"So that no one else can." Oh dear, that didn't sound very good at all. "I mean, I am willing to suffer the consequences of my actions and marry her at the first opportunity."
"Suffer the consequences?" The boy was nearly foaming at the mouth, but visibly forced himself to calm down. "What of love?"
"Love?" Radcliffe was nonplussed by the question. "Well, I do not" He paused there, frowning slightly, for he had been about to say that he did not think it an issue at the moment, besides his feelings were most confused on the subject.
One moment he would look at Elizabeth and feel heat and desire and she seemed the most exciting creature he had ever met. Then the next time he saw her she would seem quiet and reticent, and he would feel nothing but a slight avuncular affection. His reactions to the boy before him were just as confusing. "I do not"
The boy turned away at those words, paling.
Shaking his head, Radcliffe gave up attempting to sort out his feelings.
"My feelings are not at issue here. What happened last night is. Should I not many her, your sister will be ruined or forced to marry Carland. Do I have your permission to marry her, or not?"
"Oh, by all means," Charlie sighed, sounding almost bitter. "Marry my sister If she will have you. I couldn't care less."
Frowning at his tone of voice, Radcliffe hesitated, then turned toward the door.
Now he would have to talk to Elizabeth. Mayhap he should go collect the engagement ring first. Aye, a capital idea. This had to be done properly.
He would collect the ring, have Mrs. Hartshair make a special dinner "I have something I must do. Do not tell your sister. I wish to tell her myself."
"As you wish," Charlie murmured as the door closed behind Radcliffe, then whipped off the wig furiously with one hand, using the other to half-shrug, half-tug off her shirt as she turned away from the door. Radcliffe had not left a moment too soon, she saw. Her bindingsas sloppily as she had donned them in her hastewere half-undone and quickly unraveling.
Grimacing, she tugged the last of the bindings away and tossed them after the robe, only to stiffen as a gasp sounded. Lifting her gaze slowly, she stared at the girl frozen in the connecting door between rooms, her wide eyes taking in Charlie half-in and half-out of her disguise.
"Bessie." Charlie took a step toward her and the girl turned and fled.
Cursing, she was after her at once, following her into "Elizabeth's" room. Seeing that she was fleeing for the door, Charlie chargedforward leaping onto the bed and running right over it in an effort to reach the door first. She slammed against the door just as Bessie started to tug it open, her weight forcing it closed with a crack like thunder. Bessie fell away atonce, shock and fear on her face as she stumbled backward across the room.
" 'Tis all right, Bessie. I am not going to hurt you," Charlie murmured reassuringly, her gaze dancing between the girl and the room until she spied Elizabeth's robe lying across the foot of the bed. She moved quickly to grab it, and Bessie danced skittishly away from her, her eyes darting nervously around for some escape. Sighing impatiently, Charlie donned the robe and ripped at the ribbon that held her hair at her back, then brushed some of it forward before facing the girl once more. " 'Tis all right, Bessie," she repeated on a sigh.
"See?"
"Nay, I'm not seein'," Bessie cried unhappily, but she stopped moving and focused on Charlie now. "What's going on? Which are ye? The brother or the sister?"
"Both," Charlie answered truthfully with a wry smile, then sighed again as she saw she had only confused the girl further. "I am Charlie."
As impossible as it seemed, the girl's eyes widened more and she shook her head a bitwildly. "Nay. Yer not. Ye've bosoms. I saw them."
"Aye, well, that is because I am a girl. Charlie is short for Charlotte. I was just pretending to be a boy to" She paused and took a step to the side, blocking the path to the door when Bessie started in that direction again.
Bessie paused at once, but it was obvious she would flee at any moment.
"Bessie, I am the same Charlie that rescued you from that room at Aggie's. Do you not think you at least owe me the chance to explain?"
The girl swallowed at that, uncertainty covering her face as she peered longingly at the door; then she sighed unhappily and gave one small nod.
"Good." Charlie offered her a gentle smile, then gestured to the small table by the window. "Why do we not sit down so that I can explain everything?"
Bessie looked doubtful, but moved to perch on one of the two seats at the table, eyeing Charlie warily as she followed and claimed the other seat.
