Tiger's Eye (39 page)

Read Tiger's Eye Online

Authors: Karen Robards

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Suspense

LIII

T
o Alec’s vague surprise, Paddy was taking dinner with Pearl in her suite when he arrived at the Carousel. He joined them, glad to be back in his old haunt but feeling as though something was slightly amiss. He supposed he must be missing Isabella, and felt absurd. He was a grown man, not a callow youth.

“Alec!” Pearl cried as he entered, abandoning her meal to envelop him in a hug. Alec hugged her back, and returned her more than enthusiastic kiss, but his heart and mind were both elsewhere.

“Alec.” If Paddy sounded less enthusiastic than Pearl, Alec, with the heightened senses of the newly in love, suspected it was because his old friend had quite a tendre in that direction himself, and was getting tired of seeing the object of his adoration fawn upon his best friend.

“Paddy.” He grinned and shook Paddy’s hand, then availed himself of Pearl’s offer to join them at their meal.

“So how’s the little countess?” Pearl asked with just the faintest hint of malice as he sat.

“Isabella,” Alec said, stressing her name, “is just fine.” Then, over a dish of creamed mutton, he looked at Paddy. “What did you want to see me about?”

Paddy was frowning, his eyes on Pearl, but at that he looked at Alec.

“I had a bit of luck the other day. A bloke what was trying to get in with us came to me with some news: ’tis Rothersham who’s behind the attempts to put you in your grave.”

“Rothersham!” Alec stared at Paddy. “Are you sure?”

Paddy shrugged. “It all fits. According to the bloke, Rothersham don’t like it that you bought his house. Been in the family for generations, and all that. Didn’t he make you an offer to buy it back a year or so ago and you turned him down? Well, he didn’t like that. So like the gentleman he is, hating to get his hands dirty, don’t you know, or maybe just a bit of a pudding-heart, he put out the word that he was willing to pay to see you dead.

“John Ball heard of it, got in touch with him, made the deal, and hired Rat-face Hardy to murder you. Only Ratface died, and you didn’t. Instead you hid out here, and no one could find you. Until John Ball happened to be in the Carousel that night that your lady ran out into the hall. He got a glimpse of me, too, I would imagine, and figured out where you were. So he tried again, with two operatives this time for a good measure. Only you didn’t die again. So he set a man to watching the Carousel, and when you went down to Horsham, he was right behind you.

“You winged that bugger pretty good, by the way. I hear he won’t be ridin’ a horse again, ever. But Ball followed him down, to make sure the deed really was done that time. He must not have been able to believe his luck when he stumbled across you at the Traveler’s Rest. He tried again—did it himself, this time—only to have a hole blown through his shoulder by the countess. So he ran away, but he didn’t give up.

“When I got to him he was making plans to bribe one of the servants at Amberwood. Well, he’s no longer a threat, but as long as Rothersham is willing to put up the money to see you dead, he’ll find takers. If you don’t want to be dodging musket balls the rest of your life, we’ll need to take care of him.”

“Damn it to hell and back,” Alec said thoughtfully. “I was looking in entirely the wrong direction.”

“So was I. If this bloke hadn’t come to me and talked, I never would have tumbled to it.”

“You did good work, Paddy, and I thank you.” Alec saluted Paddy with his wineglass, and got a wry smile in return. “You know, I gather, where Rothersham might be found?”

“I know,” Paddy said grimly, and took a sip of his own wine. “He’s a member of Boodle’s, and he’s engaged there tonight. I suggest we have someone waiting outside when he leaves.”

“No. This one I want to handle myself.”

“I thought you might. Well, then, shall we make use of the card rooms here until midnight? No point in hoping to catch Rothersham until after that.”

“You’re coming?”

“Would I let you go without me? You’re a might too hot-headed for my liking, Alec. You need a calm head at your back.”

“And that’s you,” Alec said, grinning.

“That’s me,” Paddy agreed tranquilly, and pushed his chair back.

LIV

T
he night was, to say the least, eventful. Alec took a certain grim pleasure in the look on Rothersham’s face when he and Paddy stepped out of the shadows and pulled his nobleness into their carriage instead of the one that waited for him. Rothersham, faced with two of London’s most dangerous men, confessed everything and cried like a baby for mercy. Paddy was all for killing him and throwing his body in the Thames. Alec, mellowed perhaps by the throes of true love, seriously considered Paddy’s suggestion, but in the end contented himself with getting in a few well-placed body blows and giving Rothersham the fright of his life. Toward dawn, they threw him out of the carriage in the worst section of Whitechapel to fend for himself amongst the street carrion and find his way home as best he could. Alec was confident that they’d done all that was needed to remove the threat Rothersham posed.

