Lady Rogue (28 page)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Garrick fidgeted nervously as he sat on the edge of his carriage seat looking out the window.  Ducks, swan
s and geese glided over the Serpentine in Hyde Park, taking advantage of a rare bit of sun, and he passed his time in watching them.  A flock of sheep grazed peacefully, competing with the cows for rare greenery.  The London butchers had been given grazing rights in the park with the double purpose of fattening their animals and aiding in the fertilization of the land, but Garrick thought is was an abominable inconvenience when one wanted to take a walk.  Better to stay inside the carriage and wait until the individual who sent him the message showed himself.

I wish I'd never put Henry in my employ.  I have no liking for this spyin
g business,
he grumbled, feeling uneasy,  much like a man awaiting his own sentencing. Would what he was about to learn shatter his dreams?

The minutes dragged by into
a quarter hour.  In summer, London’s four  public parks  usually bustled with activity but today, Hyde Park was all but deserted. He spotted the dark cloaked figure immediately, as it moved closer to the carriage.  A woman!  He watched as she  daintily lifted up her skirts to avoid the mud puddles.  Perhaps Henry's paramour then.

Opening the door, Garrick offered his hand, helping the young woman up.  "I don't want
anyone to see me," she gasped, looking cautiously behind her.  "Oh, I feel like such a traitor, I do.  She's been very kind to me.  But ‘Enry said....."

"We'll have privacy inside."  The only one who might overhear was Vinnie and Garrick trusted the young m
an implicitly.  "You're.....?"

"Agnes."  The young woman blushed under the heat of his stare.  "I was
‘ired by Margaret Pembrooke to be Miss Landon's personnal maid.  And I've taken good care of ‘er.  Until now....."  She looked down at her shoes, concentrating on the large buckles.

"I thought for a moment you we
ren't coming after all." 

"I ‘
ad to wait until until she was gone."  She punctuated her words with a long drawn out sigh.

"I presume you know something that might interest me, concerning your mistresse's identity?"  Somehow he didn't really want to know.  Did it really matter who Dawn really was?  And yet he could not build his mar
riage on a lie.  "Who is she?"

"I don't know who she is, only that
I ‘eard from some of the other servants when I first came, that Margaret Pembrooke had taken ‘er in.  Oh, the money that woman lavished on ‘er.  Why, yer might have thought she was ‘er daughter or something."  She sprawled in the seat next to Garrick.

"Her daughter?"  A surge of relief flooded through him.  Was it possible that
perhaps the old woman had committed an indiscretion in her youth? Perhaps Dawn was her illegitimate daughter.  That would answer so many questions and put Ollie's arguments to rest.  "Perhaps she is...."

"Oh no!  Mrs. Pembrooke took her in off the
streets, or so I'm told.  She ‘oused ‘er and clothed ‘er and taught ‘er to speak proper

"
Why, I can scarce believe it.  Her diction is flawless...."

"Mrs.
Pembrooke's tutoring."  Agnes clasped her hands so tightly together that her knuckles turned white.  "Which I guess does prove that yer can turn a sow's ear into a silk purse.  Oh, that I ‘ad been so fortunate, for she lives like a princess now, she who used to walk the streets."

Garrick shook his head.  "I don't believe you.  I don't know why you are saying this, perpetrating such a ghastly tale
. It just won't do.  I won't give you a farthing without proof.  That is what I asked for.  God knows if I wanted to hear a silly story I'd listen to Ollie.  He has enough of them."  He opened the door as if dismissing her, but she didn't budge.

"I need the money yer
promised.  That's the only reason I caime.  That and the fact that yer so ‘andsome. I don't think I could deny you anything."  She looked at him hopefully.

Garrick's whole body tensed.  So that was it.  She thought to discredit Dawn and take her place.  His tone was scathing.  "And
just why should I believe you?"

"Not just me.  Several of the servants can testify to the fact that I speak the truth.  And...and the lawyer, Mr. Barr
ister, ‘e'll tell yer.  ‘E was the one who rewrote the will, ‘e was.  ‘E knows."  Her voice lowered conspiratorialy.  "As a matter of fact ‘e accompanied Miss Landon this morning.  And where do yer think they was going?"

