Read His Lordship Possessed Online

Authors: Lynn Viehl

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Science Fiction, #Urban, #Steampunk

His Lordship Possessed (6 page)

see what more he’d done.

Doyle stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs when

I came back down. “Did they get at the rest?”

I nodded. “He must have sent in a whole gang. By the

look of things they were well-paid, too.”

“I’ll have my men question the neighbors,” he assured

me. “We’ll fi nd them, Kit.”

“Don’t bother.” My heart felt like a stone in my chest.

“If you would post a beater outside to watch the place,

I’ll have someone over before nightfall to board up the

windows and doors.” I walked out.

“Where are you going?” Before I could answer, he

said, “Wherever it is, he’ll fi nd you.”

I didn’t look back at him. “Not this time, he won’t.”

Wrecker met me on the street halfway to the Eagle’s

Nest; he removed his cap and held it between his hands

but couldn’t seem to get any words out.

“I’ve seen it,” I told him. “I need someone to board up

the place.”

“Already on his way.” He scuffl ed his heels round the

snow a bit. “I’m real sorry, Miss Kit. No call to be doing

such things to a lady like you. Carri’s over here.”

Wrecker drove me the rest of the way to Rina’s house,

where I found her wrapped in furs and pacing back and

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LYNN VIEHL

forth in the alley. As soon as she spotted us she ran to the carri and practically dragged me out of it.

“Bugger all, Kit. Someone said you’d nearly been shot

outside court. I nearly worried myself into the vapors.”

She smothered me with her furry collar before holding

me at arm’s length. “Inside. Now.”

I followed her inside, up the stairs and into her

chambers, where she divested me of my cloak and used

her fi ngers to loosen the icy tresses round my face.

“I’ve put a tray upstairs, madam,” Almira said as she

came out of the kitchen. “Miss Kit.” She folded me into

her arms and gave me a tight hug. “Go on with you.”

Rina guided me upstairs to her chambers and forced

me to drink a cup of tea so hot it scalded me into silence.

Which was handy, as she had a great deal to get off her

chest.

“Bleeding Walsh’s going to pay for this, I swear on the

cross.” She threw her furs over a chair and kicked a tuff et across the room. “Having you tossed out your offi ce, then

taken in to court like some two-pence alley-tart—and

then, while you’re ducking bullets, razing your place?

It’s too much, even for a nobheaded, tightassed son of a

poxbox like him.”

“No, it wasn’t.” For some reason I couldn’t stop

thinking about Dredmore, and how quickly he had killed

the snuff mage outside court. Why had he come there? To

see me convicted, and applaud as I was sent off to prison?

Or to bribe someone to place me in his custody? Why

had he bothered to defend me?

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Disench anted & Co., Part 1

“Wrecker’ll do him in a minute,” Rina was still

ranting. “No, I think he’ll do him in hours and hours,

while we have a bottle of wine and watch and make useful

suggestions.”

“Rina.” I waited until she looked at me. “Wrecker will

do
no
such thing.”

“But after what old blueballs did to you—”

“No killing, no torture,” I told her fl atly. “Th e same

goes for Dredmore. He saved my life.” I set down the cup

before rising and reaching for my cloak.

She positioned herself in front of the door. “You’re

not going back out there.”

“I have to.” Even if I had nowhere else to go. “If

Walsh learns that I’m here, he’ll come after you and your

gels.”

“Oh, please, God.” Her smile was a dreadful thing to

behold. “Let him.”

“Let him do things to you that make my misfortunes

look like a spring stroll down the prommy?” I shook my

head.

“Th en we’ll call on Bridget’s Charles. He’ll squash

Walsh like a gnat.” She went to her desk. “I’ll have him

come round and you can tell him—”

“Carina. Stop.” I joined her at the desk and took the

pen and foolscap out of her hands. “Just stop now. It’s

done. It can’t be undone, none of it.”

Tears fi lled her eyes. “Do you even know what you

look like, Kit? You’re as white as bone. Th ere are marks

on your wrists from the shackles and glass all over your

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LYNN VIEHL

bodice. You’re shaking.” She held out trembling hands.

“God blind me.
I’m
shaking.”

“We’re angry, and hurt, and frightened.” I touched

her cheek. “But one thing we’re not, the one thing we

will never be, is daft. We need to take some time now to

think and to plan.” I put my reticule in her hands. “Th is

is every pence I have left in the world. I need you to hold

it safe for me.”

“You’re staying here.”

“I can’t risk—”

“Shut up. I needed a new gel—and so I hired one.”

She tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Name

of Connie. A bit dark and on the skinny side, but some

gents like that.”

I sighed. “Walsh knows my middle name.”

“Th en Rosie, or Lucy, or . . .“ She stopped and

suddenly smiled. “Prudence.”

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Disench anted & Co., Part 1

Chapter Four

“If I like the looks of someone, can I give him a free one?”

I asked my new employer, and then hissed as a hairpin

dug into my scalp. “You’re hurting!”

“You’re not selling or bartering or giving anything

to anyone under my roof,” Rina told my refl ection. She

pinned the new switch in several more places. “You’re a

good gel, and you’re going to stay that way.”

I tucked my bottom lip under my top teeth to keep

from correcting her.

“Don’t do that, you’ll scrape off the tint.” She sprayed

my switch with a light mist of her perfume and stepped

back. “You make a pretty hothead.”

I studied my refl ection in Rina’s vanity glass, turning

my head this way and that. Th e elegant scarlet curls of the expensive hair switch should have made my tanned skin

appear yellow, but instead they brought out the pinkish

tones and gave me a rosy look.

“Bridget has freckles,” I mentioned. “I always wanted

freckles.”

