Read Barbara Metzger Online

Authors: The Wicked Ways of a True Hero (prc)

Barbara Metzger (17 page)

 

 

Is that what you are waiting for before choosing a bride, Susanna asked, a lightning stroke?

 

 

No, I am waiting for you to become another mans headache.

 

 

Now Corie felt like pounding something, too, but not the desk. That wasnt as hard as Daniel Stamfields thick skull. Thats outrageous.

 

 

I think so, too. I thought Id have this whole mares nest cleaned up by now, but Ive come to see it takes a bit more thought.

 

 

But you . . . you are deciding for me? For us?

 

 

No such thing. Im only giving you all a bit of breathing room. You wouldnt want chaps falling to one knee everywhere you went. Embarrassing for everyone, thats what my mother said. And dangerous. Someone might trip over one of the moonlings.

 

 

You already said no?

 

 

I said they could call again after Almacks. Youll tell me which chap you want, and Ill take him aside and ask his intentions. After Dobbson and Deauville confer with his servants about his finances and his character, of course. They both assure me thats how its done.

 

 

Corie collapsed onto a nearby chair, overwhelmed.

 

 

Daniel turned toward his sister. I cant say Id be best pleased if you settled on Clarence, though, puss.

 

 

Dont be silly, Daniel. I am not going to marry anyone yet. Or Clarence ever. But you think to have us betrothed in two weeks? Why, I intend to dance every dance with every available gentleman, until there are no more.

 

 

Daniel groaned. That could take months!

 

 

She grinned at him. You might have to purchase a new pair of evening shoes. Deauville will have you carrying a quizzing glass yet. Dont you think hed look magnificent, Corie?

 

 

Corie thought he looked like a monster, with his black hair falling over his forehead, sitting in his shirt-sleeves like some stone giant behind his vast desk. Who did he think he was, discouraging her suitors before she had a chance to weigh them? What if the cabbageheads were like him, wanting to settle on a bride and go back to their comfortable lives in two weeks? Two weeks could see them select a different woman, one who did not require courting or cotillions. The newspapers were already full of betrothal announcements. Oh, how she hated Daniel Stamfield. The man was determined to ruin her life!

 

 

She opened her mouth to tell the ogre what she thought of his high-handed, overbearing, idiotic ways, but Susanna started first.

 

 

So will you speak with Clarence? He is in a fret, and I did not know what to tell him. I think he is embarrassed to ask you, so I said I would.

 

 

If his problem is that personal, he should speak to a clergyman, or a physician. I warned him to stay away from the orange sellers at Drury Lane.

 

 

Daniel, it is nothing like that!

 

 

Very well, send him in. I am sick of going over the accounts and the reports from Stamfield, anyway. Mother is better at it than I am, but she and that governess of yours, Susannawhat is her name? Miss Reynolds?are always gadding about the shops and museums with Lord Morgan. And no, I will not accept an offer from him yet, either.

 

 

I should hope not, Susanna said, wrinkling her nose. His linen is not clean and he smells of smoke. And he wheezes.

 

 

Daniel shrugged. Mother seems to enjoy his company. Theres no accounting for tastes. Speaking of which, send in your beau, Sukey, and well see what trouble the bacon-brain found for himself.

 

 

Lord, if the fool fathered another brat, Daniel thought, hed see him gelded.

 

 

This was different. Clarence had a voucher in his hand, an IOU written out to Jeremy Babcock. Clarence was scarlet-faced, but he placed it on the desk in front of Daniel.

 

 

Daniel whistled when he looked down and saw the amount. Now, thats flying too high, my lad. Youve got, what? Eight sisters in Ipswich depending on you. He tapped the ledger in front of him. Bringing out one of them is deuced expensive.

 

 

Clarence turned redder, if that was possible, and hung his head. Thats five sisters, and I do know my responsibilities, sir.

 

 

Good. Daniel hoped one of those responsibilities was the female carrying Clarences babe. Can you make the payment? Gentlemen usually give a debt of honor a month, but I know Jeremy is hard-pressed these days. Hes asked me for a loan. He frowned. Thats not why youre here, is it? He tapped the ledgers. Im no banker, you know, and this nonsense of having three women loose on Bond Street is making inroads.

