Daring the Duke (29 page)

"That’s some pretty steep trouble. "

The man opened his hands in appeal but was regarding her with interest, smelling opportunity. "The streets are hard, love."

Audrey grimaced, thinking about how she had used that same logic with Stephen. "Not fifteen hundred pounds hard."

Marty inched toward her. She pulled out a knife with her free hand. She had never liked guns much. Unreliable weapons, heavy and more deadly if the shot went well. Knives were much more efficient. You could immobilize a person without doing any lasting damage.

She took the handle between her thumb and index finger and pointed the blade to the ground. Her voice lowered. "I don’t miss with these."

Marty stopped, while Stan sized her up.

"Always the women that cause the most trouble. What do you want, love?"

"I want you to leave the slimy piece of filth in the chair alone."

"Fifteen hundred and he’s yours."

"I’ll give you twelve, and that’s final. I’m not in a negotiating mood."

Stan opened his arms. "And I’m feeling generous today. Where's the money?"

"Upstairs, and that puts us into a bit of a negotiations dilemma."

Stan smirked. "Tell you what, love. Me and Marty will take the slimy welsher out on the stoop. You can 1ock the door and run upstairs. You have the upper hand here, but don’t do us false, ‘cause he won’t be escaping. We’ll do the exchange in the doorway and be off. If you don’t come to the door with the money, we’ll just take our mutual friend with us. Deal?"

"Deal." Marty untied Maddox and heaved him toward the door. As soon as the three were out on the stoop, she locked the door and ran upstairs.

Throwing open her secret compartment, she counted out the appropriate notes and hurried downstairs.

She opened the door. Stan was singing a vulgar drinking ditty. She shoved the money into his hands and grabbed Maddox’s collar, dragging him inside. Dangerous situations always gave her an extra boost of strength.

Stan counted the notes and tipped his hat. "Pleasure doing business with you, love. Look forward to the next time."

"There won’t be a next time."

She shut the door and turned to her stepfather, who was bleeding and defiant. He would never change. She wondered if that would be true for her as well. She seemed to be going in that direction.

Maddox wiped the blood dribbling down his jaw. They stood staring at one another.

She sighed and spoke first. "Travers’s scheme is about to crash down on our heads. I will give you sufficient funds if you agree to leave England permanently."

He regarded her for a moment and wiped his face roughly. "I ain’t gonna change, and I ain’t gonna apologize. But I’ll take your deal."

"Good. Pack your things now. "

He didn’t move, but continued to wipe a hand across his face while regarding her.

"l look like hell, so do you," she said in defense.

"I know where your sister is."

Audrey looked at him, stunned.

"She’s in a farm warehouse just outside of town. Heard Travers describe her as a pig in a poke. Damn fool forgot that he had mentioned the farm before."

"Why are you telling me now?"

He shrugged. "I did love your mother. Best I could anyway. Didn’t know what to do with you two. Didn’t marry for you. I should have probably taken you two with me." He nodded. "Yes, you would have been useful."

He gave her the direction and turned to mount the stairs.

It wasn’t the apology of her dreams, and if in fact he had taken them, it would have probably been even more of a hell, but something inside her lightened. She gave him the money and watched him leave, his things already packed and readied for flight.

Audrey sat on her bedroom floor and sorted through the items within her secret compartment Her fingers caressed the butterfly pin. Travers had laughed at her when she had tried to give it to him. Claimed it had been a test to see if she could pull it off and, more importantly, if she would do it. She had, and how she had hated him even more after he had told her to keep it as a memory of a job gone well.

Her fingers closed around the exquisite pin. She looked at her small, cheap clock. She had time. No matter how badly she wanted to charge to Faye’s rescue, she couldn’t risk approaching the warehouse in the day.

If Maddox were correct, she knew Faye’s location. The thought brought exhilaration and pain. Stealing Stephen’s piece had been unnecessary.