“If anything happens, or almost happens to me, he knows he’ll be the first one we’ll visit,” Alec said nonchalantly to Paddy as they rode in well-upholstered comfort back to the Carousel. “I don’t think he’ll soon forget that.”

Paddy shook his head at him. “You’re getting soft, Alec. I never thought I’d live to see the day. Is it the countess?”

Alec scowled, his eyebrows meeting fiercely over his nose so that he looked ferocious in the uncertain light of the carriage lamp. But Paddy, who had known him longer than anyone, was unimpressed. Finally Alec succumbed to a reluctant grin.

“Maybe. Women are the very devil, ain’t they?”

“They are.” Paddy was silent then, doubtless thinking of whichever female had caused his heartfelt agreement to Alec’s wry pronouncement. Alec had a sudden feeling that he knew exactly who had brought the unaccustomed gloom to Paddy’s face.

“Is it Pearl you’re hankering after?”

Paddy’s head came up at that. He looked almost guilty, and his face turned beet red. Finally he nodded, a quick, shamefaced jerk of his head. “Aye, the saucy bawd’s got me tied up in knots. Do you mind?”

With that question Paddy acknowledged Alec’s prior claim, and silently offered to bow out of the picture if Alec did mind. But Alec shook his head.

“I’ve other fish to fry. Pearl’s a good girl, one of the best, but she and I …it’s never been true love between us. Though I’ve a care for her, of course, and always will. But you may have her, and welcome.”

“Aye—if only she felt the same,” Paddy said gloomily. “She’s willing enough for a quick tumble, but I—fool that I am, and I know it—I don’t want her bedding anyone but me. Can you see me telling Pearl that? She’d laugh in my face, and I wouldn’t blame her. She’s done as she’s pleased since she was a wee lass, and if she’s ever fancied anyone enough to give up the gents entirely, it’s you. But I can’t stomach the idea of her being so free with her favors. Sometimes, when I know she’s got a man with her, I have to leave the Carousel to keep from committing a bloody murder. So how’s that for a fine laugh?”

Alec grimaced sympathetically. “I’d say you’re in quite a fix, my friend. Pearl fancies you—I think even more than she knows. But for her to be faithful—that’s like asking a bird not to fly. She’s a lusty wench; it’s just her nature.”

“Don’t you talk about Pearl like that!” Paddy said, firing up.

Alec held up a quieting hand, then grinned. “You’re in a sad way, aren’t you? You know I love the chit like a sister, and meant no disrespect.”

“Aye, I know it.” Paddy sighed, relaxed back against the squab, and shook his head in disgust at himself. “It’s just that she’s got me so tied up in knots that I scarce know if I’m going or coming.”

With another deep sigh Paddy pulled a cigar case from his pocket, offered it first to Alec, who extracted a fat brown cigar, then helped himself to one. After lighting them on the carriage lamp, both men sat puffing in silence for a while. Then Alec took the cigar from his mouth.

“Hell, Paddy, were I in your shoes, I’d keep her so busy that she wouldn’t have time to even think of other men, much less do anything else with one. Bed the wench morning, noon and night until she begs for mercy. Stake your claim, and let her know you mean business. If she squawks, don’t take no for an answer, just pick her up and carry her to bed. When you have her there, tell her you’re mad with wanting her. Females like that.”

Paddy glanced over at Alec, an arrested expression on his face. Then his brows lifted quizzically, and he began to grin around the cigar.

“Now, there’s an idea,” he said. “Provided she don’t shoot me. But if I stake my claim, and she ups and turns those great eyes of hers on another man—even you, my friend—it’d be all I could do not to break her bloody neck. Or his. Or yours.”

“Noble sentiments,” Alec said approvingly. “I know just how you feel. But you’ll never know how Pearl feels until you put it to the touch.”

“Maybe I will.” Paddy chomped down on his cigar, and frowned at the seat opposite him. “Maybe I just will.”

And with that they arrived at the Carousel.

