I don’t want you to think—”

“That you did it for me?”

He looked up at her. “I did it for me, Edwina. To assuage my guilt, I suppose, over wasting my life and my resources. To give a little back for a change. To do something worthwhile. I did not do it
for
you, but I did it because of you. You taught me to look beyond myself to the greater good. You humbled me with your selfless devotion to causes and principles. You opened my eyes to the rest of the world. So, anyone who is helped by what I do owes it all to you.”

The moonlight slanting through the carriage window fell across Edwina and glinted off her watery eyes. She chewed on her lower lip. “Oh, Anthony,” she said. “What a perfectly lovely thing to say. You make me want to cry.”

He took her hand in his. “Don’t do that. I am useless in the face of tears. You will show me up to be a cad. Let us return instead to that other matter at hand. Your boon.”

“Oh, yes.” She gave a little sniff, blinked a few times, and composed herself. “My boon. I was actually hoping you would tell me about your endowment so I could perhaps be of help.”

“Some other time I will be happy to do so. But this boon is for you. What will you have, Edwina?”

A little air pocket of silence opened up between them. She met his gaze squarely, but it was a long moment before she spoke.

“There is one thing I would like very much.”

“Yes?”

“I would like you to kiss me again.”

His heart did a little flip-flop in his chest, but he kept his eyes steadily on hers. “That is what you want from me?”

“Yes.”

He lifted a hand to her face and stroked his thumb along the line of her jaw. “Never have I faced a more pleasant forfeit, madam. Allow me to oblige you.”

He bent his head to hers and kissed her.

It began slowly and gently, just as it had earlier before the opera. He started with her eyes, kissing the corners, which were still slightly damp with un-shed tears. He trailed butterfly soft kisses along her jaw and cheekbones to the delicate hollow beneath her ear, and downward to the vulnerable skin of her throat.

Her breathing became shallow and stirred the hair at his temple, and stirred his desire to a fever
pitch. He moved up to take her mouth, and something instant and volatile flared between them. Wild and torrid and unbridled. He ravished her mouth, plundering its mysteries and sweetness. He pressed her close, felt her breasts crushed against his chest. Her arms had wrapped around his neck, encircling his shoulders, enveloping him in the spicy fragrance she wore. One hand worked its way up his neck and into his hair, and giving turned to taking. The assault became hers. He let her take what she wanted, opened his mouth wide and offered his tongue. And she sucked and pulled on it in imitation of a more intimate act, and he thought he might go mad with wanting more.

Instead he wrenched back control and pulled her more tightly against him, sliding his hand over the soft fabric of her dress, tracing the elegant curve of her spine and hip. He pressed her hip against him so she could feel his desire, and reached his hand down to cup her breast.

They kissed and kissed until the blood was roaring in his head. He was ready to lay her down on the bench when the carriage came to a halt.

They had reached Golden Square.

He broke the kiss with small nips to her neck and throat and jaw. “You’re home,” he murmured against her ear and then forced himself to pull away.

“So I am,” she said somewhat breathlessly. She sat up straight, then laid a hand on his arm. “Thank
you, Anthony. That is one of the nicest boons I have ever received.”

He took her hand and kissed it. “It was my pleasure, madam.”

They both began putting themselves to rights, adjusting clothing and hair and jewelry. There would be no mistaking what had just happened if anyone were to see them now, no matter how hard they tried to make themselves presentable. It was always worse for women, of course, with their elaborate hairdos and dresses that were often literally pinned together. Fortunately, he had only to get Edwina inside the door and hope that Nicholas wasn’t waiting there.

And if he wasn’t? Would Edwina ask him in? Would she take him upstairs so they could finish what they started in the carriage?

He hoped and hoped that was precisely what would happen, but he really wasn’t sure what to expect yet from her. She had obviously decided to let down her normal defenses and let him get at least one foot in the door. Was she ready for the next step?

He leaped out of the carriage and held out a hand to Edwina. She stopped in the door and a strange look came over her face.

“Something’s wrong.” She all but lurched out of the carriage, almost knocking Tony off his feet.

He took her elbows and steadied her. “What do you mean?”

“Look.” She gestured toward the house. “The rooms are lit, there are shadows at the windows, and carriages here in the street.”