"You see," Charlie began promptly, not surprised when as her story progressed, Bessie's suspicious expression was replaced by surprise, concern, then sympathetic murmurings. She told the servant everything. Well, almost everything. She kept back any mention of the blackmailer and her less respectable moments with Radcliffe. By the time she was finished, the girl was eyeing her with admiration.
"Yer so brave. To have dressed up as a lad and fled your uncle." She shook her head in wonder, but Charlie smiled wryly and reached out to pat her hand.
"No more brave than you, Bessie. You may not have dressed up as a lad, but you did travel all the way to the city alone to seek employment."
"Oh, aye. But just look how that turned out. Aggie fooling me in to" She paused suddenly, her eyes wide with realization. "You were in a brothel! Oh, my lord. A lady in a brothel!"
"Shh," Charlie hissed nervously, afraid of their being overheard. "That was Radcliffe's idea. He thought I was too umm feminine and thought to make a 'man' out of me." Amusement tugged at her lips as she admitted that Bessie's eyes widened further. "Lord Radcliffe doesn't know that yer a girl?"
"Nay. No one knows but you." She sighed, then added under her breath to herself, "And the blackmailer."
"Blackmailer!" Bessie nearly screeched the word, her face a picture of honor, and Charlie grimaced. The girl's hearing was amazing.
"Aye. Well," she murmured, then quickly explained about the letters they had received, the botched payoff attempt, and the last letter that had warned them to get the money together and be prepared, that they would hear from the blackmailer again today. "I did not tell Beth before she left. She would just worry."
"Aye, she would have," Bessie agreed, then glanced nervously toward a tray on the table, murmuring, "Today, ye say?"
"Aye." Charlie followed her gaze, eyebrows rising at the rolled-up scroll that lay on the tray. It was secured with a blood-red ribbon. "What is that?"
she asked warily. "Where did it come from?"
"It arrived just ere I came upstairs," Bessie admitted anxiously. "A young street urchin delivered it. He said it was urgent one o' ye get it right away."
Charlie stared at the scroll, suddenly torn. Part of her wanted to snatch up the scroll, read the instructions, and follow them to get the whole thing finally over with. Another part was suddenly flooded with foreboding. Shrugging the dark feeling away, she reached for the scroll and silently undid the ribbon, very aware of Bessie's worried gaze as sheread it.
"What is it?" Bessie asked when she suddenly cursed.
Tossing the scroll impatiently on the table, Charlie stood and began to pace.
"His plan requires the two of us to be there."
"You and I?" Bessie asked with shock, and Charlie shook her head impatiently.
"Nay, Elizabeth and I. We have to" She paused suddenly and turned to stare at the maid, her mind working furiously.
Bessie sat back, her expression waiy. "Why are ye looking at me that way?"
Chapter Fifteen
"My, you make a lovely lady," Mrs. Hartshair murmured, stepping back from her handiwork with pride. "Doesn't she, m'lord? I mean, m'lady."
Charlie smiled slightly at the woman's expression The cook had even more trouble accepting the fact that Charles was really a Charlotte than Bessie had.
It had taken Charlie an hour to convince Bessie to assist her. The girl really had a horrid aversion to the idea of impersonating a lady. In the end it was guilt that had got her to agree. Desperate by that point, Charlie had shaken her head in feigned sadness and murmured that she could not believe what an ungrateful wretch she was and after all she, Charlie, had done forher.
Miserable, Bessie had caved in and agreed to do what was necessary. By that time, however, they had been left with only moments to prepare, and Charlie had reluctantly decided the cook had to be taken into confidence and put upon to help them.
"Aye," Charlie murmured now in response to the cook's comment. "She is quite lovely. 'Tis no wonder Aggie wanted her to work for her." Bessie made a face at that, and Charlie grinned as she tied off the thread she had used to sew a veil to one of "Elizabeth's" hats, then broke the thread and set the needle aside as she stood. "Here you are. The final touch to your disguise."
Taking the hat, Bessie donned it while Charlie moved to the table and slid the paper with the address into her pocket.
"How is this?" Bessie asked, drawing her attention again.
