Read Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) Online
Authors: Pearl Darling
Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Regency, #Victorian, #London Society, #England, #Britain, #19th Century, #Adult, #Forever Love, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Hearts Desire, #Series, #Brambridge, #British Government, #Military, #Secret Investigator, #Deceased Husband, #Widow, #Mission, #War Office, #Romantic Suspense
Bill groaned. There again he seemed to be running into blocks. He recounted the appearance of Pablo Moreno at the Unusual Oddities encampment, and the following disappearance of the pair, along with a young girl called Dana.
“I’m not sure how you are going to get even closer to Pedro,” Freddie said doubtfully. “If you turned up in the audience in your finery he will immediately recognize you because the last time he saw you, you were here in this house dressed the same way.”
“You’re right. I need to take him whilst he is on his own ground.”
“If only you had a talent that you could show off in his strolling players. I assume that going in as a smith again would not work?”
Bill shook his head. “I understand that they don’t employ anyone apart from performers in the troupe.”
“I’m sure you will come up with something. I’m going back to bed. Trying to avoid the bottle, remember.”
Bill nodded. Thirteen reasons why Victoria should marry him, and a way into Pablo Moreno’s fair. Why was it that every problem he encountered was always replaced with another one?
He rang for a quill and some paper. There was no time like the present to start on the list for Victoria.
Thirteen reasons why Lady Colchester should marry Mr. Standish
he wrote carefully at the top.
1.
Mr. Standish can provide her with unlimited treatment.
2. Brutus and Ponzi get along.
3.
Lady Colchester…
Bill read over what he had written and groaned. Two reasons and already he was stuck. And the second reason was extremely poor. Imagine telling a lady she should marry you because your dogs get along. He tapped on the armor that he had been polishing earlier. The last time he had been so frustrated he had bent a piece of metal like the armor in two and snapped it.
That’s it
. What had Dogman said? He should turn his strength into an act. Freddie had suggested that he needed an act to get into Pablo Moreno’s troupe. He could become a strongman, someone who bent metal. He’d need some help in perfecting his act though. And the ideal people to do that were still back in Beaconsfield. He rubbed at his thighs. It would be good strength training for him to ride back there if he was to pull off the act.
Glancing down at the paper on the table, he folded it up and pushed it into his breast pocket. He had a week to work out what he was going to say to Victoria. He would have to gain some inspiration on the way.
Dogman whistled under his breath as Bill rode back up to the encampment in Beaconsfield dressed in tails and riding breeches. Freddie had loaned Raven to him. The horse sidled as the hairy man looked at Bill’s mount from all angles.
“I didn’t think you were a smith,” the man said, showing his teeth below his hair. “You spoke too well and seemed too canny.”
“I am a smith,” Bill said quietly. “I am just other things as well.”
Dogman nodded. “Why are you back?”
“I need some help.”
“Pablo Moreno?”
Bill nodded. “More specifically his son, Pedro Moreno. I’ve been tracking him for weeks. The nearest I got to him was here. He must have left a couple of weeks before I joined.”
“He did. That was why we didn’t speak about it to you. The shock took us a while to get over.”
“I need your help in developing a new act for me. I have to retrieve Pedro Moreno. He has some things that belong to the government. I’m going to join Pablo Moreno’s troupe.
“Are you sure that is a good idea? Even after we warned you about him?”
“Even after that. What Pedro possesses is worth more than my life.” Bill dismounted from the horse and led him across to the small tent he had occupied as the troupe’s smith. “I’m just not sure where to start. You are all so inventive with your acts.”
“What is your act going to be?”
“I thought I would attempt to be a strongman.”
“The breaking of the crowbar.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Would you mind if I brought in Greta and Mary? They are the ones who helped me with my act.”
“Not at all. I need as much help as I can get.”
Dogman nodded and darted away to find the others. Bill tied Raven to a peg in the ground and entered his tent again. The forge stood where he had left it, the embers now cold. He hadn’t envisaged coming back. He picked up the mended crowbar. It was all very well having one trick, but that wouldn’t hold people’s attention for long. And then there was the case of what he should wear, and what his props should be. It was almost as bad as his list for Victoria.
