Chapter One #3
Bric put a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, yanking the man back as they headed for the fortified entry of the manse. “The Marshal does not like us to go to that place,” he said. “If he finds out, there will be hell to pay.”
Alexander cast Bric a long look. “He will not know we’ve been there if a certain Irishman keeps his yap shut,” he said.
“I do not intend to engage in anything untoward. Mayhap a bit of gambling. I also have not eaten anything all day and they have the best food in town. If you want to go with Peter and the lady to the inn on Lombard, be my guest. But I am going to The Pox.”
They were out on the street now with a crisp autumn night overhead. The stars were brilliant, like a blanket of diamonds, and the streets were dark enough so that most people were already in for the night.
But Christin didn’t notice. She had been looking forward to a meal and a quiet evening, or perhaps something a little more thrilling considering she didn’t get to London often. Given that there was no excitement in Norwich, Alexander’s comment about The Pox had her attention.
“The Pox,” she said, picking up her skirts so they wouldn’t drag in the mud on the street. “It sounds like a lively place. I think I’ve heard Lord de Winter speak of it, but his wife becomes irritated when he does. It has a bad reputation, doesn’t it?”
Alexander grinned, his big teeth flashing in the dim light. “That depends on who you ask,” he said. “They have beautiful women, excellent food, and any game of chance a man could want for.”
Christin was watching the street, making sure she didn’t step in a smelly puddle. “What about women?”
“I said they had the most beautiful women.”
“That is not what I meant. Are there games of chance for women?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Can a woman play with the men?”
“I have seen a few.”
“Then I want to play.”
Alexander’s smile vanished. “It is no place for you, Lady Christin.”
She looked at him as if his words meant nothing. “Even so, I would like to accompany you. It sounds like an exciting place.”
“The Pox?” Peter said, aghast. “You cannot go there. Papa would eviscerate me if he knew I let you go into that place.”
“He will not know,” Christin said as she looked at her brother. “As long as a certain de Lohr sibling keeps his yap shut.”
Alexander’s words were reflected in her statement and, walking behind them, Bric and Kevin started to laugh. Peter turned, scowling at the pair.
“You think this funny, do you?” he demanded. “If she was your sister, would you find it so funny?”
“If she was my sister, I would throw her over my shoulder and cart her into The Duck and Dribble without delay,” Bric said. “But, then again, my sisters have not learned to kill on command or function in a man’s world. Lady Christin has.”
Peter sighed sharply, looking at his sister. “You may not go to The Pox,” he said. “It is not for you and if you go, I will tell Papa.”
“How are you going to tell him and explain why I was in London in the first place?” Christin asked smoothly. “He will want to know because I am supposed to be safe back at Norwich right now. What will you tell him?”
Peter was licked. He knew that before the conversation ever really got going because what Christin wanted, she got.
That had started in childhood. She was a most determined, cunning, and smart young lady.
With her father’s drive and her mother’s intelligence, it was a combination that had put her where she was now.
Christin had everything she ever wanted, and if she wanted to go to The Pox, Peter knew that, short of binding her to the bed and locking the door for good measure, she would go.
Therefore, this entire conversation was a losing battle. He thought that if she took in her fill of The Pox and saw what a nasty, dirty, corrupt place it was, she would forget all about wanting to play games of chance there.
Perhaps the only thing to do was let her see it.
“Very well,” Peter said, frustrated. “If you want to go, then I will take you. But do not say I didn’t warn you. It is no place for a woman.”
Christin merely grinned at him before turning to Alexander. “Will you lead the way, my lord?”
Alexander looked at her like this was all a very bad idea. “Are you serious? We have explained to you that The Pox is not for a woman of your breeding.”
Christin maintained her smile. She had her father’s grin that saw the ends of her mouth turn up slightly, something very lovely and charming. It had been a gesture that had fooled many a man into thinking she was a sweet and innocent thing.
But that was not the case.
Headstrong didn’t even begin to cover it.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said. “Please do not bother, then. I can find it myself.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed south on the nearest street, one of the smaller alleyways that crisscrossed the city. As she darted down it, Peter ran after her and grabbed her by the arm simply to assert himself as her escort. He wasn’t going to stop her.
With a shrug, Alexander, Bric, and Kevin followed.