“That’s Flora’s carriage,” Tony said, recognizing one of the two. The other was a hackney.

Edwina made a dash for the front door, but it was flung open by a frantic-looking Prudence, who called over her shoulder, “They’re here.”

Tony followed Edwina into the entry hall, and was taken aback to find its narrow confines crowded with Prudence, Flora, Nicholas, and—most astonishing of all—Madge of the Crimson Ladies, all talking at once.

“The worst thing…”

“A stupid mixup…”

“I din’t know…”

“…not Madge’s fault…”

“…have to be reprinted…”

“…should have checked…”

“I dunno what…”

“But they’re already…”

“We’ll have to retrieve them.”

“Stop!” Edwina held up a hand and shouted above the group to get their attention. When everyone had finally gone quiet, she said, “I can’t make any sense of what you’re all saying. One at a time, please. Prudence?”

“All right.” Prudence took a deep breath. “There was a bit of a mixup with the proofs for the next issue. They accidentally…” She paused and darted
a glance toward Anthony, then sent a plaintive look to Edwina. “The magazine page proofs became mixed up with…some other proofs for something else.”

“Ow, Gawd, it be all my fault,” Madge wailed as tears ran down her face. “I dropped ’em, see. I din’t know they was differ’t things. I musta put ’em back wrong, like. But I din’t know. I din’t mean to do nuffink wrong.”

“It’s all right, Madge,” Flora said, and moved to put an arm around her. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to do my job for me, especially knowing you could not read the pages.”

“So the pages got mixed up,” Edwina said, her voice tight and contained, “and printed out of order?”

“Something like that,” Nicholas said. He stepped forward to add his piece to the narrative. “The long and the short of it is, one of my projects got bound in with the magazine.”

“Oh, no.” Edwina’s face paled and she brought a hand to her forehead.

“And they’ve already been distributed,” Prudence added. “Just tonight, in time for sales tomorrow. Thank goodness we were here. Flora and I stayed late to go over some of the advertising contracts. We were a bit behind schedule because of—” She paused and seemed to notice for the first time the less-than-perfect state of Edwina’s dress. A
quizzical look came into her eyes, and then they widened suddenly as she obviously realized what it meant. A flush spread over her cheeks and down her neck. “We…we had been busy with other things. Anyway, when your copies were dropped off, we decided to check them over and discovered the mistake. We knew we had to act fast.”

“They knew you were at the opera,” Nicholas said, “so they got a message to me at the coffeehouse where I was meeting with William Thurgood. Pru’s note indicated we would need all the help we could get, so I stopped by and picked up Madge since I knew…um, that is, she…I was…Oh, hell, I knew where to find her, all right? We were just beginning to discuss how best to rescue the situation when you walked in.”

“Oh God.” Edwina’s naturally pale face was drained of all color. “What time were they delivered?”

“It was around half past nine,” Prudence said.

“Thank God for that, then,” Edwina said. “We can hold out some hope that the packets didn’t reach the main post offices in time for the night coaches to pick them up.”

“That’s what we were hoping as well,” Prudence said. “Otherwise…”

“Yes, otherwise we will be in a terrible fix. So, let’s assume they haven’t been picked up. We must see about getting them back.”

“That’s what we were just discussing before you arrived.” Flora’s eyes took in Edwina’s slight dishevelment and sent Tony a speaking glance.

Tony felt he was missing something. There was too much anguish in the air over a few misbound pages. Something else was going on here. “Let me see if I understand what has happened,” he said. “Nicholas had some sort of project destined for the printer, unrelated to the
Cabinet
, and the pages accidentally got bound in with the next issue?”

“That’s right,” Nicholas said.

“And what exactly is it that got bound in by mistake?” Tony asked.

Nicholas cleared his throat. “Actually, it was a political pamphlet.”

He might have guessed as much. “On what topic?”

“On, um, Catholic emancipation.”

Edwina made a strangled sound behind him. Tony caught a look passing between her and Flora, then Flora frowned and nodded her head.

“Bloody hell.”

Everyone turned to look at Edwina, who never swore. She was red with fury. “We must retrieve every single copy of the
Cabinet
. All three thousand four hundred and twenty-two. Every one of them. Now. Tonight.”