 

 

Corie sat up at that. You are supposed to be keeping a record of my purchases so I can repay them.

 

 

Daniel shuffled some papers. Um, yes, that page must be here somewhere. Then he rubbed his ear.

 

 

Susanna nodded to Clarence, who tried to square his narrow shoulders. I can pay my debts. Ill have to sell some investments and give up my rooms in Town and go home. My mother will be disappointed in me, but a gentleman always plays and pays, as they say.

 

 

Daniel told him he had the right of it. A loss at the tables is considered a debt of honor, and not a bad lesson to learn, either. At least youre not in the hands of the cent-per-centers, who will bleed you dry with the interest they charge.

 

 

No, I know better than to get involved with them.

 

 

Then what is the problem? Dashed if I can see anything I can advise you on this. If you need more time, talk to Jeremy.

 

 

Clarence stared at his feet until Susanna cleared her throat and told him to go on. The thing is, he said, I dont recall losing so heavily. I never bet beyond whats in my pocket, like you told me. I think I fell asleep, so how could I sign a voucher like this?

 

 

Being foxed doesnt excuse the debt. You ought to know better than to play when your heads all muddled.

 

 

No, I wasnt drunk. At least I dont think so. Susanna convinced me not to drink so much, you know.

 

 

My sister? The one who had so much wine last night I had to carry her out of the carriage?

 

 

Daniel!

 

 

Clarence nobly defended his friend. Shes not used to spirits, is all. She told me to look at Jeremy and his uncle, and see what drink can do to a man.

 

 

Daniel shoved his glass of cognac, his first of the day, to the edge of the desk. Hed been looking at Lord Morgan and Jeremy Babcock, too, and drinking far less than usual. It was half for the sake of his mother and sister, that they not have to see him being carried in by two footmen. The other half was because he didnt want to end up like a lonely old drunk or a ruined gambler.

 

 

Clarence didnt want to, either. I shouldnt wish to grow as hard as Jeremy, or all red-nosed like his uncle.

 

 

Clarence has all those sisters to set a good example for, you know, Susanna put in.

 

 

If that is a hint, I have not stayed out all night drinking since you came. I havent passed out once, unlike your friend. And I never did fall unconscious during a high-stakes card game.

 

 

But I wasnt drinking, I say, Clarence insisted. And I dont play for that kind of money, truly. The thing is, I dont think its my signature.

 

 

Daniel stared at him. Be careful what you are saying, because it sure as Hades sounds like you think Jeremy Babcock slipped something into your drink, then forged your signature while you were asleep. Is that what you meant to imply?

 

 

I cannot be certain. Thats why I didnt say anything to him. I know an accusation like that would be cause for a duel. Ive never shot at a man, nor ever learned how to fence. And theres my mother and the girls to think of. How would they go on without me? Most of all, I have no proof.

 

 

Corie came to investigate the scrap of paper. She pulled another sheet from a pad on Daniels desk. Write your signature.

 

 

Clarence did, and they looked similar.

 

 

They are close enough to be a match, Corie decided, especially if you were inebriated at the time.

 

 

Susanna got insulted on Clarences behalf and said, He said he wasnt. I believe him.

 

 

Sick, then, or sleepy.

 

 

He hadnt been any of those things, Clarence swore, and now Daniel believed him, too.

 

 

Its a dilemma, all right. Daniel picked up the papers to compare the two signatures at closer range. The moment he touched the gambling chit, his fingertips started to tingle, the same way they had with Cories diamonds. Something just felt wrong; that was the only way he could explain it.

 

 

But he couldnt explain it, not to this audience. He wished Lord Royce were here, or Rex, even Harry, to see what they thought about the situation. If he was right . . .

 

 

He tore off small squares of paper. He looked around and of course noticed Cories yellow muslin gown again. Daffodil yellow. Springtime yellow. Sunshine.

 

 

What are you doing? Susanna wanted to know.

 

 

Daydreaming. He shook his head and said, Everyone write I am wearing a yellow gown.

 

 

Clarence protested. Dash it, I am not writing that!

 

 

Very well, everyone write I am wearing gloves.

