Chapter 23 #2
She laughed up at Lucien. He grinned at her, swung her out of Nicholas’s grasp, and into a thorough kiss. The crowd shouted and whistled its approval. Beth was left feeling dizzy and very much wished they were in a more private place.
The crowds thinned as they got closer to Grosvenor Square. There had been riots here earlier in the year over the unpopular Corn Laws but the mob had no reason for anger tonight, no reason to seek out the homes of unpopular ministers and break the windows.
Such a disreputable group as they were gained a few funny looks, but the pavement was still supposed to be free to anyone, and so they strolled along without interference.
Near Deveril’s house they passed Hal and Francis, every inch the gentlemen and apparently chatting while waiting for a friend or a carriage. Francis held up two fingers as they passed. He thought there were two men in the dark house.
They continued to Upper Brook Street, then slipped down the alley to Blackman’s Mews, which ran behind Deveril’s house. It was dark and slimy underfoot.
Nicholas seemed to have a mental map, for he stopped by a path leading up to a house.
“All right,” he said. “You go up first, Blanche, and get in there. They’ll be cautious about opening the door—Deveril was a tough master and they don’t know he’s dead—but they’ll open for you quickly enough.
Keep them distracted and make a lot of noise.
I’ll climb on the roof of the scullery and in the upstairs window.
It shouldn’t take more than a minute or two to do the job.
Lucien and Miles will watch near the kitchen, and Tom will watch back here with Beth. All right?”
Beth grasped her courage and pulled away from Lucien. “I think I should go, too.” She carried on over his protests. “Two on two will be so much easier, and it’s only for a few minutes. Please, Lucien?”
After a moment Lucien sighed. “You’re determined to have your piece of the glory, aren’t you? Go on then.”
Beth recognized the extent of his sacrifice and gave him a hug. Then she followed Blanche up to the back door while Lucien and Miles slipped along behind them.
Lucien whispered, “Scream for help if you need it. Either of you.” Then he and Miles moved off to the side to conceal themselves.
Blanche and Beth could see through a lighted sunken window into the kitchen. Two men were sitting at a table playing with greasy cards and drinking what looked to be a good wine.
“While the cat’s away….” Blanche muttered. “At least there’s no sign of a gun. Ready?”
The men were rough and dirty and reminded Beth of the two men who had accompanied Deveril, but she nodded firmly. “Ready.”
Blanche went down the steps and knocked. They heard a bolt drawn back then the door was opened cautiously by a bearded man with a pistol in his hand. He hadn’t been one of the card players. There were three.
“Yeah?” he grunted.
“Well,” said Blanche in a heavy accent, “is that any welcome for a lady? I’ve a mind to share that bottle of wine, luv.”
The man relaxed and opened the door a little more but also looked carefully out behind them. “Where did you fall from, me angel?”
“Heaven, of course,” said Blanche. “Your master, he ordered us up for your supper, ’andsome.”
The man’s eyes sharpened. “His lordship? You’ve seen him?”
“Yesterday, luv. Look,” Blanche added with a pout, “are you goin’ to let us in? There’s other fish in the sea tonight, you know. In fact, I think we should all go out and join the fun.”
“Can’t, me honey,” the man said, adding with a grin, “but you’ll certainly make a dull time brighter.” He opened the door wide. “Come on in. Hey, lads, come see what his lordship’s sent for us!”
The two men threw down their cards. “Bleeding sight for sore eyes,” said one who was largely without teeth. His eyes seemed to strip the clothes off both of them.
“Too soddin’ right,” said the other, flashing a great many very yellow teeth.
Beth found herself frozen.
Blanche sauntered over to the table, and the two card players stared at her, mesmerized. “Wot a lucky girl I am, then,” she purred, “to have such fine fellows smilin’ at me.”
Beth gathered her wits and quickly entered the kitchen and shut the door. The third man turned and leered at her, putting down his gun. As she’d hoped, he didn’t remember to shoot the bolt again. Lucien could get in if things turned bad.
She smiled at the bearded man, though she feared it came out a bit sickly. “Hello, sweetheart.”
He reached out to grab her, but she sidestepped him. “Don’t I get some wine, ’andsome?”
He grabbed her anyway. “Pay a kiss for it,” he said.
His mouth was slack and wet and sour. Beth was sure he wasn’t as foul as Lord Deveril, but she could quite see how Clarissa had thrown up her breakfast. She commanded her rebellious stomach to be still and writhed about as if she were enjoying it.
She hoped Lucien couldn’t see this, or he’d be fit to kill.
When the man’s mouth freed hers, he chuckled.