Who would have thought Maddox would help? When this was all over, she hoped Stephen would understand.

Tears choked her, and she tilted her head staunch their flow. Hope was all she had. Stephen had nurtured that during the past few days. Redemption still hovered within her reach. She would make amends. Even if he rejected her explanation, it was the right thing. No, she amended. It was the only thing to do.

She changed into a day dress but kept her knives in place. She was going to offer herself to Calliope’s justice. If the lady sought to punish her, she would have to put justice on hold in order to save Faye. And then she would return for her sentencing. Audrey packed her necessary belongings in a bag. The other things were replaceable. She couldn’t risk returning to the house in case Travers or Stephen stopped by. Hailing a hack, she gave the driver the swanky Mayfair address.

Hopefully she could meet the marchioness alone, a cowardly thought, but if the marquess were in residence, she would still continue. She gave the haughty butler her card and waited in the foyer. The magnificent ceiling depicting the heavens caused her to stare.

"Please follow me." The butler led her into a room down the hall. A pleasant space filled with light and color. The marchioness was arranging flowers in a large vase.

"Good afternoon, Audrey. I’m delighted you’ve called. Tea please, Templeton."

The butler bowed and exited the room.

"There is no need for tea, Lady Angelford, I am simply here to return something that belongs to you."

"Please call me Calliope. Now then, what is it you want to return?"

Audrey withdrew the beautiful blue pin and held it out to her on her palm.

"I stole this from you the night we met."

Calliope took the pin and looked at her thoughtfully "I expected as much when I noticed it missing later. Why do you now return it?"

"Because it was taken under the wrong circumstances."

The edges of Calliope’s mouth lifted. "Thank you for returning it. I like your honesty"

"No offense, Calliope, but did you hear me say that I stole that from you?"

"Yes, yes you did." She tapped a finger on top. "Will you continue to steal?"

"No. I am happy to leave it behind. To leave it behind as a career, that is—I would do almost anything for someone I loved."

"Yes," Calliope said simply. "I sense that passion in you."

Calliope picked up two stems from a stack on the table and handed her one. "Would you care to help me with the display? Tea will be here soon."

Audrey looked at the stem in bewilderment. She didn’t know the first thing about floral design. Or any useful household skills for that matter.

"Did you know how to create floral arrangements before marrying the marquess?"

Calliope looked at her. "Yes, although it was not a passion of mine."

"I don’t know the first thing to do." She surprised herself with the admission. She hated not knowing how to do something, and hated even more admitting her weaknesses to someone else.

"Well, I don’t know how to pick a lock. Perhaps we can help each other.

It has always been a skill I’ve wished to learn."

She twirled the stem and looked at Calliope. "You are the oddest courtesan I’ve ever met."

Calliope laughed. "I’m a caricaturist. Acting as a courtesan was just a ploy to cover the fact. I thought Stephen would have told you."

"He would never divulge a secret if he cared deeply for that person."

Calliope stopped and looked at her. "No, he wouldn’t," she said quietly.

Uncomfortable under her regard, Audrey followed Audrey’s example and placed the stem into the arrangement. "A caricaturist. You spoof the ton?"

She paused. "But however did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Marry a peer knowing society’s expectations and standards."

Calliope chose a long, bluish-purple flower and caressed its blossoms before placing it in the arrangement. "I won’t lie and say it’s easy. A marquess marrying a commoner, even a commoner with a partially noble lineage, is not acceptable to many in society "

Calliope shrugged. "People say things. I can hear them whisper at parties, then smile to my face. Being observant does have its disadvantage." She smiled. "But, it really doesn’t matter. If you love someone, and want to share your lives, you find a way to make it work. You ignore the naysayers. You ignore the gossips. You live life as you please. And if you truly love someone, it’s enough. The other things become immaterial."

Longing rushed through Audrey. A deep yearning to have that type of relationship with Stephen. "But I’m a thief. I have no claims to the nobility. Even had my parents lived, I most likely would not have had a season."