“I know what he should wear.” Dogman wheeled Mary into Bill’s tent on her custom made cart. He held up the tent flap as Greta ducked underneath, pulling her arms in with her. Mary stopped talking and stared at Bill’s coat and breeches. “Very, very nice,” she said approvingly.
Greta sniffed. “I thought you said you were married.”
“It doesn’t stop a woman appreciating a fine specimen, however.”
Bill was a little tired of being talked about like he wasn’t there. “I can’t wear this; Pedro Moreno has already seen me wearing this outfit. He will recognize me immediately.”
“I must admit I double took when I saw you in your finery,” Dogman said. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if it had been the other way round.”
“For example if he had been topless, with just a pair of tight breeches on and bare feet. Perhaps with wet hair… ahem,” said Mary as three faces turned to look at her.
“Is that all you have been thinking about since he left?” Greta asked suspiciously.
“She’s right,” Bill said suddenly. “Take away the clothes and I am completely different. The less I wear the better.”
Both Mary and Greta turned a delicate shade of pink.
“What about your act?” Greta exclaimed, rubbing at her ear. “You’ve demonstrated breaking the crowbar, which was very impressive but a little final.”
“I’m not sure and that is why I need your help.”
“There will certainly be lots of ladies in the audience if these two are anything to go by.” Dogman grinned. “You might be as lucky as I am if you play your cards right.”
“Cards,” Mary whispered, “there’s something in that. What is it? Oh! My husband was showing me how easy it was to rip a playing card in two, but not a whole pack. What if you could do that?”
Bill frowned. He’d never done it before, but it was worth a try. “I can but give it go. What else?”
“Dogman’s right. You’ll need to do something for the ladies. What about a variation on your crowbar theme? Bend a rod of metal around your arm into a flower or something and present it to one of the ladies in the audience?” Greta waved her three arms in excitement. “It will really give them something to remember.”
“I can find a metal to do that easily, something that bends a little more than iron.” Bill took out the piece of paper in his pocket and turned it over. He wrote down the two acts on it. “I need a third.”
“Hmm, carry a horse on your shoulders?”
“What about breaking a chain over your chest while expanding your rib cage?”
Greta rolled her eyes. “Trust Mary. How about lifting something heavy like a ship’s anchor and barrels under your arms?”
“Or the other way round, holding a platform of men on your back?” Dogman’s hair quivered in his excitement. “That seems like enough ideas for your act. You just need to practice now to see what works and what doesn’t.”
CHAPTER 19
Victoria slammed her hand down on the edge of her armchair in frustration. Carruthers jumped and looked at her in grave concern.
“Are you quite alright, my lady?”
Victoria sighed. It was fourteen days and fifteen long nights since she had put forward her proposition to the dastardly Bill Standish. Seven days and eight nights longer than when he should have been breaking down her doorstep to tell her why she should marry him. She hadn’t actually meant to lead him on so much. She wasn’t looking for marriage, just the companionship. And yet the first week she had been unexpectedly excited, engaging in the most frivolous outings such as shopping for a new dress with an enthusiasm she had not felt for a long time.
The day after he should have arrived had been the worst. At least on the day that he should have turned up she had waited, expecting him to come all day. The day after she had waited again, but then realization had dawned slowly but surely. She had considered going back to Freddie’s to root Bill out, but had dismissed it out of hand. She was desperate but not
that
desperate. Bill was probably engaging in all those things that men did, shooting, riding, gambling. Perhaps he had had a heavy week of drinking?
“Would you care for another cup of tea, Lady Colchester?” Carruthers tried to reach her again.
“Hell and damnation, Carruthers. I do not want any tea, cake, biscuits, dog company, friend company or anything of the kind. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Um.”
“Don’t answer that question truthfully.”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
At least the darkness hadn’t come back. It seemed that as her anger had grown, the beast had shrunk back into its hole. Once she got her hands on Bill she would…well she wasn’t sure what she would do. After all, he was just treating her in the same way as she had treated him for the past year. In fact, she acknowledged ruefully, it was a very good taste of her own medicine.
“There is a lady at the door to see you, Lady Colchester.” Carruthers appeared again at the slightly opened drawing room door, not even opening it fully as if afraid of his mistress’ temper.
