Lady Rogue (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The late morning sun gilded the muddy waters of the
Thames.  Thick smoke belched forth from smokestacks and chimneys like gray clouds, obscuring the horizon.  The bewildering clamor of human voices, rattling wheels, and horses' hoofs pervaded  the air.  An ordinary day, yet somehow Garrick saw the city through different eyes, occupying himself in reading the signboards and inscriptions as the carriage pushed through the melee.

Deciding to walk, Garrick alit from his carriage, and hastened down the cobbled streets toward his office, pausing only
to buy an apple tart temptingly exposed in a tin at the pastry-cook's door.  He'd slept late, an unusual occurance in his well-ordered  and disciplined life.  The enticing erotic visions he'd savored last night and early this morning were surely responsible,  pleasant dreams  in which he made passionate love to Dawn Landon.

Walking behind two middle-aged men who plodded steadily along with no object in view but the counting-house, he was aware of just how dull and repetitious his life had
become. Indeed, as he watched the men walk along the street without stopping to exchange even a hurried saltation, he was doubly thankful that Dawn Landon had come into his life.  Just thinking about her, about last night lightened his mood and gave him a sense of elation.  For the first time in years he saw the possibility of filling the aching void in his heart.

Bond
Street had an unmistakeable character.  It was a quieter, truly “businesslike” street. The large white beautiful flagstones that lined the roadway were a touch Garrick’s architectural hand had lent to the area..  Passing by the shops with their plate-glass windows, his jaunty  step t carried him up the steps and through the door to his office.

"Good morning, Ollie!" he said merrily, taking off his hat, scarf and coat and depositing them on the
brass rack alongside the door.

"
Afternoon
don't you mean." Oliver sat at the far desk, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his shirt front jutting open.   There was a peevish expression on his face as he looked up from his drawing.  "Gad, how I remember the tongue lashings I received when I sauntered in at such a late hour.  My, my, my how times do change."

"Don't be grouchy, Oll.  Not when I'm in such
high spirits."  Clasping his hands behind his back, Garrick walked nonchalantly over to Oliver's desk.  "What are you working on?"

"What does it loo
k like?" Oliver's voice was husky with laryngitis.

It was an intricate drawing that displayed terraces, villas, markets, roadways and canals.   Oliver had even sketched in a landscap
e of trees and scrubs.  Marylebone Park.  Impressive, Ollie."

"I'm glad you approve, since I've worked my posterior off doing it.  Why, would you believe I've been here s
ince six thirty this morning?"

"No."

"Well, I have been.  I arrived just in time to see the Charleys blowing out their night lanterns.  So bloody early in fact that I witnessed London's sky free from  the gray smoke  that usually enshrouds it.  And yet just like a swarm of ants there were people milling about,  hackney coachmen, laborers and the like.  Grubby souls going about the drudgery of their daily lives.  It made me realize a few things."  Wrinkling up his nose he sneezed.  "Excuse me."              

Rolling up his own shirt sleeves, Garrick sat down at the other desk and picked up his pencil
and drawing scale.  "Such as?"

"That money is not a thing to be thrown away.  Without it a m
an is in a sorry hell.  You are right to be so diligent and hardworking, Gar.  I see that now.  Though I do wish there was an easier way to wealth.  Aunt Margaret for example.  My uncle left her enough money to share."

"Perhaps she will be generous with you if you prove yourself reliable."  Thinking of Margaret Pembrooke brought Dawn Landon to mind and he smiled.  "I'm exceedingly fond of your aunt, as
you know.  Particularly now."

Oliver sighed, his petulant frown giving in to a smile.  "All right, out with it.  I know you're just dying to tell me about last night.  Oh no, you haven't fooled me for a moment.  I know why you have been grinning  like a buffoon and
looking so buoyant since you came through that door. Your’re veritably floating on air.  Did you kiss her?"

"Indeed I did."  Just the memory ignited his desires anew
, and he took a deep breath to cool his ardor.  Her mouth had been achingly soft against his.  The moment their touched he had known that something very special was happening between them.

"And?"  Ollie raised his brows suggestively, exp
ecting more.  "Did you......?"

"No!  Perish the thought.  She is every inch a lady."  Garrick laughed softly.  "But I would be lying if I didn't confess I wanted to.  Last night I spent a t
orturous night alone in bed."             

