Wedded in Sin (31 page)

“Just a bit ago. He was all smiles, but I never did like the look in his eyes.”

“What did he and Addicock speak about?”

Ned shrugged. “Don’t know. Sent me off. Told me I could leave early, so I did.”

Penny sighed with frustration. She knew there was something important here, but she couldn’t figure out what. Worse, she didn’t see how Samuel would discover what they needed to know. Thankfully, Samuel wasn’t finished yet. He leaned back in his chair and studied Ned.

“When did you first see the will?” he asked.

“August fourteenth.”

Penny felt her eyebrows rise. He knew the date exactly. Which told her that he’d been thinking about this even before she showed up. That he already suspected something was wrong. “My parents were murdered the very day before.”

“’Course they were. That’s what we do with a will. Once the person dies, we file the will at court. Nothing odd about that.”

“Only that it was the first you’d heard of it,” Penny pressed. “You’d never met my father, never heard about any will, and I’ll bet you know everything that Addicock does.”

Ned didn’t answer except to take refuge in his drink while Samuel took up the tale again. “I think Addicock was there at the murder. Maybe Bill did it, maybe not. But let us say it is Damon who is orchestrating things. Damon would want Addicock there, to see it done.”

Penny felt bile rise in her throat. “But why?” she choked out. “Why would he want a witness?”

“It’s a threat to keep compatriots in line. A kind of insurance.” Then he narrowed his eyes, obviously working through the details in his mind. “Once the forgery is made, Damon or his men kill your parents. Well, your father was the likely target. No profit in killing your mother unless they were together.”

She closed her eyes, seeing her parents as they had been that last night. They’d been quarreling actually, about whether to hire a bookkeeper or not. But they were going to a pub to talk it out with their friends. That was the way of her parents. Good or bad, they always went together to the pub. To talk or to celebrate or just be together. Now that she thought about it, Papa rarely went anywhere alone.

“They always went out together,” she said softly. “It would have been very hard to find him alone.”

Samuel nodded as if he’d already guessed that. “So Addicock is there when the deed is done.”

“He wouldn’t do it!” repeated Ned. “Squeals when there’s blood. Like a pig.”

“But he would be there. Damon would be sure that he saw. So he wouldn’t tell.”

Ned didn’t answer, just kept shaking his head.

“The rest would be easy. File the will, sell the shop, keep the money. Except he kept saying he hadn’t profited a groat. Not a groat. That’s what stops me. Where did the money go?”

At this point, Ned did look up, a puzzled frown on his face. Then he turned to Penny. “He doesn’t understand about gamblers, does he?”

Penny shrugged. For such a brilliant man, Samuel was remarkably thick about the fact that gamblers
lied
. Not surprisingly, he read her opinion right off her face. Picking up his glass, he glared at them both.

“He was
not
lying.”

“That don’t mean it was
true
,” inserted Ned. “If Addicock doesn’t get coins in his hand, then it doesn’t count. Just canceling out his debt isn’t a real profit for him.”

Samuel stilled, and Penny could see the shock hitting his body. “B-But…” He frowned. “But that isn’t logical! And patently untrue!”

Penny knew he meant that Addicock’s reasoning was untrue, and she gently pushed his ale up toward his mouth. “He’s a gambler, Samuel. What’s real to him and real to us isn’t the same thing.”

The man just shook his head right after taking a long pull. “But real is real.” Fortunately, his mind was then able to leap to the reality of what happened. “So he does take the money but it all goes to cover his debt with the Demon.”

Ned nodded, and Penny saw that he was sinking lower and lower in his chair. It was time, she realized. So she turned to face the boy square on.

“We know what happened, but we don’t have the proof. I know you’re an honest man, Ned. I know you would never be part of something so terrible. Can you find us the proof?”

Samuel, too, pressed forward. “Look for the marriage certificate of her parents. It’s from her Bible, stolen to copy the signature. Look for pages where he practiced the signature. Anything that will help.”

Ned didn’t answer. In truth, his eyes were panicked, his expression as frightened as he was sullen. “I need a job. It ain’t a great livelihood with him, but he does pay. Eventually.”