So much for his more amorous plans for the rest of the evening.

Tony was not entirely certain he understood the
level of Edwina’s anger. He sensed it was the topic more than the printing error that worried her. It was a volatile issue. His own father and uncle were outspoken opponents of Catholic emancipation. Edwina must be concerned about possibly alienating certain readers so soon after wooing them with fashion.

“It is a controversial topic, to be sure,” he said. “You are right, Edwina, that it should not be in the pages of the
Cabinet
.”

“It most certainly should not.” Her dark eyes were black with anger and her oddly stiff posture revealed her impatience. “But we have no time to stand around and discuss it,” she continued. “Come into the study with me, all of you, and I will tell you what we are going to do.”

“H
ere it is.”

Anthony held up the package from Daniel Imber marked LFC Oct 30 copies.

“Hurry up,” Edwina whispered. “I hear someone coming.”

He tucked the package under one arm, grabbed her hand, and dashed up the stairs from the service yard to the street. Edwina crashed into his back when he came to a sudden halt.

“Evening,” he said in an odd voice.

Edwina’s heart raced as she pressed up close behind him, trying to be invisible.

“’Ere now, wotcher doin’ down in Jackman’s yard at ’is time o’ noight?”

Anthony began to chuckle and he staggered
slightly on the stair. “Jus’ having a bit of fun, doncha know?” His voice was thick and slurred. He pulled Edwina forward and turned her into his shoulder. He rubbed his hands along her spine and gave her bottom a little pat. “Man’s allowed to have hish fun, ishn’t he?” He bent his head and gave Edwina a sloppy kiss.

The man laughed. “Right yer are, guvner. Nice little piece yer got there. Would’t mind ’avin a go at ’er meself.”

It was no wonder the man thought her Anthony’s lightskirt. Though he was still in evening clothes, she had changed into more comfortable garments and looked positively drab next to his golden splendor.

Anthony wrapped his arm around her more tightly. “Get your own woman, man. Thish one’s mine.”

“A’right, a’right. No need ter git inter an ’uff about it.”

He walked away, but Anthony kept a close hold on her until the sound of the man’s boot heels had faded. Then his chest began to shake and she realized he was laughing. He released her from his embrace, grabbed her by the elbow, and hurried her down the street and around the corner to where his carriage waited. He flung open the door and practically tossed her inside. He said a few words to his coachman, threw the packets in the boot with the others, and joined her in the carriage.

The moonlight shimmered in his golden hair and enhanced the twinkle of laughter in his silvery eyes. “Well, my little doxy, that was another close call.”

“And that was quick thinking, sir.”

They locked gazes for a moment, and simultaneously burst into laughter. She fell against him, helpless with mirth. His arm came around her and they laughed and laughed.

Edwina finally came to her senses. “We must not dawdle. There are several more booksellers on the list.”

It really was no laughing matter, even though it had turned into a rather fun adventure. Edwina had determined to retrieve every single copy of the
Cabinet
before any of them fell into the hands of a reader. She, and all of her cohorts, had also been very careful that none of the misbound issues got into Anthony’s hands. They kept him busy with other distractions so that he never got an opportunity to actually read the offending pages.

Later, Edwina was going to throttle her brother for not correcting those pamphlet proofs and removing the attack on Anthony’s uncle.

Thankfully, her meticulous attention to detail meant that she had the precise list of all booksellers in town who received copies. There were over three hundred booksellers in London, but only about fifty, thank heaven, carried the magazine. The bulk of the issues were mailed to individual subscribers, and those had been delivered to one of the two
main post offices for distribution via the Royal Mail. They had been exceedingly fortunate that the packets had been delivered too late for the night coaches, and so they actually had until morning to retrieve them.

But Edwina wanted to deal with those first. She and Anthony went to the Lombard Street Post Office where, as owner and editor they had the right to reclaim the magazines before they were distributed. The night guards had not questioned her and Anthony’s authority; the only difficulty had been in locating all the packets, which were already being sorted. But they had managed to find them all, with Edwina checking off each one on the long list of subscriber names. The whole business had taken an inordinate amount of time, though, and she was glad she had anticipated as much and had only taken on the task of going to booksellers in the near vicinity, beginning at Cheapside.