"Ohhhhh?  So Garrick Seton has succumbed to love.  Delightful.  I never thought I'd see the day."  Throwing back his head, Oliver  merrily gurgled an insinuating giggle.  "Sleeping alone, but not for long
, hmmmm, Gar?"

"No.  I intend to do something about it. I intend to ask Miss Dawn Landon for her hand in marriage." 
London was a frivolous, flippant, venal and villainous city.  Was it any wonder then that he wanted to offer Dawn Landon the protection of his name.  She was like a newly blossoming flower whose perfection he didn't want marred by society's scandalous sins..

Oliver's laughter quickly sobbered.  "You intend to do what?" 
He was incredulous.  "No....!"

"I want to marry her, Ollie.  It is as
simple as that."

"Marry a woman you have just met?"  Bolting from his chair he grabbed Garrick's arm then let go.   "No!  I won't let you do it.  You've given me some good advice over the years  and now I'll give you some. 
Don't do it
!"

"Ollie, I knew it was what I wanted the moment I kissed her."  Garrick smiled as he remembered that moment very vividly.  The yielding of her soft mouth had evoked a potent reaction.  "How can I make you understand.  I've  never experienced anything like the feelings that surged t
hrough me when our lips met."

Oliver broke out in a tirade.  "So you kissed her.   A kiss is a kiss.  I dare say, if you married all the young women you've kissed you'd be a bigamist."  He paced round and round Garrick's chair much like a dog chasing its tail.  "You know
nothing about her.  Three evenings, that's all the time you've spent with her."

"Ollie, stop  circling about.  You're making me dizzy."  Rising to his feet, Garrick blocked Oliver's path.  "I'm not an impulsive man
, as you well know, but there are times when a man just senses some things.  I want to protect her."

"Then get her a bloodhound, old chap!  But don't
let her put a collar on you."

"It's time I took a wife, Ollie.  I want a home and children.  What's more I want to make my life with her.  She
’s everything I could want in a woman.  She beautiful, delightfully charming, innocent....."

"Stop right there!"  Crossing his arms Oliver leaned against the desk.  "She's lovely it's true
, but I would hardly imagine she is the innocent you have conjured up in your mind."  Taking out his handkerchief he blew his nose.  "Dreadful cold.  The chill the other night did me in, old fellow.  But as I was saying she is amusingly naïve, but a woman after all. No saint, Garrick. They are all the same, bless their deceiving little hearts.  Undoubtedly she has come to London with the thought in mind of nabbing a proper and rich husband.  For the love of God at least  wait a proper spell before you offer yourself up on a platter."

"You're wrong about her, Ollie.  I know all about deceiving women.  My mother is a prime example."  He would never be able to forget the parade of
men his mother had taken to her bed. She had used various men like rungs on a lader to climb to the top and secure her future, and then proceeded to amuse herself with any male who took her fancy. "I loath that kind of woman.  But Miss Dawn Landon is not like that.  She is as fresh and unspoiled as country air, the kind of woman I've been waiting to meet."

"Balderdash
, as my Aunt loves to say to me.  There is something very strange and mysterious about that young lady.  She's too perfect to be believed."  Putting a finger to his nose, he warded off a sneeze. "In the meantime I've set some inquiries into motion.  To quell my own curiosity, I might say.  I want to find out all about the Landons of Norfolk."

"Spying on her, Ollie."  Garrick's voice trembled with suppressed anger.  "That isn't like you.  You're usually the "devil-may-care s
ort of man."

"My sudden reversals have
changed all that.  I've seen what sort of life the uh....uh unfortunate endure in this city and I want no part of it.  I've decided it was about time I used my head.  I'm not certain I am comfortable with this young woman who suddenly shows such devotion to my aunt.  I will not be cheated out of my rightful due."

Garrick glowered at his friend and partner. "You
can be certain you won't be cheated by Miss Landon."              

"Tut, tut, tut!  Just give me two weeks and I will prove to you that your fantasy is but a vision you've conjured up in your mind.  A woman is a woman after all."  Returning to his desk
, Oliver picked up a notepad and began scrawling with a pencil.  "Two weeks, that's all I ask."               