"Stephen doesn’t seem to care. Why do you?"

"Stephen should care. He’s a duke. He has a responsibility to his title.

Besides, it’s a moot point. Stephen wouldn’t have me now even if he wasn’t a duke." She bowed her head, aching inside.

Calliope covered her hand. "I feel your pain, Audrey But, you have to make your own choices. And so does Stephen."

A noise in the hall caused Calliope to look up. "That would be James. He is home earlier than I thought." She looked at Audrey. "Would you want to stay for tea with James here? I will understand if you prefer not to.

Perhaps you would be more comfortable in a few days after things get worked out?"

"If they get worked out," Audrey muttered, and looked for an escape. The marchioness was giving her an out. She would deal with her reparations to the lady later.

Calliope put a hand on her arm and guided her to a rear door. "Oh, don’t underestimate Stephen’s resolve. Things will work out, have no fear. "

Audrey scooted through the kitchens, surprising the kitchen staff on her way. Calliope had given her new hope. If she got through this right and tight, maybe, just maybe, she would have found a new friend. And if she were really lucky, maybe the man of her dreams.

He was tired of playing games. All he wanted now was to find Audrey’s sister, bundle Audrey up, and take her back to the country, where they could sort things out.

With that in mind, Stephen walked into Bessington’s study pushing past the sputtering butler. The earl looked stunned, but he hid it quickly.

"Marston, to what do I owe the honor?"

Bessington motioned for the outraged butler to leave, and Stephen walked to the desk, tapping his walking stick as he did.

"I’ve come to let you know what I’ve decided."

"Good. I can have all of the papers drawn up within the day"

"Excellent."

Bessington looked relieved.

"Perhaps you can include the part about being blackmailed. Simply for the sake of thoroughness."

Bessington’s jaw dropped. "Pardon me?"

"When you write up the papers about the fake marker from Vernon and collaborating in illegal shipping activities."

"Now see here, Marston-"

Stephen leaned across the desk. "No, Bessington. The game is over. "

The earl went white. "I don’t know what you are talking about."

"Did you know we engaged the same solicitor, Bessington?" Stephen asked it as if it were a question of no importance.

Bessington fingered his cravat. "Yes, I did, actually."

"And?"

"He had been with me for years."

Stephen tapped him on the chest with the end of his cane. "Perhaps if you tell me where he is, I will choose to drop the investigation into your affairs."

Bessington sputtered, and his forehead dampened. "He was murdered."

"Then dig him up, I want to see the body. What did our dear solicitor Logan tell you about Vemon?"

"Nothing."

"Come now, Bessington. He had to tell you something. Perhaps if Clarissa married Vernon and produced an heir, an unfortunate accident might befall Vernon, allowing you control of both estates?"

Bessington flinched. "Never. He introduced the idea of a match between Clarissa and Vernon. But that was it. I was surprised when he introduced the notion of a match between you and Clarissa."

"Why? Because he hadn’t allowed a match between Clarissa and the eighth duke, Thomas?"

Surprise flashed across Bessington's face. "Yes. Exactly." The top of Bessington's forehead was beaded with moisture. He dabbed at it with his kerchief.

"He pushed strenuously for the match with Vernon. I was shocked when he refused with Thomas."

"Such a forthright solicitor! Why didn’t you replace him?"

The earl’s face turned ashen. "I couldn’t."

"Why is that? You are an earl, he is merely a man of affairs. Doesn’t sound like the balance of power that most have with their solicitors."

"I couldn’t."

Stephen tapped his fingers on his walking stick. "He found out about that nasty little affair at the brothel, didn’t he?" Bessington fell back in his chair. His white face registered the truth of Stephen’s accusation.

"Resorted to a bit of blackmail?"

Stephen leaned forward. "You have five minutes to tell me everything. I won't resort to blackmail, so tedious really. I have a much more effective solution in mind if you’re not forthcoming."