Edwina had assigned each team of two—Nicholas with Prudence and Flora with Madge—to go to every bookseller who’d received a delivery of the magazine and retrieve them. She had divided up the list geographically, with each pair assigned fifteen to twenty shops. It was a thoroughly improper and clandestine operation, resulting in outright thievery in most cases, since the magazines had been paid for.

Before leaving Golden Square, she insisted that all of them, with the exception of Madge, help
write out notes to each bookseller confessing to reclaiming the delivery and promising a new delivery as soon as the issue was reprinted.

She and Anthony had left notes in service yards and slid them under doors and tacked them to doorframes. So far they had found every delivery, clearly marked and ready to be unpacked and sold in the morning.

“Where to next?” Anthony asked.

Edwina looked at the list again. “Ludgate Hill. Two shops. Then one in the Strand, and we’re finished.” She looked at him and smiled. “I can hardly believe we’ve done it. I hope the others have been as successful.”

“As a gambling man, I ought to have put money on you tracking down every single copy. I’d say it was a sure bet from the beginning, since I had known you wouldn’t rest until it was done.”

“Too bad there was no one around to take that bet. You might have made a tidy profit tonight. Assuming the others are doing as well as were are.”

He rapped on the ceiling, and the coachman slid open the tiny communicating window at his feet. Anthony gave him the direction, and they were on their way again.

“You made a pretty little doxy back there,” he said. “That fellow wanted to get his hands on you, the cur.”

“Ah, but you become very possessive in your cups, sir. It was actually rather thrilling to have you
claim me as yours in such a manly fashion. You might have a future on the stage. You played the role to perfection.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then did not. Instead, the amusement faded from his eyes as he gazed at her intently. “It was not a difficult part to play,” he said.

A sudden yearning fluttered in her breast so fiercely she could barely breathe. Did he want her for his own? After their passionate interlude in the carriage earlier, it was clear he wanted her physically. But he’d never made a secret of that. And she wanted him, too. She had been considering the wisdom of inviting him into her bed when they had arrived at Golden Square to find pandemonium in the entry hall. But then she had become so angry, and so anxious Anthony might discover what had really happened, that all thoughts of such an important decision had been put aside. She thought of it now, though, and wondered if she would regret it if she gave in to her desire for him.

It was rather more likely she would regret it if she did not.

She was saved from contriving a response when the carriage came to a halt. It had been only a short distance from St. Pauls Church Yard, so it was just as well they had not embarked on a serious discussion about whatever this was that drew them to each other. There was no time.

The first shop had an easily accessible service
yard and they found the “LFC” package without difficulty. The next shop was only a few doors down. It had a service entrance on the side with a short stairway to the door. There was only a tiny area in front of the door, where night deliveries had been stacked. Anthony started down the stair, with Edwina close behind, when a cacophony of barking erupted from a large and ferocious-looking beast guarding the door.

“Damnation.” Anthony stepped back, almost tripping her. “The thing’s a monster.”

They stared down at the very large and very loud dog at the bottom of the stairs. He looked determined to keep them out.

“I’m fairly good with dogs,” she said. “Let me try.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She ignored Anthony and inched down the steps holding out a hand, palm down, cooing, “Good dog,” over and over as she approached. He stopped barking and she thought she’d won him over, when he bared his teeth and lunged.

A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and lifted her back to the top of the stairway.

“Damn it, Edwina, that thing might have killed you. Thank God he is on a short chain.”

“But we have to get those magazines. Perhaps if we went down together…”

“I suppose you want me to fight off that beast while you search through the deliveries.”

“We could try.”

And so they made another attempt. Anthony took each stair ever so slowly, keeping Edwina at his back. The dog growled and tugged at his chain, but was no longer barking. He watched them with a baleful eye as they descended to his domain. When they reached the last stair, he started barking again. Loudly. Continuously.

Neighbors began to shout out their windows for quiet.

Anthony grabbed the dog’s chain and held him at bay while Edwina moved cautiously toward the deliveries.

“Hurry,” he said. “I don’t know how long I can hold him off before he decides to rip my throat out.”