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Garrick didn’t know what had possessed him to come to the East End of London when he found himself looking up at the sign of the Red Feather Inn. It was the only tie he had to the little begger girl, his only hope of finding her. For some undefinable reason she’d been on his mind a great deal of late. Perhaps because of the happy future he now envisioned for himself. He wanted to share at least a pittance of his good fortune. With that thought in mind, he was determined to find the mobcapped child, to ascertain that she was safe and offer his friendship to her once again.

Before him lay the badly lit alleys, the rundown, narrow houses. He shuddered to think that it was here  the por child was condemned to live out her days. Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Taken her under his wing? Because he had been too concerned with himself, he thought in self-condemnation. Well, he would find her and when he did he’d do all he cold to give her the chance to lift herself out of her poverty.

Dressed in a plain forest-green dress, one of the rain hats she had created, and leather shoes, Dawn wrapped herself in a thick woolen shawl, and braved the amp, dreary day. It was time to visit Soho and see how Jamie, Farley, Taddie and the others were faring.  She had been selfishly cautious long enough.  Besides, they might have gotten word about Robbie since last she had seen them.

Picking up a basket filled with day old rolls, bread,  a large slab of ham, some cheese and fruit that Cook had granted her from the kitchen, she slipped out the front door.  They'd have a bit of lunch while her friends filled her in on what had been happening in the
East End.

“West End,
East End…” It was all too easy to forget who she really was, a merchant's daughter whose mother had died in debtor's prison, a reformed street sparrow who through the kindness of an elderly woman had been lifted out of the depths of poverty and despair.  She was not one of the
ton
no matter how correctly she spoke or what fine dresses she now wore.  She was Dawn Leighton, not Dawn Landon. Above all she must remember so that when this dream ended she would not be inconsolable. All good things must come to an end sooner or later, or so Robbie had often said.

Fearful of taking the Pembrooke carriage to her destination, Dawn trudged on foot, pausing to catch her breath. The good life was making her soft.  Once she would not have thought a thing of walking a mile or two, now her feet and legs ached after several blocks and she was tired. Most of the streets in
London’s fashionable area were paved but there were many thoroughfares which were little more than tracks, a haphazard jumble of round stones and cobbles placed outside shops by individual shopkeepers and householders. She was careful to watch her step as she moved along..

Carriages with trunks and band-boxes between the drivers' legs and outside the apron, rattled briskly up and down the streets.  Stepping into the street, Dawn hailed a hackney and peeked out through the window as the vehicle rumbled along, leaving the pillars and brick of the West End for the pot holes and wooden walls of the East.

The cobbles were already strewn with decayed cabbage leaves, broken hay bands, and all sorts of litter from the vegetable carts.  Here and there an apprentice or laborer, with the day's dinner tied up in a handkerchief, walked briskly to his work.  Men, women and children shoved and fought their way through the crowded streets. Those dressed in rags struck a pang of grief in Dawn's heart.  When the cold of winter took over the city they would have little protection against the raw winter winds.

"Driver, stop here!"  Paying him his fare, she quickly alighted and made her way to the house she had shared with her pickpocket friends.  A young boy, aged seven or eight,  purposefully jostled against her, his hands lightly skimming over her body in search of valuables.
Seeing Dawn's "knowing"  look he quickly bounded away. 

"Boy!  Boy!"  Though Dawn meant him no harm, indeed had it in mind to offer him one of Cook's rolls, he fled.

Dear God, she thought, was it really so very long ago when I had that same tormented look
?  Closing her eyes for just a moment, she remembered Black John Dunn and his "school of crime where a coat had been suspended on the wall with a bell attached to it. Dawn and the others had made attempts to take a handkerchief or purse from the pocket without ringing the bell.  Over and over she had practiced this skill until she could do it  adroitly. Now thanks to Margaret Pembrooke she would never have to steal again.

After the many weeks spent in Pembrooke House, she felt the squalor of the streets was even more shocking. She remembered those days all too vividly. Days of hunger, days of fear.  This was what she had left. In that moment Dawn knew beyond a doubt in that moment that she never wanted to return to her former life.  Never!  Even so, it was good to lay eyes on Taddie as she walked throug
h the doorway of her old room.

"Who are yer and wot.......Dawn!"  With a squeal of delighted surprise Taddie ran forward.   Her  newly enlarged stomach got in the way as she hugged Dawn to her.  "I didn't think we'd e'er see yer again, I didn't.  And don't yer look f
ine.....Yer didn't forget me."

