Never Trust a Pirate (Scandal at the House of Russell 2) - Page 4

“You don’t like women,” Luca said unnecessarily.

“Aye. They’re nothing but trouble and I’ve got no use for them.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Like when am I going to get properly fed?”

“Miss Haviland told Mrs. Crozier you weren’t to be served dinner until eight o’clock of an evening. You maybe have something light for luncheon, and tea and watercress sandwiches at teatime.”

“And who hires Mrs. Crozier and pays her and her husband’s wages?”

“You do. Which should give you a little hint that your sweet

little fiancée isn’t the angelic creature you think she is.”

Luca laughed. “I don’t believe in angelic creatures. If you think Gwendolyn’s sweet ways fool me for one moment then you forget we’ve been together for twenty years. It’s a business arrangement, whether she realizes it or not.”

“Oh, aye,” said Billy. “Then where’s your food?”

Luca felt his stomach rumble. “In the kitchen, I expect.” He rose, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Mrs. Crozier is a terrible housekeeper and her husband’s a lazy drunk,” Billy said, pushing his massive bulk to his feet. “And her cooking isn’t much better, but at least it means I don’t have to cook for myself. You’re bloody well right I’m coming. Besides, I’ve got a word or two to say to the old witch about the state of this house.”

“Wait till after we eat,” Luca suggested. “Besides, I believe she’s hired a new maid, so things should be improving.”

“Another woman in the household,” Billy said dourly. “Things can only get worse.”

“You’re prejudiced. In fact, let’s not get in Mrs. Crozier’s way. If she’s been listening to Gwendolyn then there’s no telling what she might serve us. I think the Crown and Rose near the docks would give us a much better meal.”

“You’re on, mate,” Billy said. “It’s too good a day to be indoors, though I’d rather be out at sea. When is the Maddy Rose coming?”

“Soon.” It was nothing more than the truth. “Lunch today, and a long sail as soon as she gets here.”

“She’s a grand old boat,” Billy said wistfully.

“Only five years old,” Luca reminded him. “But you’re right. She’s the closest I ever intend to get to loving a woman. If I had a heart it would be pledged to the Maddy Rose.”

“Amen,” said Billy solemnly.

CHAPTER TWO

GETTING HERSELF READY FOR her new life as a maidservant cum spy was a bit more trouble than Maddy had expected. Mr. Fulton was aggrieved to be seen driving into the dockside town of Devonport with a servant by his side, particularly one he judged as far too pretty to be credible. Maddy knew better. People didn’t actually look at their servants. As long as she kept her shoulders hunched and her face lowered the ancient captain would pay no attention to her at all.

Mr. Fulton hadn’t liked dropping her off near High Street, but she was hardly going to show up at her new position in a fancy carriage, for all that Matthew was supposedly the source of the captain’s new employee. She needed to do this alone, and she needed time to get in the proper state of mind. A nice long walk to Water Street would be just the thing, and Maddy planned to make good use of the time. It was astonishing how different a place was when you were walking on the streets, rather than viewing life from a carriage or the back of a horse. After their fall from grace six months ago, walking rather than riding in the poorer parts of London had come as quite a shock to her system, cushioned as she’d been.

Actually walking through the streets had been overwhelming and invigorating. In the past, while Bryony stayed secluded in the countryside and Sophie rollicked through the season, playing one beau against the other, Maddy had always had an unfortunate fascination with the real world, with the workings of her father’s business, with politics, with investments. Unfeminine interests that she kept to herself, though her father had understood and even encouraged her. It was always accepted that she was destined for a great marriage—the value of her face and her dowry were indisputable, and her dead mother had been the daughter of a baronet, almost wiping out her father’s less than stellar pedigree.

But everything had ended with her father’s disgrace and death. At least, the easy part had ended, as well as her relationship with Jasper Tarkington, who was now as far away from her as he could manage, somewhere in the depths of South America. She hoped a jaguar ate him.

She was still planning on a great marriage, dowry or no. She was up to any challenge, and her goal was clear. A title and a fortune. Clearing her father’s name was simply the first step toward achieving that goal. If, in the end she failed, Lord Eastham was always an option. But she didn’t intend to fail.

She felt curious eyes on her, and she suddenly realized she’d been striding along, head up, shoulders back, her valise swinging in her hand. She resisted the impulse to look around her as she slowed her pace, almost imperceptibly. She should be nearing the quay by now, but instead she seemed to have wandered into a less prosperous area of town. The stink of garbage, horse dung, and dead fish was high on the midday air, and she wished she dared fumble in her reticule for a handkerchief to hold to her nose. Maids didn’t hold their noses—they emptied slop jars and scrubbed the most disgusting things. Nanny Gruen had warned her there was no place for her so-called airs.

The streets had become darker, narrower, and she’d somehow lost her way. Up ahead she could see the brightness of sunlight, and she sped up, trying to force herself not to break into a run. She’d been careless while she’d been busy thinking. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes like this.

She moved around the corner, into the sunlight, and froze. Despite the patch of light she now stood in, the rest of the alleyway was shrouded in shadows. The stench was even worse, and she realized with a sinking feeling that a new smell had joined the others. That of unwashed human flesh.

There were three of them blocking the other end of the narrow alley, and she blinked, staring at them. Nothing to be afraid of, she told herself. They were just sailors home on shore leave, out for a bit of fun. They’d leave her alone if she told them to.

“Look at ’er, will ya?” one of them said. “What a pretty little bit of fluff to come our way. What should we do with her, boys?”

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