"I have no idea."

"Newgate Prison, that's where.  And why do yer suppose they went there?"  When he didn't answer she said, "To try and set one of the prisoners free.  A young man.  A thief!  I listened at the door."  She took off her bonnet, toying with the ties.  "Now why do you suppose a decent young woman would care what ‘appened to the likes of him."

"Why do
you
suppose?"  Garrick sat on the edge of his seat.

"Well......there has been speculation.  But I'd say
at one time he must have been ‘er lover!  It maikes sense if yer  think about it.  Oh!"  She shrieked as Garrick moved away so swiftly that she tumbled backwards in the seat.

"You are wasting my time!  I'm a busy man.  I have no liking for the direction this conversation is going.  I'm beginning to think Oliver has put you up to this. Well, you can tell him I'm not amused."  He nodded with his head toward the open door.  "Now, if you don't mind........"  Was it Ollie?  Or was this young woman just so filled with jealousy that she was fabricating stories.  Newgate indeed!  An inmate as
a lover.  "Ridiculous!"

"Oh
?  I don't know."  She positioned herself farther back on the seat, refusing to be so rudely dismissed.  "I brought yer something yer might find interesting.  I know I did.  It bears yer initials, yet I know she ‘ad it long before she met yer that night Mrs. Pembrooke's nephew brought ye to dinner."

"My initials?" 
He was puzzled.

"What roused me
suspicions is the waiy she always keeps it locked up in a drawer, as if afraid someone might see.  And….and I've seen ‘er taike it out and look at it as if it were covered wi’ diamonds. Once when I came in behind ‘er and she was eyeing it, she jumped as if I'd frightened ‘er ‘alf to death and ‘id it behind ‘er back.  I ask ye why?"  Taking it out of her pocket, she dangled it tauntingly before his nose, then pulled it away.  "A timepiece!  Now what do yer suppose she wants wi’ this?"

Garrick's eyes followed the swinging motion for a moment.  The watch looked all t
oo familiar. "Give it to me!  By God girl, I won't stand for any teasing!"  Reaching out, he grabbed it, turning it over in his fingers.  His initials danced before his eyes.  G. F. S.  There could be no mistaking.  It was his watch, the one that had been stolen at the docks.  He'd had it specially made.  There was only one like it. 

"Ye see, I told yer that what I ‘
ad would pique your interest."  She laughed softly.  "Now will yer give me the money you told ‘Enry would be the reward for any information on our mysterious lady?"

"Lady!"  Two images hovered before Garrick's eyes, one of a proper young miss, the other of a painted face.  The images switched back and forth, merging into each other. No, it couldn't be!  He would have known, would have suspected.  And yet, finding that woman in Margaret Pembrooke's house would have been the last
thing he would have expected.

"Am I r
ight?  Did she steal it from ye?"  Agnes licked her lips.  Lord but he was acting strangely.

"No!  No...you...you see I gave it to her."  Even with his mounting an
ger he thought to protect her.

There was no masking her disappointment.  "Ga
ive it to ‘er?"

"Yes, so you see where your meddling takes you.  I will have to tell Miss Landon that you have been searching through her things.  I'm certain she will have you dismissed immediately."  Garrick suddenly remembered that it had been in front of Margaret Pembrooke's house that he had finally apprehended the young rogue who had robbed him.  Coi
ncidence?  He knew the answer.

"Oh n
o!  Please, Sir.  I thought to ‘elp.  I....I thought.  Well...well you can see why I might.  She was acting so strange,’hiding it and all.  I thought...."

"You thought wrong!"  Only by the greatest effort was he able to maintain his composure.  His heart was hammering, he felt as if every
drop of blood had been drained from him.  The harlot!  The dock whore!  It was beyond belief.  She and the demure, proper Miss Landen were one in the same.  Beneath her elegance hovered the same young tart who had set him up to be robbed and nearly killed.  How could he have ever been such a blind fool not to realize?  Because he had been so taken by her beauty, her feigned innocence.  He had assumed her to be exactly who she professed to be.  A young woman from Norfolk

Lie upon lie, deception upon deception!  The dock whore and Dawn Landon were one in the same.  She had skillfully manipulated him.  Had she so easily fooled Margaret Pembrooke as well?  That poor woman had thought to help her
, and where was she now?  In her grave.