“From stolen goods.”

“And there are probably others,” Samuel added. “Maybe not before Miss Shoemaker, but a gambler never stops. Not when it works once. Is there some other parent about to be murdered, Ned? We need you to look. We need you to find out.”

Penny touched the boy’s hand. “Please. We’ll help you find another job. A good one that will impress the young lady over there. And won’t she be excited to know that you stood up against a crime? That you helped someone who really, truly needed it. Please—”

“Fine,” Ned cut in, the word half swallowed by his empty glass. “Fine. I’ll look.” Then he abruptly shoved up from the table and slumped away.

No more talking, no more explanation. Just a promise and a hope that he would come through for her. Penny looked after the young man and tried to keep her belief alive. This would work. She would get her home and Tommy’s inheritance back.

Then she felt Samuel’s hand, warm and comforting, surrounding hers. “Either way, you will be fine. Whatever happens, you will survive.”

“I know,” she said softly. And for the first time ever, she believed it. With his hand holding hers, with his strength by her side, she truly believed she had a future. And it could be a good one.

Then he destroyed it.

“Let’s get you home. I’ve got other things to do tonight.”

She gaped at him, all those lovely, half-conscious thoughts of what would happen tonight disappearing in a heartbeat. “But…but what are you going to do?”

“Talk to the constable first. Then there are other directions to investigate.” He smiled. “I’m not relying solely on Ned, you know. I mean to find this Bill.”

She nodded, though she knew nothing of the kind. “But—”

“I will see you tomorrow,” he stated firmly as he dropped what looked like his last coins on the table.

She followed because what else could she do? He was sending her home. They went outside and hailed a hansom cab. She would have been happy to walk, but he shook his head.

“I’m not going with you, and I will worry too much if you are walking alone.”

“But—”

He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a kiss that he kept light when she wanted to deepen it. It was a press of the lips that he refused to make into more.

“I will be worthy of you, Penny. Soon. I swear.”

“Worthy of me? Bugger that!” she snapped, purposely making her words crude. “I’m not some bleeding queen—”

He kissed her again. And this time, he wrapped his arms around her and did what she liked. He thrust his tongue inside, he touched every part of her mouth, and his hands slid down to cup her bottom. It was horribly crass of her, especially as they were standing right beside the cab, not even climbing inside. But when she would have pulled him into the darkness inside the vehicle, he gently set her back on her heels.

“I will not fail you,” he said firmly. Then he gently pushed her into the cab and shut the door. She would have argued, but she could see in his face that his mind was made up.

“Crazy toff!” she accused through the window.

He executed a courtly bow just as the hansom drove off.

“He just left you?” Francine gasped as she sat with
Penny the next afternoon. “He just put you in a carriage and—”

“And I came back here. To make shoes for your wedding.”

“Well!” harumphed her friend.

Penny echoed it and added a sigh for good measure.

“Did he at least kiss you?”

Penny nodded. “And tonight is the ball.”

“Oh, right! The real society ball where you will have the best time!”

Penny closed off the stitching and leaned back to study her handiwork. It was a new pair of slippers for Francine’s future mother-in-law. And it was a right pretty pair, even if she did say so herself. She was especially proud of the ribbon she’d added near the very toe. That had come as an inspiration early this morning, and it looked especially delightful. “Done,” she pronounced, handing the slippers over to her friend. “Can you give them to Anthony to give to his mother?”

“Can you stop worrying about shoes and go get dressed? A real society—”

“Stop saying that!” Penny snapped, turning to the next upper that needed stitches to its sole. Just picking up the leather kept her hands from shaking. She felt secure when she was cobbling. Peaceful and happy. Who at this ball could possibly understand that? She’d be like a fish out of water there. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said, trying to convince herself. “It’s a party. I’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“Not with nobs, you haven’t,” said Francine as she neatly grabbed the shoe parts. “Come on, Penny. Why aren’t you beside yourself with excitement?”

