No Place for a Lady (33 page)

"I do not wish to start our relationship with a lie, Mr. Thompson," she whispered softly. "But I cannot take the time to explain matters right now. Please, I can only ask that you trust me. Could you take Lottie and her mother home for me?"

She felt the shift in his step immediately. He did not even pause as he turned from the ladies' retiring room toward the door.

"You wish to go home?"

"An excellent idea!" That was from Lottie, hurrying her steps to keep up with Mr. Thompson's longer ones.

But Fantine merely shook her head. "I cannot go yet, but they must. There... there is nothing wrong with my ankle. I have to speak with someone alone." She felt his arms tighten about her, and she rushed into her words. "It is not anything amorous, I assure you. Why, the very thought is nauseating," she said truthfully. "But I cannot do this with Lady Anne and Lottie constantly hovering about."

She felt him hesitate, his steps slowing with each second. "Chadwick released you to my care. Now I believe he meant more than just as a dancing partner." He shook his head. "I am sorry, but I cannot leave you alone."

They had reached the door, and Mr. Thompson called for his carriage. Lady Anne and her daughter caught up to them, both a bit breathless from their rapid pace.

"Oh, excellent," gasped the older woman. "I do thank you, Mr. Thompson, for your assistance. Are we to use your carriage?"

"It is my great pleasure to assist you." He looked significantly at Fantine. "I will take all of you home." His breath was on her face, but Fantine barely noticed. She saw instead the dark form of one of Hurdy's men around the comer. That was her destination. And she had to get there soon.

The carriage was brought around. Lottie and Lady Anne stepped forward, quickly easing themselves into the dark interior, both complaining of the chill. Then Mr. Thompson turned his attention to Fantine.

"Tell me who you must meet and where," he said softly. "I shall explain matters."

Fantine smiled, lifting her hand to touch his cheek. It was smooth and somewhat soft, and Fantine wondered if she would spend the rest of her life with this man. Indeed, she could think of worse fates. In fact, given the situation, he might very well be the best she could expect.

"You are a very kind and considerate man," she said softly.

"You sound as if you are surprised."

She grinned. "I suppose I am. I am especially glad that you do not have three gold teeth." Then impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He did not expect the gesture. Indeed, she had not expected to make it. But he responded quickly enough, slanting his mouth over hers with an intensity she found startling.

And somewhat dull. It was a press of flesh to flesh in all its unglorious, mundane, not at all interesting possibilities.

Nothing. Except another sharp stab of loss.

Fantine pulled away, the last remnant of joy drained from the evening. Despite everything. Despite the interest from numerous gentlemen, despite her success in finally ridding herself of Marcus, despite all the changes she had accomplished in her time with Lottie, one single inalienable fact remained.

She was alone. And would always be.

Even if she married this man, slept in his bed, and bore his children, she would still be alone. She did not love him.

With a sudden twist, she slipped out of Mr. Thompson's arms. She did not speak. She did not know what to say, and she would not trust her voice even if she did. So before he could react, she ran away, her feet flying over the stones.

Toward Hurdy.

Moments later she heard the sound of Mr. Thompson's carriage moving away. He had left. Lottie and Lady Anne were safely out of the way, and now she could concentrate on Hurdy.

By herself. Again.

"Where is he?" she demanded abruptly of the dark figure by the side of the building.

"Waitin' fer ye. Come on."

It was just as well that they had come to a ball thrown by one of the wealthiest families in London. They had a huge home and an extensive garden path behind it. The area was lit with glowing colored lanterns that lent a magical quality to the greenery without overly illuminating anything.

It was an enchanted walk for couples and a perfect rendezvous for her and Hurdy, especially as he and his men were still dressed as footmen. They could all wander though the area without appearing conspicuous.

Her guide brought her to a dark corner secluded by a hedgerow. In truth, it was no more than a small, dank clearing for refuse, and it smelled horribly, but it was likely the most private location.

"Well, well," she quipped, "fancy meeting you here."

Hurdy was leaning against the fence, inscrutable as he cleaned his nails with the point of a long thin knife. Around him stood three of his men.

Then Hurdy spoke. He did not even look up, merely addressed his long fingers, inspecting them with studied casualness. "Tell me why I should not kill you right now."

Fantine smiled. Part of her thrilled to the knowledge that she was no longer playing with amateurs. Hurdy was one of the best, and it was a pleasure matching wits with him. If only her life were not on the line.

"You cannot kill me because you still need me."

"You betrayed me."

"Me?" Fantine laughed fully for the first time. She had not realized how restricted her life with Lottie had been until this moment. She had finally returned to her element. "I did not betray anyone. We had a bargain. You do not move on Wilberforce until I speak with Teggie."

He shot forward, his knife at the ready, but she did not flinch. "We had nothing. And I am the only one what speaks with Teggie."

Fantine smirked, putting on a false show of bravado. "As if you could present my thoughts as well as I." She shifted, pushing his knife down and away from her as much as he would allow. It was still well within easy reach of her throat. But she continued as if he had dropped his guard completely. "What Teggie truly wants is to discredit Wilberforce, and only I can do that for you." She took another step forward. "Let me meet with Teggie, explain things."

His response was swift and final. "No."

Fantine shook her head. "Until I speak with Teggie myself, I will act as the MP's personal protector. You will get nowhere without me."

"Then I will kill you now."

She shrugged. "You cannot think I will go down without a fight. And I assure you, I shall make as much noise as possible. Whom do you think the nearby people will believe? Me, a pure and innocent member of the ton, or a hired footman who turns out to be a dockside criminal? Your neck will be stretched before you can say Jack Dandy."