For a moment as he looked at the watch
, his eyes narrowed to angry slits.  How she must have been laughing at him all the while, knowing they had met before and under what circumstances.  Oh, how he had courted her, the conniving little bitch.  And all the while she had played her innocence to the hilt.  Blistering fury took hold of him.  She had nearly been the cause of his death!  She and that tattered young thief.  Her lover?  Somehow all the pieces began to fit together.  And poor Margaret Pembrooke had not known the type of woman she sheltered.

And yet even knowing  caused him such pain!  He had thought her the perfect woman
, the woman he had been searching for all his life; a woman so completely different from his mother, one to give him the love he had never had.  He had craved her but held himself back.  She was too virtuous to be taken advantage of, he had thought.  Virtuous!  Ha!  He remembered the passion she had displayed when she'd come to his office.  Like tinder awaiting a spark.  He should have given in to his desire there and then and taken her on the carpeted floor.  But he had been obsessed with being a gentleman!  Fool!

"Take this and put it back where you found it."  He thrust the watch into Agnes' tr
embling hands.  "Perhaps I may not tell on you if you promise not to say a word of this to anyone."

"Ye
'll keep silent?"  Taking his hand, Agnes kissed it gratefully.  "Thank ye, Sir.  Yer won't be sorry.  I'll do you a good turn some daiy.  I will.  I promise!"  She slid from the carriage and took to her heels without once looking back.

Garrick's anger fed upon itself until it was fire raging out of control.  He'd fallen in love with a scheming little
trull
.  Allowed her to weave her silken  web around him until he was helplessly trapped.  He'd been completely besotted, just as Oliver had said, and oh, how she must have laughed all the while.  Closing his eyes, he remembered the way her breasts had pushed against him when they had danced, the soft touch of her hands.  Marry her?  Hardly.  But he would claim what he had burned for all this while,
before
he flung the truth in her face.             
             
             

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Garrick pulled his carriage up to Oliver's house wearing a scowl that made him look like the very devil himself.  Jumping down he
bade Vinnie unhitch the horses. 

"Are we going to be staying a long while, Sir?"  Vinnie looked do
wn at him from atop his perch.

"I'm giving the carriage to Oliver Chambers, Vinnie.  We won't be using it again." His disposition was not improved by the question.  "Dr
ive it around to the stables."

"Giving it to Mr. Chambers, Sir?"  The young driver looked tota
lly baffled.  "But...but why?"

"It's too long a story to tell, nor do I have the stomach for revealing my motives right at the moment.  But don't worry, I'll buy another so you will not be unemployed."  Not wanting to take out his foul mood on the lad
, he patted him on the shoulder.  "Let me just say that to my regret a woman has something to do with it.  Hopefully your own romance is running more smoothly."

"We're going to be married, Sir.  She's given in to my wooing."  He blushe
d a shade to match his livery.

"Marriage.  A noble institution," Garrick said dryly.  "Well, carry on!"  He paced back and forth in front of Oliver's front door, not at all anxious to hear Oliver's "I told you so, old chum."  He'd jolly well been duped.  Tricked.  Deceived.  Was it any wonder he was in such a black mood?  "Women be damned!" he whispered beneath his
breath. 

Devious, every last one of them.  Whores at heart, using their charms, be they ample or wanting, to snag a husband then damning the fellow with their every breath.  From fish
wife to aristocrat it was the same.  Stephanie Creighton, for example.  He knew very well why she wanted him. Nor did a wedding band mean they  were any less dishonest.  Had a gold band kept his mother faithful?  It was merely a symbol of security.  Well, he would never marry.  Not now.  Particularly not some little baggage who had plied her trade at the docks.