 

 

Corie blushed. She was the only one wearing any.

 

 

Go on. Its an experiment.

 

 

They did, and tossed the three scraps into a pile. Daniel picked them up one by one. This one is Cories, Miss Abbotts, that is.

 

 

Silly, youve been calling her Corie for days, if not in public. But Daniel, you know my handwriting, and youve just seen Clarences.

 

 

Ah, but both of them wrote lies, and his fingertips knew it! He felt no itch, no rash, but he knew which was true! Neither Rex nor Harry could do that. They needed to hear words, not see them on a piece of paper. He almost scooped Corie into a jig around the room. He was better at something than his cousins, finally.

 

 

He tried to hide his grin by saying Susanna was right; it was a foolish experiment that proved nothing. Ill go ask some questions. He could discern the truth in the answers, but that wouldnt count as evidence. He couldnt confront Jeremy Babcock on a tingle or an itch, not even if he claimed it was intuition. Where were you gaming? Someone might have seen something. Or recall what you were served, by what waiter.

 

 

McCanns. They are supposed to be honest.

 

 

They are. Id bank my life on that. Cousin Harry always did. If something is crooked there, its Babcock, not the place.

 

 

What shall I do in the meantime?

 

 

Stay away from the tables, the bottles, and Babcock. Especially Babcock until Ive had a chance to look into this. Jupiter, you are here half the time, anyway. You might as well take your meals here, and go to whatever evening entertainment were attending. I hate being the only male escort, anyway. Or you can go in my stead. Thats the ticket! Ill straighten out this hugger-mugger, and you get to go to Lady Clutterbanks musicale. Her daughter plays the harp. And sings. It couldnt be better.

 

 

Susanna kissed his cheek and Clarence pumped his hand far more than necessary, out of gratitude.

 

 

Do not thank me. I havent pulled your chestnut out of the fire yet. Besides, I should be thanking you. Daniel couldnt wait to do more experimenting, to see what his clever fingers could do.

 

 

For escorting the ladies to the musicale?

 

 

That, too.

 

 

I dont understand.

 

 

Neither do I, but trust me, its fine. Excellent, in fact. I can feel it in my bones. He laughed, and Susanna and Clarence smiled.

 

 

Corie looked at the glass on his deskassuredly not his first, and breakfast hardly overand shook her head. Daniel Stamfield was kind to help the younger man, but he was still a drunk. And dense. And the devil incarnate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

D
aniel was good at asking questions, not so good at receiving wrong answers. As a result, he seldom got liesnot twice, anyway. His size alone scared most strangers into true replies, and his reputation did the rest. Luckily, no one at McCanns Club had anything to hide.

 

 

Harrison, the manager, was incensed anyone would use his premises to pluck a tender young pigeon. The clubs success depended on the integrity of its dealers and the honesty of its bank. If patrons were drugged, robbed, or swindled, if the cards were marked, the dice weighted, the wine diluted, thered be no customers.

 

 

Mr. Harrison did not ask how Daniel knew. If Stamfield said a signature was wrong, then it was wrong. After all, Daniels cousin Harry was like a brother to him, and half owner of the club, besides. Harryd come to the Harrisons as a toddler, when his opera dancer mother passed on, so they knewand protectedthe family secret. The club manager had also protected and sheltered Harrys spy network before Harry retired as the Aide.

 

 

Now all he did was ask a favor. An experiment, if you will. Weve been having a bit of a problem collecting some debts.

 

 

Daniel stretched his fingers. Harrison took a pile of bank drafts from a locked drawer in his desk, and another, smaller stack of check payments from a different drawer. He shuffled the papers and handed them over without giving a clue as to his concerns. Harrison tried to offer Daniel a magnifying lens, too, so he could read the signatures better, but Daniel shook his head.

Other books

Providence by Cocca, Lisa Colozza
Bladesinger by Strohm, Keith Francis
Need You Now (Love in Unknown) by Lunsford, Taylor M.
THE (tlpq-4) by Daniel Abraham
The Soldier by Grace Burrowes
The Greek Myths, Volume 1 by Robert Graves
Losing Control by Jen Frederick
Ollie Always by John Wiltshire


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024