She grinned, forcing a cockiness she knew was not warranted. And, in fact, her nervousness was soon proved true. Before she could do more than take a breath, one of Hurdy's men slipped forward to hold her securely from behind. She didn't even have the time to struggle before her arms were pinned behind her back, her own neck stretched as Hurdy's knife teased her throat.

"You will not have time to make a sound."

"No, but I will."

Everyone spun at the low voice, but it was Fantine who groaned at the sight.

There, silhouetted by a dark red lantern, stood Mr. Thompson, a pistol in his hand. He pointed it unerringly at Hurdy's chest, and he looked as if he was a crack shot.

"Sweet Jesus!" cursed Hurdy. "How many daft lords do you 'ave?"

"More and more every day, it appears," Fantine said.

Hurdy stepped forward, adding his own hand to her throat and squeezing in his frustration. "But 'ow? There is nothing special about you. You charms are barely above a street tart."

Fantine merely smiled, knowing that she was making headway with Hurdy, if only he would release his hold on her neck. "Let go an' I will tell you," she croaked out.

"But—" Hurdy cursed.

"I suggest you do as she says," said Mr. Thompson, raising his pistol.

The seconds ticked by as Hurdy measured Mr. Thompson's determination. Then he looked down at her, and she saw fury in his eyes. Had she pushed him too far?

Not yet. After an interminable wait, Hurdy cursed and stepped away. Though she was still held captive, she could at least breathe.

"Tell me now," Hurdy growled. "Who is this daft?"

"My friend," she gasped out. "'Tis easy, Hurdy. I know what they like, and I know how to give it to them." Then she lifted her head, her breathing at last evened out. "I do not know if I can teach it to you, but I can certainly tell you how to do it."

She spoke quickly. Despite Hurdy's concession, she knew the danger remained. She and Mr. Thompson could not easily defeat Hurdy and his men, especially as the henchmen had already spread out, preparing to take down the newest interloper.

"Come on, luv," she continued soothingly to Hurdy. "Let me go so we can talk." Then she glanced significantly at Mr. Thompson. "If he fires now, you will have dozens of daft lords here, all clamoring for your head."

Hurdy groaned, his expression one of resignation. "Very well." With a swift wave of his hand, he gestured for the one brute to release Fantine and the others to stop their menacing advance on Mr. Thompson.

"Very wise," returned Mr. Thompson. "Now, Fantine, if you would please come over here."

Fantine smiled, wishing she could explain. "I am sorry, Mr. Thompson. You have been very brave, and I am extraordinarily grateful. Unfortunately, Hurdy and I have not finished our discussion."

"Do not be ridiculous!" he snapped. "He was about to kill you."

"It is all part of a rather complex... um, negotiation. Now please just stand there looking threatening while I finish my business."

"But—"

"Trust me, Mr. Thompson. I can only keep them from killing you once, and I am afraid I just used up that allotment." Then she returned her attention to Hurdy. "Can you not see it? I am much better at this than you. Gentlemen fairly fall over themselves to save me. I know them, you see. And I know I am right about Teggie."

Hurdy folded his arms, his expression fierce. "The man hired me to do a job," he said firmly. "And I intend to do it."

"No, the man hired you to take care of a problem. Unfortunately, both you and Teggie lack enough imagination to see that murder is not the best answer right now." Fantine peered through the darkness, seeing hesitation in Hurdy's undisguised frown. "Look at him," she suddenly said, gesturing to Mr. Thompson. "He is as respectable as they come. Yet, he is here, risking life and limb to protect me. He is acting so gallantly, in fact, that I believe I shall marry him."

She could see Mr. Thompson's gaze dart to her in surprise before quickly hopping right back to Hurdy's thugs. Very good, she commended silently. He knew to keep his comments to himself until a more auspicious moment. So she turned her attention back to Hurdy, pressing her point as best she could.

"You cannot think you could engender such support on your own. Only I can do this. And that makes me extremely valuable."

Hurdy shook his head. "'E will never want you after all this."

"Then I will have lost the best one," she said as much to herself as to the others. "But there will be others."

"You are too cocky."

"I am bright, beautiful, and very sure of myself."

"Aye," Hurdy said, his frown so pronounced it seemed to take over his entire face. "Cocky means dead. You can never deliver what you promise."

"I can," she returned. "And if you do not snatch up my services, then I may have to make my bargain with Ballast."

That comment was the final straw for Hurdy, as she knew it would be. He cursed loudly and fluently, but the sound was his surrender and they both knew it. "Very well," he finally said, his words grudging. "You are in."

"Excellent!"

"But
I
talk to Teggie first. I will see if 'e wants to speak with you. If not, then you will 'ave to do what I say, as I say it."

"I want to meet him, explain—"

"You do as I say!" Then before she could react, he once again reached out and gripped her throat, cutting off her breath as surely as any vise. "I am still the leader here. Do not ever forget that!"

Fantine lowered her eyes in acknowledgment, nodding her head when he allowed her to. Then he released her, throwing her away from him so that she stumbled.

"Fantine!" cried Mr. Thompson as he stepped toward her.

That was a mistake. He should have let her be, but he was a hero at heart and thought he could rescue her.

He could not. In that moment of inattention, Hurdy reached out and snatched away his pistol. Then he shoved her erstwhile rescuer into her. She had just regained her footing and was forced to catch Mr. Thompson to prevent him from tumbling them both back into the mud.

"Watch 'em," Hurdy snapped to his men. Then he stomped out of their tiny alcove, presumably to find Teggie.

It took a moment before she and Mr. Thompson regained their balance, but when she did, Fantine nearly kicked herself in frustration. Good Lord, she had muddled the whole affair again! She had not discovered Teggie's identity, and now she had dragged yet another unpredictable aristocrat into the entire mess.