Alec meant to make the drive back to Amberwood as early as possible after breakfast, and it was already close to dawn, so he went straight upstairs to his chamber and undressed for bed. Paddy stayed below, Alec presumed to search out Pearl and start staking his claim. Grinning as he anticipated the fireworks that were certain to ensue, he blew out the lights and crawled between the sheets. But despite the lateness of the hour, and his exhaustion, he couldn’t sleep. God, how he missed Isabella!

Thus when the key turned stealthily in his lock, and his door swung open, he was still awake.

It was too dark to see anything of the intruder, but as the door closed behind whoever it was, Alec knew with a certainty that didn’t depend on sight that he was no longer alone.

Someone was in the room with him.

Christ, had they made a mistake in blaming Rothersham? But the slimy toad had confessed; there was no possibility of error. Could this be another would-be-assassin, so soon after he had eliminated the first?

Alec almost groaned aloud. He was getting bloody tired of constantly fighting for his life.

He stiffened, readying himself for a spring as the intruder approached his bed. Just when he was ready to launch himself at the stranger’s throat, he got a whiff of perfume. Then, before he recovered from the sheer surprise of it, he was enveloped in the voluptuous scent of her as she plopped herself down on his bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Even as her lips sought his, his hands closed over her arms and held her away.

“Good God, Pearl, you might give a man some warning,” he growled, thwarting her efforts to rub her breasts against his chest with more dexterity than tact. “Stop it, now! Be still! Christ, do you realize I nearly throttled you?”

“Quit grumbling, Alec, and kiss me, do! Oh, I’ve missed you, lover!” She strained toward him, and he leaned so far back in an effort to ward her off that he hit his head on the wall with a solid-sounding crack.

“Hold on now …”he ordered, wincing.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” she pouted, still pursuing. Then, when he didn’t laugh and pull her against him, as she expected, she jerked free and got to her feet to stand arms akimbo beside the bed. “You
don’t
want to kiss me! Do you?”

“Now, Pearl,” he placated feebly, rubbing the back of his head. “Don’t take a pet. ’Tis not that I don’t want to…”

“Then what is it?” She sounded thoroughly affronted. She was close enough for him to make out the luscious shape of her through the shadows. Her question had an ominous ring to it. Cursing himself for a want-wit, Alec sought frantically for an answer that would pacify her. On this of all nights, he realized he should have been expecting her. For years now she had been his most constant bed partner. He had been away from her for some weeks, and she fancied herself more than a little in love with him, he knew. Of course, on his single night in town before returning to Amberwood, she would seek out his bed. And ordinarily he would have welcomed her with open arms. But now—there was Isabella. And Paddy. Why he had failed to anticipate this highly embarrassing situation, he couldn’t fathom, but he had. And now he had to get over heavy ground as lightly as he could.

“ ’Tis obvious you wish me at Jericho,” Pearl said with an edge to her voice as he failed to answer. “Knowing you, I should’ve guessed that bedding with a real live countess would spoil you for us gutter folk. That’s it, ain’t it? I’m not good enough for you anymore! Tell me, is she better in the sack than she looks? I would’ve thought ’er a dull piece, myself, but then, what would a ’ore know about a
lady?”

“Now, Pearl, hold on.” As familiar with her temper as he was, Alec was quick to try to placate her. The last thing in the world he wanted was for her to give way to a screaming tantrum that would inevitably bring Paddy charging to the rescue. “Let me light the candle, and we’ll talk a bit.”

“Talk!” she sputtered as he touched flint to steel and lit the bedside candle. The wick caught, and as the soft pool of light spread over the room, he looked up at her. Her hair was loose and well brushed so that it glinted in the candlelight as if it had been sprinkled all over with the dust from a million diamonds. Her lovely skin glowed white above and through the diaphanous gold bedgown she wore. Her face was as beautiful as it had always been. Her body was as breathtakingly magnificent as ever. But she stirred nothing in him save acute embarrassment, and regret that he must hurt her.

What he felt for Isabella must be love if it left him totally cold to Pearl’s dazzling array of charms.

“Sit, Pearl, please.” Alec patted the side of the bed invitingly.

“So that we can
talk?”
She spoke through her teeth, her arms crossing beneath her nearly bare bosom so that the luscious globes threatened to burst forth in all their naked glory with every indignant shake of her head.

Her eyes flashed warning sparks as they ran over him, returned to his face. “That tells me all I need to know, I guess. You’re a ’orny bastard, usually. Does the little countess’s blue blood make up for ’er lack of a chest, or ’ips, or any other female attraction? She looks kind of puny for your taste, but then, she’s a countess, ain’t she?”

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