“Send her in.” Victoria sniffed. Perhaps this person would distract her. She could try out her newfound anger on someone and see how they reacted.
“Lady Colchester, how lovely to see you again.”
Oh dear. Not the person that she wanted to see. “Celine. You look stunning today.”
Indeed Celine did. But not in the usual siren like attire. Celine was clad in all black, with a whitened pallor.
“I am in mourning for my only true love,” Celine said grandly. She collapsed into one of the tub chairs and laid a hand on her forehead.
“Tell me which true love might that be?” Victoria pushed a lock of hair back from her face. Hmm, this newfound cattiness had found just the outlet it needed.
“Edward, of course.” Celine sat up and stared at Victoria.
“Oh, do pardon me for being confused, you see there was my brother at one time, and then some other gentleman, and then Mr. Fiske and
then—
” Victoria stopped with barely a choke—“and then there was Mr. Standish.”
“And therein lies the demise of my relationship with Mr. Fiske.” Celine lay back and put a hand theatrically to her face. “I met Mr. Standish for a walk in the park, and planted an innocent but grateful kiss upon his face, and who should see but my one, my only.”
“Yes, yes.” Walk in the park, really did the woman take her for a fool?
“My Edward. He’s turned me away, oh whatever shall I do?”
“Firstly you can pull yourself together.”
Celine took the artfully draped hand away from her face and peeped at Lady Colchester. Her eyes were dry, although creases around her eyes were evident.
“Oh,” she said.
“Yes, quite. And whilst you are at it, you can sit up and stop lolling in my chair.”
Celine’s lips twitched. “My, the cat has claws hasn’t she?” she murmured softly. “How interesting.”
“Not as interesting as your feigned histrionics of the last five minutes.” Victoria was just beginning to enjoy herself. Goodness. Was this what it felt like if you told people what you really felt? It was liberating. “Why are you really here, Celine?”
Celine pursed her lips and her shoulders slumped. “There was no one else I could come and talk to.”
Victoria blinked. Celine wanted to talk to her? “What about Agatha or Melissa or anyone of Lady Anglethorpe’s
salon
? They know you better than I.”
“Yes, but you are the only one who knows Bill Standish well.”
“I’m not sure I would say that…”
“You know him, and you two are uncannily alike,” Celine said obstinately.
“I can assure you we are not related. There have been too many skeletons in that closet for Mr. Standish to address, let alone on my side.” Indeed it was true. Bill was the illegitimate half-brother of Lord Stanton which had only been revealed after Lord Stanton had nearly died at the hands of another despicable relative.
Celine waved her hand airily. “No, no, I don’t mean like that. I mean in the way you act. You have a way of getting people to tell you things.”
“That is not a fact on which to base an assumption that Mr. Standish and I are alike.”
Celine stared at Victoria. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“I’m not going to tell you until you do.”
“Celine, I’m not here to play games.”
“Ahem,” Carruthers coughed through the semi open door. “You have another visitor, my lady.”
“Oh, send her in too.” Victoria couldn’t resist. Who cared about subterfuge?
“Can I send in some tea now too?”
“What, yes of course.”
Celine giggled. “Your poor butler. Whatever did you say to him?” As Victoria turned to look at her, Celine sobered. “Forget I asked.”
“May I come in, Lady Colchester?”
Victoria had forgotten about her latest visitor, whose trembling voice indicated a clear need of some restorative tea.
“Do come in.” Victoria blinked as her latest visitor entered falteringly. “Mrs. Prident!” She stood up and brushed to the back of her desk and pulled out the large chair that sat behind the desk. “Sit down, sit down, whatever happened?”
“Maisie and Rosie are gone!”
“Who are Maisie and Rosie?” Celine asked curiously.
“Just sit still and be quiet, Celine. Sit down please, Mrs. Prident.”
The trembling woman sank slowly into the desk chair. Carruthers entered with a large pot of tea and more cake, followed by Ponzi and Brutus.
“My goodness,” Mrs. Prident said faintly as Brutus laid a head on her knee.
“I’m sorry about him. He tends to think he can help when he meets people in distress. Down, Brutus, otherwise no cake for you.”