Penny arched her friend a look. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said morosely. “I’m a tradeswoman. I make shoes. I can’t be—”

“You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’ve got a real live gent taking you to a party. Don’t you be thinking you’re less than anybody there. You go and have a good time.”

Penny nodded, but inside, her entire body was depressed. Her heart ached and she nearly broke down in tears. She tried to cover it, but she couldn’t. Francine noticed, and before Penny could say a word, she was wrapped in her friend’s strong arms.

“What’s wrong? Come on. Out with it!”

It took a while before Penny could force the words out. The realization had come on her last night as she climbed into her very cold and very empty bed.

“Something awful has happened,” she whispered. Then before she could change her mind, she looked up at her friend and pushed the words out. “I’ve fallen in love with him!” she cried. Then she burst into tears.

Francine didn’t say anything. Or if she did, Penny didn’t hear it. She just hugged her friend and waited until the storm of tears passed. It did quickly enough. Unlike her anger, Penny’s tears never lasted for long. Then when she had dried her face and blown her nose, Francine fixed her with a hard stare.

“You know, love isn’t something to cry over. Love is a wonderful thing.”

“Not when you’re in love with a nob who won’t even kiss you when you want.”

Francine frowned. “I thought he took you to that dungeon place.”

“He did,” Penny said with a heavy sigh. “But yesterday he was all noble. Talking about being worthy of me.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “The gents have weird ways of thinking. You’re either a street tart to them or the Holy Mother. Seems to me, he’s switched you from a girl he can bed to a girl to wed.”

Penny stared down at her hands. Specifically her left hand, which would likely never sport a wedding ring. “He won’t do either now,” she said. “He’s just a baron’s son, but that’s too high for me and we both know it.”

“Are you sure? He’s only a second son.”

Penny shrugged, her mind twisting itself into knots trying to force herself to hope. But the more she convinced herself it was possible, the more her reason laughed at her. She was clutching at straws. Not only was she a tradesman’s daughter, but worse, she actually
did
the trade. Her hands were rough and covered in scars. She worked long hours, and not at creating a nice home for a man. She had a babe in Tommy to take care of, and no man wanted to raise another man’s son. The reasons piled up in her mind until all hope was extinguished and she was grabbing things to throw at the wall.

She didn’t let them fly, though. She had control of her temper now, thanks to Samuel. Or at least better control now that Samuel had helped her gain some distance from her father’s slights. But the unfairness of the world still ate at her. How dare anyone count her less just because she wanted to do a trade?

“Here now,” said Francine as she gently pried the awl out of Penny’s hand. “You’re jumping to things that might or might not be true.”

“No, I’m not. They’re all—”

“Stop it! I won’t hear another word about it—love or no love, will or won’t marry. It doesn’t matter. You’ve got a party tonight. A ball no less. And you’re being taken to it by a man you love. That’s cause to be happy, and to dress like a queen!”

Penny groaned at that. She didn’t want to be Queen Guinevere. She wanted to be a woman. She opened her mouth to explain, but Francine just shook her head.

“Why do you look to the bad, Penny? You got cause, but really, something wonderful has happened. You’re going to a ball! And with the man you love. Can’t you celebrate that? Can’t you be happy for one night?”

It took a bit for the words to sink in. Longer than it should have taken. After all, she had been happy once. She had gone to parties and enjoyed them. She had been a carefree girl once upon a time. Was it possible for her to remember how to do that again? To remember that she had food and shelter, plus people who loved her? No matter what happened, she and Tommy would survive.

So why not dance for one night? Why not enjoy Samuel’s company for one blissful party? And why not take what pleasure she could with the man she loved? So what if he would never marry her. So what if the thoughts she had were considered sinful. Tonight was for fun. Tonight would be for her and Samuel’s pleasure. No matter what happened tomorrow, she would enjoy herself tonight in whatever ways she could.

“You’re right,” she said firmly.

“Of course I am!” Francine returned. “So come, let’s look at what you’re going to wear.”

Penny shook her head. “No, first I need to find some French letters.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” exclaimed Francine. “Anthony bought a whole tin of them!”

“Good! You must get me one.”

Francine wiggled her eyebrows. “Just one?”