“You always wanted to be a man, a fi rebrigader, a

pilot, and seven feet tall. Let us be grateful that heaven

has remained stone-deaf to your prayers.” She went to her

working-hours armoire. “Take off everything, including

your drawers.”

I didn’t mind the switch or the lip tint, but I couldn’t

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LYNN VIEHL

imagine myself parading about in one of Rina’s fi lmy

business garms. “Couldn’t I be Prudence the new scullery,

or Prudence the apprentice cook?”

She began pushing hangers back and forth as she

searched through a rainbow of cut-out velvets, thin silks,

and spangled nettings. “He’ll be expecting that.”

I got up and joined her. “But my posing as a working

strumpet would be a complete stunner.”

“You may stir up trouble on the Hill, poke your

nose in the wrong corners, and have all the worst sort

of friends”—she turned and held a bronze satin corset

against my front before replacing it in the armoire—”

but you’re still a decent woman with a business and your

own home. You’re regarded as such by all who know you.

Women like you would rather starve, go to prison, jump

a cliff , or embrace a blade than give it up for money.” An

odd look came over her face. “No matter how desperate

you lot become.”

She was only repeating the words her father had

hurled at her the one time she had tried to see him. I

knew because I had taken her. “Rina.”

Th e side of her mouth curled. “No worries. We’ll need

a nudie. Be right back.” She hurried out.

I didn’t know what a nudie was, so I went to refi ll my

tea and sat down on the window seat. Fingers of icy air

poked at me from where they crept under the sill, and I

saw drifts piling up on the street below. Th e temperature

was still dropping, which would keep trade light tonight.

It had been a bright and sunny day two years ago when

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Disench anted & Co., Part 1

I’d taken Rina on the shopping expedition. She’d hated

the proper bodice and skirts I’d lent her for the excursion, and had refused to take off her hat and veil, even when we

stopped for tea and cakes. I hadn’t understood until after

I made her come with me into the glove shop.

“You paid for tea, and you need a new pair for church,”

I’d argued as I dragged her in through the entry. “Besides,

I can’t aff ord anything grander than kid, so they’ll be

warm and serviceable.”

“Aye.” She looked at the proprietor, who was coming

round from behind the counter to wait on us. “I’m certain

that you’ll fi nd that here.”

“Ladies.” Th e shopkeep, a pleasant-faced older man

with ruddy skin and a suggestion of native round the eyes,

bowed politely. “May I be of service?”

“We’d like to see something in thin kid for my friend

here,” I told him as I ushered Rina over to the counter.

“I have all colors dyed, bleached, or natural,” he said,

holding out his hand to Rina. “If the lady would let me

size her?”

“You needn’t,” Rina said, taking off her hat and

veil and gazing at him with big eyes. “I’m a four slim,

remember?”

Watching the change that came over the shopkeeper

was like seeing a man turned to stone. “Carina.”

“Hello, Da.” She off ered him a beautiful smile.

“How’s trade?”

Much bellowing had followed, all from the

glovemaker, who had called his daughter nine kinds of

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LYNN VIEHL

a slut before I’d tried to intervene. Th en he had told me

exactly why he and his family had washed their hands of

their strumpet daughter before kicking us out of the shop.

Once we were in the cab I hailed, I’d turned to Rina.

“Why didn’t you tell me that was your father’s shop?”

“You wouldn’t have gone in, and I wanted to see him,”

she’d said simply. “I haven’t, you know. Not once since

Medford broke our engagement. Last time I saw Da

was when he’d tossed me out the house and bolted the

doors. When I wouldn’t leave the front stoop he had the

servants summon a beater to drive me off .”

Th at was the last of our shopping excursions, and

although I hadn’t known until it was too late, I’d always

felt guilty over causing the ugly reunion. Now I’d

reminded her of it again.

Rina returned with what appeared to be a pair of

fl esh-colored stockings sewn to the bottom of a thin

corset-style bodice in matching fabric. “Here, this one

should fi t you.”

My gaze went to the open crotch. “I can’t wear that

contraption.”

“It’s called a nudie, and it’s to preserve your modesty,

madam.” She tossed the odd garment at me. “You wear

it under your negli, and it keeps your naughty bits from

showing through.”

I held up the crotchless bit. “Not here, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She went to her dresser and began

sorting through her lingerie. “Th e open crotch is for

convenience; some gents can be too impatient to wait.”

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Disench anted & Co., Part 1

She produced something that looked to me like a thin

nappy.

“You’re going to diaper me?” I asked.

“Th ey’re called knickers,” she explained as she brought

the abbreviated garment to me. “All the rage across the

pond.” When she saw my face she held it up against her

pelvis. “You see? You put them on just like drawers.”

“So I’m to wear drawers without legs under stockings

and a corset without a crotch and then a gown on top.” I

caught the knickers she tossed to me. “Couldn’t I pretend

to be a client? A fully dressed, male client?”

“Th at’s a good idea,” Rina admitted, “but I haven’t any

men’s clothes small enough for you here. I’ll send out for

some tomorrow, but in the meantime you’ll have to be

patient, Prudence.”

I gave her a narrow look. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Enormously.” She went round me and began

unfastening my waister. After a moment she added, “I

didn’t mean to go off on you before, love. Th at business

with Da back then, that was all on me.”

“I never stopped wishing I could do something about

it.” I pulled my bodice carefully over my head so as not to

dislodge the switch. “Expose Medford’s son for what he

did, or at least make him tell your da the truth.”

“No one would believe the word of a woman over a

man’s,” Rina said, her tone fi rm. “If someone had, the

rot bastard would’ve just had all his mates swear that I’d

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