"Garrick?  Garrick, old boy!"  Oliver spied him from the window and waved.  Pushing open the front
door he bounded down the steps.  "Whatever are you doing stalking about out here?  I've got a fire blazing inside and I've opened a bottle of brandy.  "I've a guest......"

"I feel the need to be out in the fr
esh air, Ollie.  Do you mind?"

"But there is a chill....and the damp....."  Oliver shrugged his shoulders.  "
It’s freezing, but if you insist, let's at least sit here on the portico while you tell me what has you in such a snit.  Or shall I guess?"

"I have instructed Vinnie to unhook my carriage and take it behind to your stable.  Does that answer your question?"  Garrick cast him an icy glance, then deciding it wasn't Oliver's fault that he had been made a fool
, he extended his hand.  "I'm making good on my bet and I apologize for some of the things I've said.  Fair?"

"Oh
!  It sounds as if you have been stung.  So, you found out I'm right, eh, Gar?  Now you believe me when I tell you that she isn't from Norfolk."  He motioned towards a chair.  "Here. Sit. Sit and tell me all."

"Not only is she not from
Norfolk but she's a common little strumpet.  And a thief!  From London, no less."  Though a voice deep inside urged him to use prudence in revealing the story, his anger goaded him on.  While Oliver made himself comfortable, Garrick stood with one foot perched on the rung, telling his friend about the young maid's visit.

"The maid  had your watch?"

"She confiscated it from our dear Miss Landon.  No doubt it was given to
her
by that young scoundrel who came upon me at the docks.  You remember, Ollie.  I was there to meet with
your
client, after all.  She came up swaying her hips and smiling seductively at me while he was hovering behind me with a club, ready to bash my head in.  I woke up in an old warehouse to find her bending over me with a knife."

"Gads!  It's even worse than I suspected!  Poor Aunt Margaret!"  Putting a
hand to his throat he winced.

"Murder wasn't  in her plan, at least that night, for I did get free.  She tried to convince me she had come to help me.  I wonder......."  Somehow he couldn't believe that Dawn would kill anyone, no matter what else she had done.  No, of that she was vindicated in his mind. As to her male companion
, he wasn't so sure.  "If you remember, I caught that young pickpocket near your aunt's house.  Now I know what he was doing there.  He was in league with her.  Though what they had planned we'll never know."

"Oh, my!  And to think that now
she
has inherited Aunt Magaret's fortune.  Something will have to be done at once.  We'll call in the....."

"No!"  Oliver's intentions were like a spray of cold water, dousing Garrick's anger.  "I don't want to be hasty.  Besides, we have no proof."  He didn't want to see her thrown out on the street with nowhere to go, returning to her former lifestyle.  Never that.  He was
neither a cruel  nor a mercilessly vengeful man. Something of this magnitude would have to be thought out carefully.

"The watch!  You told me...."

"I gave it back.  It's in her possession, not in mine."  Garrick grabbed hold of one of the colonades that held up the porch.  "I don't want to talk about it any further, Ollie.  I need to think. Please try to understand.  I loved her.  I really loved her."

Oliver clucked his tongue in sympthy.  "I'm sorry, Gar!  Really I am.  But women are women, after all.  What can one say?  Eve and all that, eh?  Poor Adam.  That's when it all began, I dare say."  Rising to his feet
, he patted his friend on the back.  "But I have just what you need.  Come inside.  A good stiff drink will make you forget what has happened."

"And another and another."  Garrick knew it would take more than just one.  Dear God, how she haunted him still.  Even now the very thought of her
in his arms fired his blood.

What kind of fool was he?  What the sweet, bloody hell had happened to him? Did it matter?  She had been an illusion after all, he thought with bitter mockery.  Her performance would have put any
Drury Lane actress to shame.  For a moment he had even thought she cared.  Feeling a twinge of self-pity he followed Oliver inside and there succumbed to three fingers of brandy.

"She used me." That thought made him grind his teeth.  And yet what had been her purpose? Had her passion been feigned? With the Pembrooke fortune at her disposal hadn't she had all that she wanted?  What had been her game?  Letting the fiery liquid trickle down his throat
, he knew there was only one way to find out for himself.  To ask her.