"Perfect." Charlie grinned with relief at the way the hat and veil completely disguised Bessie's hair color and facial features. "And now we have to go."
Turning, she opened the door and started out, Bessie on her heels, but Ms.
Hartshair chased after them anxiously. "How long shall you be?"
Charlie paused on the landing and frowned over the question. "I am not sure,"
she admitted, then sighed impatiently. "We should not be long. We will be back within the hour, before noon at the latest."
The Cock and Bull was a decidedly seedy establishment. Charlie and Bessie eyed it from the confines of the carriage, then glanced at each other. At least Charlie thought Bessie was looking at her. It was hard to see her eyes through the veil she wore.
"You are sure this is where the note said to go?" Bessie asked unhappily.
"Aye," Charlie sighed.
"What are we supposed to do now?"
"We are to go in and book a room under the name"Charlie pulled the note out of her pocket and checked it"Pigeon," she muttered wryly, then glanced back out the window at the shabby exterior of the building. "I suppose we had best get this over with."
"Aye." Bessie sounded less than enthusiastic about it, and Charlie gave her a reassuring smile.
" 'Twill all be over in a jiffy, and when it is, I shall buy you a fine new gown of your own as a thank you."
"That won't be necessary, my lady. As you pointed out earlier, you have done quite a lot for me already and I would hate to have any more to have to pay you back for."
Charlie glanced away guiltily, then sighed. "I am sorry, Bessie. I never should have blackmailed you so. If-if you do not wish to accompany me inside, you could just wait in the carriage and" She paused at a disgusted snort from the girl.
"And waste all that primping and poking for nothing? Nay. Someone shall see me dressed up so ere I remove all this fancy finery, thank you. Besides, it is the least I can do," she added more gently. "And I am sorry if I sounded a bit touchy just now."
Charlie hesitated another moment, nodded with relief, pushed the carriage door open, then stepped out and turned to help Bessie down.
If the exterior of the Cock and Bull had looked seedy, the inside was positively depressing. The heavy stench of smoke and stale ale were the first things to hit Charlie. Nosewrinkling, she blinked several times in an effort to adjust to the dim interior after the bright sunlight outside. When she could see clearly, she had to wonder why she had bothered. There wasn't much to see. Scarred wooden tables. A dirty wooden floor littered with various bits of debris. Brown walls which may have started out cream or white but were now stained from decades of smoke. Unkempt people with stained, shabby clothes filled every cranny, despite the fact that it was not yet noon.
Taking Bessie's arm, Charlie led her quickly through the noisy crowd to the bar.
The innkeeper noticed them at once. Flashing a set of teeth as stained as his brown walls, he continued to wipe a mug with a filthy cloth as he nodded in greeting. "What'll it be?"
"A room please. For Lord and Lady er Pigeon."
His hands slowed in their wiping as he glanced over them curiously, then he nodded slowly. "That'll just take a minute. One of the girls'll prepare the room. Why don'tcha sit over there at that corner table and have an ale while ye wait."
It wasn't a question. Charlie followed the man's gaze toward the table indicated, noting that there was a lone man seated at it. Short and stout, his head was sunk deep on his chest as he studied his drink with an air of boredom.
Realizing that this must be the man she was to meet, Charlie nodded and started to turn away, but paused when the innkeeper suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Ye'll be paying for the room and ale in advance, won't ye."
That wasn't a question either, Charlie noted as she grimly reached into her pocket and withdrew a couple of coins. Tossing them at the man a bit impatiently, she hurried Bessie toward the table they had been directed to, eager to have the ordeal done with.
The stranger lifted his head when Charlie and Bessie stopped at the table.
His eyes skimmed them both, noting their matching height and slender frames. "Yer late."
Charlie stiffened at the belligerent tone, her eyes scanning his face. She frowned over his bulbous nose, thick lips, and pockmarked face. He was not someone one was likely to forget meeting, and she was positive she had never met him before. Which meant he probably wasn't the actual blackmailer but an agent for him. She had been rather hoping to have a discussion with the blackmailer himself, to discern whether he intended to try to extort more money later.
It seemed she wasn't going to get the chance. Which meant they would be left to wonder and worry for a while longer.