Chapter Two #2
“I wanted to, but Jamie insisted on accompanying me. I tried to explain that was not how it is done. I told him a lady makes morning rounds simply to leave her card with the butler, not actually expecting to see the person in question. He snorted at that, calling it a waste of good time. I tried telling him—with extreme patience—the card was merely a way of letting friends know I would be receiving.” Jamie had given her a strange look and asked what she expected to receive, if she wanted something he could go get it for her.
Mari had summoned a last shred of patience from somewhere and told him receiving was a custom to which one must strictly adhere, and that she would be perfectly safe with the driver and Effie.
Jamie’s jaw had squared in a way Mari was finding all too familiar. Either he accompanied her, or she did not go.
“So I sent Dobbs around in my place,” Mari finished.
“Oh.” Maddie frowned slightly and then smiled. “I am sure no one will take that as a slight. It does take several days to adjust to Town’s schedule.”
“I hope everyone understands,” Mari said. The ton was not exactly known to be benevolent, especially when it came to courtesies. She simply had to make contact personally. Hmmm. Jamie had gone to talk with the man Givens had found to ride north. She tilted her head and studied Maddie.
Her friend smiled. “What is it? Your face tells me you are up to something.”
“Is your driver still here?” Mari asked.
“Yes. He is probably in the kitchen with Effie and my maid enjoying a spot of tea. Why?”
“I could use a new bonnet,” Mari replied. “The shops should be opening. Do you want to go?”
“Oh, yes. It has been ages since I have shopped.” Maddie stood. “I will just gather the maids and have the driver bring the carriage around.”
Mari smiled as she went to get her wrap. A leisurely stroll along Bond Street would be just the thing to let everyone know she was in Town, just in case her calling cards had been misplaced. She really would hate to miss Lady Tindale’s party.
“What do you mean, the lass went shopping?” Jamie had gotten no farther than the foyer before he sensed Mari was not here. He scowled at Givens who blanched but managed not to retreat. “Did ye nae remember me saying the lass should nae go out without me?”
The butler adjusted his jacket, lifted his chin and stared at a space past Jamie’s shoulder. “Miss Barclay and Miss Winslow decided they needed new bonnets, sir. Their maids accompanied them.”
“Mrs. Stokely gave them permission to go?” Jamie thought Mari’s aunt had more sense than that. After all, she was the one who suggested he stay here.
Givens’s gaze faltered. “Mrs. Stokely had business to attend to at the boarding house this morning.”
Jamie groaned. Fine protection two unarmed maids would make.
Did the wee vixen not understand the danger that lurked in this sooty city?
Apart from not knowing where Alton was hiding, London was filled with street ruffians, petty thieves and swindling scoundrels, not to mention the barmy scum who lurked around the docks.
Jamie hated the docks. His cousin, Shane, owned a shipping line.
Jamie had worked as crew enough times to know what drunken sailors on shore leave looked for.
True, there were doxies to be had, but abducting aristocratic ladies for ransom was a lucrative income, especially if the ship’s captain was a blackguard himself and shared the profits.
Jamie would never forget trying to rescue a lady from a dozen thugs right here in London nearly six years ago. Shane had found him unconscious in an alley the next morning. The girl had disappeared.
Those ladies did nae return to their families as innocents.
Bloody Hell—an English term that Jamie had grown quite fond of—Mari Barclay was going to cause him grey hairs before his time. Jamie rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a nagging headache coming on. Or maybe it was a nagging thought about the little vixen he was supposed to protect.
Jamie retrieved his claymore from behind the coat rack and strapped it to his back as Givens’s eyes widened to saucers. Checking to make sure he had both his sgian dubh in his boot and a dirk in his belt, Jamie turned and stormed out the door.
Wesley Alton stepped back into the shadows of a shop entryway, hardly able to believe his luck.
Marissa Barclay strolled with a friend not half a block away.
He had not expected her in Town until after Christmas, but he could move his plans up easily enough.
Wesley had already dispensed a missive to his son in France, whom he’d always thought a rather unfortunate accident.
He’d sired his bastard son shortly after he’d been sent to the continent at the tender age of fourteen years by his cold-hearted, sadistic father.
The boy was seventeen now—or perhaps eighteen—Wesley hadn’t really kept up with Nicholas or Richard, another brat spawned before Wesley had learned about using lambskins to keep from having by-blows.
He scratched the beard he’d grown and adjusted the fake spectacles.
He hated both as much as he hated powdering his hair and letting it grow to an unfashionable length.
Wesley smiled bitterly. The last thing he needed to worry about was fashion since he could hardly make an appearance at White’s or Brooke’s or any of the social events, for that matter.
At least not until the furor about his escape died down.
For now, he would have to live in second-rate establishments near the docks on London’s east side.
If his plan worked, he’d be a wealthy landowner in France within a few months.
All Nicholas had to do was court Marissa Barclay, set her up in a compromising position and then demand a large dowry for accepting spoiled goods.
Once they had the money, Wesley and Nicholas would be gone, leaving the chit standing at the altar.
If that didn’t work, abduction for ransom was always an option. His accomplices, Louis and Jean, could handle that without exposing him.
The Cantford and Newburn estates were worth a great deal of money. He had no doubt the damned Highlander would pay either the dowry or the ransom. No doubt at all.
Maybe he could arrange for both.
Wesley stepped out of the dim entry, adjusted the frayed collar on his worn top coat and followed discreetly behind the two unsuspecting girls.