"I couldn't forget you, Taddie.  Are you well?"  Dawn was worried about the dark circles under the young woman's eye
s.

"Well enough.  Got me a young one on the way, as you can see.  Thought I'd rue my carelessness but I...I...well I want the ch
ild.  It will gi' me company."

"Company?  Are you living here alone, Taddie?"  Dawn's
gaze searched for the others.

"Farley, Jamie, Arien and the others 'ave gone.  They were in a state of confusion after Robbie.......well....Farley 'e joined with ole Tweezer.  Jamie's on 'is own.  Arien is writing plaiys for the theatre.  But I've joined wi' another gang, I 'ave."  Touching her stomach, she looked down at her toeless shoes. 
"My baby's father lives 'ere."

Dawn set down the basket, doubly thankful now that she had brought food.  "I've brought a few things.  We can sup while you tell me what has been happening."  Since there were no chairs or
table, they sat on the floor.

"We was all panicked after Robbie was cornered and sent to....to that plaice.”  Taddie said between mouthfuls of bread and cheese.  “Then when yer didn't come back we was all
sure someone 'ad done yer in."

"Has...has there been any word on my brother's fate?  I've tried to find out, but it's as if he just disappeared."  Taking a deep breath, Dawn shivered as she a
sked, "Was he....was he hung?"

"Jamie doesn't think so.  He paid someone wot could read to scan the lists.  Even went so far as to view several of the 'angings from afar.  No, he's still behind N
ewgaite's wall if yer ask me."

"But Mrs. Pembrooke said he wasn't there and......"  Dawn shook he head.  "Never mind.  I'd much rather believe he is still alive.  It gives me hope."  She'd ask Margaret Pembrooke once again to use her inf
luence in searching for him. 

"God 'elp 'im if 'es been taiken to the hulks.  Or transported. Poor Robbie...."  All  criminals feared the unseaworthy ships that had been converted into prisons nearly as much as they feared the gallows.  Conditions in the hulks were unspeakably horrible.  Criminals were packed together very closely on three decks. At night the hatches were simply screwed down, leaving the convicts to fight among themselves and suffocate in the fetid darkness. Or if they were fortunate they had candlelight.  Hell
on earth it had been called.

"I've got to find out!"  Reaching out, Dawn grasped Taddie by the shoulders.  "Please help.  If you hear any word, see anything, send a message to this address."  Hastily she scribbled the street name on a piece of discarded newspaper with a piece of charcoal.  "If....if Robbie is still alive I've got to free him.  Somehow....."   Her eyes misted with tears.  "If he's dead I want to s
ee him put in a proper grave."

"I'll do all that I can to 'elp.  Keep me eyes and ears open, I will."  Licking her fingers, Taddie smiled sadly.  Though she didn't say anything, Dawn knew what she was thinking, that it was very possible he had been hung and his body given  to the surgeons who dissected in their quest to find out how the body worked. "In the mea
ntime, taike care o' yerself."

They talked of many things before the  churchbell  struck three o'clock.   Rising to her feet, Dawn said a tearful goodbye.  Taking the shawl from around her shoulders, she draped it around the raggedly dressed young woman.  "This is for you, to keep you and the baby warm.  Be careful, Taddie.  And...and if you're ever in need  don't be afraid to send for me.  I'll never be t
oo busy to help a friend....."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I'm doing just fine.  Jack has the nimble fingers.  He taikes care o' me, 'e does."  She kissed Dawn on the cheek.  "I'll tell Jamie and Farley yer was 'ere if I see 'em.  And...and
be careful yerself."

"I will.  Be happy, Taddie."  Dawn started for the door but Taddie called her back.  "You re
membered something about Rob?"

The young woman shook her head.  "No.  About ye. 
Earlier todaiy there was a man asking about a young girl in a mob cap.  Seemed desperate to find 'er 'e did.  Jamie and Farley thought he was askin' after ye and I began to think so too."

"A
man?  What did he look like?"

"Tall.  'Andsome as an angel. Offered up a reward 'e did, but non o' us would turn yer in e
ven for a fortune."

"I know, Taddie."  Garrick Seton had been asking about the girl in the mob cap.  Because he had finally realized that she and the woman who had ensnared him at the docks were one and the same?  The thought chilled Dawn to the bone. How long it would be before he suddenly realized just where else he had seen her before?