There was a mountain of packages in the tiny space. She had to move several heavy boxes before she saw the distinctive “LFC” marking on a small package in the far corner. All this effort for only a dozen copies.

“Got it,” she said, and tucked it under her arm.

She moved around Anthony, watching the still-barking dog the whole time. When she was in front of him at last, she dashed up the stairs….

And found herself staring down the barrel of a very large gun. Held by a very large man in a nightshirt and cap.

Anthony collided with her and swore beneath his breath.

“I’ll take that package, madam,” the gunman said.

“No, please, let me explain.”

“Hand it over.” He poked her shoulder with the gun. “Now.”

She could see no other choice, so she held it out to him. He kept the gun steady on her while he examined the package. He looked up and his face was pinched into a puzzled, exasperated expression.

“What is this? Some kind of joke? You confronted Lucifer for a bunch of ladies’ magazines?”

“We can explain,” Anthony said.

“I should hope you can. I’d be very interested to know what the bloody hell you’re doing in my service porch in the middle of the bleeding night, pinching my merchandise.”

“Are you Mr. Pritchard, then?” Edwina asked.

“Who wants to know?”

“My name is Edwina Parrish and I am the editor of
The Ladies’ Fashionable Cabinet
. And this is Mr. Anthony Morehouse, the publisher.”

The bookseller frowned. “You’re stealing your own magazines?”

“As ridiculous as it sounds,” Anthony said, “that is precisely what we are doing.”

“But we have a note we were going to leave at the front door,” Edwina added. She rummaged through her reticule and retrieved the note. “It explains everything. You see, there was a rather, er, embarrassing error in the printing which was not
discovered until the magazines had already been distributed. We did not want to chance even a single issue being sold before we could pull them.”

Pritchard lowered the gun and took the note. “That bad an error, was it?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Well, it seems like a damn fool way to rectify it, scaring the life out of Lucifer and waking the whole bloody neighborhood. Here.” He held out the package and Edwina grabbed it before he could change his mind. “Now get the hell out of here so I can get some sleep.”

They were very quiet when they returned to the carriage. Edwina thought Anthony was angry over what had happened, but when she looked over at him, he was smiling.

“Come here,” he said and held out an arm.

She curled up against him and he wrapped his arm around her.

“You are surely the most intrepid, tenacious, pigheaded woman I have ever met. And I adore you.”

He kissed the top of her head and she thought it might have been the most purely contented moment she’d experienced in over eight years. He kept her close until they reached their next and final stop. The bookseller on the Strand had a large fenced-in delivery dock. It was simple enough to get inside, find the package, and remove it. No challenge at all. A rather pedestrian end to their night’s adventure.

The sky had already begun to show the purple shades of predawn by the time they arrived at Golden Square. They were the last to return. The other four had experienced equal success, and equal adventure. The retrieved packages were spread out on the dining-room table. Edwina and Prudence set out to open them up and make a count.

When it was found that they had recovered all three thousand four hundred and twenty-two copies, wild cheering and shouting broke out. Edwina, too giddy and tired to be inhibited, threw her arms around Anthony and kissed him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nicholas sweep Prudence off her feet to swing her around in celebration. The look in Prudence’s eye left no doubt about her feelings for Nicholas. Did he know she loved him?

There was no time to ponder such questions. There was celebrating to be done. Nicholas led them upstairs to the drawing room and brought out the French brandy. He poured a small glass for everyone, and they traded stories of their adventures.

Flora and Madge, who had covered Shoreditch, Bishopsgate, and Snow Hill had been accosted more than once by men seeking their favors.

“But I knows how ter deal wiv them rotters. Crikey, I bin dealin’ wiv ’em all me life.”

“She was a marvel,” Flora said. “Knows how to
get in and out of a place without being seen, I can tell you.”

“Bin doin’ that all me life, too.”

Nicholas and Prudence, who covered St. James, Piccadilly, and New Bond Street, had been chased by the night watch.

“Were almost caught, too,” Nicholas said. “The damned fellow thought we were thieves and set up a howl such as you’ve never heard. But we led him a grand chase through courts and alleys and finally lost him.”

They had all encountered wily street urchins and would-be footpads, nosey neighbors and curious passers-by, and variations of Lucifer, but no one else had faced a gun, thank goodness.