“You’re a proper spicy dish, aren’t yer, me little molisher?
Come on, Pepper, and have your wine. There’s plenty more where that came from.
” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to the table where Blanche was skillfully playing one man off against the other with much shrieking and banging about.
Was Nicholas inside? Just to do her bit, Beth staggered and knocked over a stool.
Her escort pulled her straight. “You’re well on the go already, ain’t yer?” He thrust the bottle at her. “Have some more.”
They needed to play for time. “Well,” said Beth with false refinement, “hi ham more haccustomed to drink from hay glass, sir.”
Blanche shrieked with laughter. “Right spark, she is. We call her ‘the duchess!’”
All the men roared, and the black bearded one casually tweaked one of Beth’s nipples.
Fortunately he took Beth’s outraged squeal as part of her act.
“Right away, Yer Grace. The best crystal, do yer?” To Beth’s horror he went out of the room to get it.
Was he going upstairs? Nicholas was up there somewhere. She ran after him.
The man turned, then grinned knowingly. “So that’s yer game, Duchess. Yer a smart one and no mistake. Fancy a nice comfy bedroom, do yer? Come on, then.”
Beth glanced around frantically. They were at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the ground floor, and the wall was lined with shelves holding bowls and pots.
The noise from the kitchen was deadened by the closed door.
She could hear nothing from above. Nicholas must surely be in, which was the noisy part. If necessary she’d break some pottery.
“I think I’d better go back to me sister.” she said coyly. “She’ll get awful jealous.”
“Let her, Pepper. Perhaps I’ll give her a turn upstairs, too. Come on.” He grabbed her wrist in a beefy paw.
“Let go!” Beth squealed. She suddenly remembered that they weren’t supposed to go upstairs and dug in her heels.
“Wot the hell’s up wiv you?” the man growled. “Don’t you play off your airs and graces wiv Tom Cross, Duchess.” He yanked her to him, turned her over his knee, and landed two stinging blows on her behind, which her flimsy skirts did little to cushion. Beth saw red.
“You disgusting man!” she shrieked as soon as she was upright. She grabbed at the shelves. The first thing that came to hand was a small iron skillet. She crowned him with it with all her might. His eyes crossed, and he collapsed down at the base of the stairs.
“Bravo!” declared Nicholas from the top of the stairs. “I was beginning to think you’d need rescuing.”
“I rescued myself,” said Beth, aware of a flicker of pride. She rubbed her behind and rearranged her bodice. “Are you finished?”
“Yes. I’ll give Lucien the signal and you can get out of here.”
“What about him?” asked Beth, pointing to her victim. “Won’t he spoil the plan?”
“No, he won’t be surprised to find you crowned him. But he won’t keep long either. Get on your way.” He disappeared back to the upper reaches.
Beth put on a brazen face and sauntered back into the kitchen. Blanche was on the toothy man’s knee, feeding him wine from the bottle. The other man was hovering impatiently. He turned quickly. “Where’s Tom?” He wasn’t so much suspicious as wary of poaching on the other man’s property.
“Gone to get me a glass, of course,” said Beth saucily. The man came at her. Beth backed up. She really couldn’t take another mauling kiss. She looked around for a weapon—
Lucien and Miles burst in. “Wot the hell you doing, Molly?” Lucien roared, grabbing Beth.
Blanche leapt off the toothy man’s knee with an impressive squeal of fear. “Help!” she cried. She tried to hide behind the toothless one, but he didn’t look keen to fight.
“Who’re these then?” he asked.
“We’re the ones wot say where they go and who they go with, that’s who,” snarled Lucien. He dragged Beth towards the door. “I’ll give you wot for when I get you home!”
Beth started to wail. Miles grabbed Blanche without hindrance from either of her would-be swains. As they got to the door, Beth saw the pistol Tom had put down and grabbed it. Then they were out.
As they ran through the back yard towards the mews, there was a roared obscenity. “No little drap’s going to do fer me!”
“Tom!” Beth gasped and thrust the pistol into Lucien’s hands.
“What have you been up to?” he drawled as he quickly checked it. A glance back showed the three guards in the doorway.
“Come on!” whispered Nicholas.
They all ran into the mews, heading for the exit into Upper Brook Street where Tom Holloway was waiting with a carriage in case they needed a quick escape. A carriage entered the mews from that direction.
“Hell,” muttered Nicholas.
They looked back. Deveril’s bullies were coming into the mews and at least one had a pistol. With a curse, Nicholas flattened himself against the wall out of sight. Lucien waved the pistol, and the men hesitated.