Beth through time, p.15
Beth Through Time, page 15
Henry’s right leg rested between my legs providing a sweet kind of pressure. I wanted more. More of this feeling. More of him.
“What do I do? I-I never,” I confessed.
Henry stilled and broke his kiss to look at me.
“Should I undress?”
Some undefinable emotion crossed Henry’s face and he groaned, pushing himself up from me.
“What is wrong?”
Henry sat down at the edge of the bed and turned his head away. “You are an innocent debutante. We cannot do this. You should return home, return to your own social circles without being ruined.”
I reached for his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and stood. Blanching, I pulled down the hem of my shirt. As for my disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips, there was nothing I could do.
Tears pricking behind my eyes as I said, “I thought you wanted me, too.”
“Do not be naive,” Henry shot out.
The barb hit its intended target. My chest contracted in pain. What a pretty little fool I was to be taken in twice by such villainous men. The last of the heat left my body until my limbs turned to ice.
“I shall go then,” I said flatly.
“You should.” Henry resembled a pillar the way he stood stiff and rigid beside the bed; his face pulled into an emotionless mask. What had happened? Only moments ago, I had been teasing my fingers along the skin on his still bare chest. I scrambled off the bed and swiped my hands across my wild hair in an effort to smooth it back into some semblance of propriety.
Henry’s gaze seemed disconnected as if he was trying his hardest not to see me. “Do not come looking for me again. With any luck, we will not find each other at the same social events while I finish what I started. Soon I will return to Ireland and you shall forget I ever even existed.”
I snatched my cape from the chair in a huff. “You are discarding me so you can dance and flirt with that Mary Chapman. I saw you all over her at Mrs. Alcott’s musicale.”
“And what if I was,” he said, his voice almost bored. “My business with Ms. Chapman is my own.”
I touched my fingers to my sore lips. “Your own...Yes, I suppose it is.” I threw the cape around my shoulders and stomped towards the door. “I wish I never met you,” I hurled at Henry as I exited the room.
“As you wish,” Henry whispered behind me, but I was too angry to stop and glance back. I hurried down the steps, burying my face in the depths of my hood, hoping no one should notice my departure.
20
The Gentleman Thief
“Covent Garden, please.”
I managed to procure a hackney cab, though the driver gave me a strange look when he heard my voice.
“Tis an odd time for a woman to be out by herself.” His eyes flashed from my face to my trousers.
“I need to go home. Will you take me?” I pulled out coin from my pocket and held it up to his face.
His eyes flitted back to my face and after a long considering sniff, he snatched the money from my hands and stuffed it into his satchel. His long, thin fingers patted the worn leather after he closed it. With a huff, the driver jumped down from the driver’s seat and opened the carriage door. The soft glow from the streetlamps glinted off the man’s short silver beard.
“None o’ my business where ye are going, miss. Get yerself in.”
Darkness swallowed me up as I entered the cabin and perched myself on the slim bench. The lack of light suited me just fine. I did not want to think about what had happened with Edmund—no, Henry—just now, but my mind kept replaying every moment. I touched my fingers to my lips, still sore from his kisses. Did I really let him carry me to bed even after finding out who he was? He did not take it any further, of course. I suppose I should be glad for that. What had I been thinking? By Jove, he was a criminal. Perhaps one who did more good than bad but a criminal nonetheless.
A criminal who had stolen my heart...
And despite me knowing the truth, he had still turned me away. I had really done it now. All I could hope for was that my family was still out when I got home. I did not want to have to explain my late-night absence.
The black cab jostled as it turned onto another street, and I was left contemplating the choices I had made until the wheels creaked to halt and we stopped at the side of the road near Covent Garden. From there, it was only a short walk back to the house John was renting.
“Be safe, miss,” the driver said with a tip of his black hat. I nodded and stepped onto the pavement. With a snap of his reins, the hackney cab driver shot off into the night, on his way to find another paying customer.
Shivering in the cool night air, I rubbed my arms to improve my circulation. The stench of the day market still lingered, rotting vegetables and the accumulated excrement of horses providing a heady, unpleasant smell. The manure would not be removed until the crack of dawn when young urchins swept the streets. Somewhere, an owl hooted, breaking through the silence.
I walked the few streets back to the house we were staying. At first glance, I could not detect any light seeping from the windows. John, Rose, and Anne could still be at the dance, or they could already be asleep. Regardless, I would have to be careful. Letting myself in through the side gate, I sneaked up to the house and entered through the servants’ entrance. Soft snores reverberated through the hallway as I crept past the servants’ bedrooms.
I managed to get all the way up to the second floor where Anne and my bedrooms were located without incident. I stood outside Anne’s door and held my breath as I listened for any sounds that might tell me she was inside, but there were none.
My chest squeezed. I had hoped Anne was home; I wanted my friend. With a sigh, I undid the cloak and returned to my room.
I threw the cloak over the side of my vanity stool and moved on to unbuttoning my trouser, my hand skimming along the patch of skin beneath my navel. I paused and repeated the motion with my finger, drawing loose figure eights.
Henry had touched me there, and...I slid my hand up past the side of my breast, stopping at my clavicle. There. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the sensation of his hot breath against my flesh. How my skin tingled wherever he touched me.
The Gentleman Thief had not been very gentlemanly then.
I shook my head to cast out the images of Henry and myself in multiple stages of undress. We were over; he had turned me away. Though part of me wondered if he had pushed me away to protect me. He was a wanted man, after all.
I continued unbuttoning my trousers and pulled them off. Next, I removed my shirt, replacing my day clothes with a night gown. When Anne did finally return home, I was brushing out my snarled hair.
Her light and quick steps danced across the old, creaking floor until she reached her bedroom. I dropped the brush onto my vanity and shot out the door.
“Anne.”
Her hand reached for the doorknob, but she dropped it to her side when she heard my voice and turned towards me.
“I imagined you would be asleep by now. Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.” Her face was bright and slightly flushed. She looked happy.
“You did not wake me.” I bounced forward and pulled her into a hug. She leaned into my grip, resting her chin against my shoulder.
“What is that for?” she asked, her voice muffled by my hair.
“I am glad you have returned. Now...tell me, how was your night?”
“How about I tell you while I take down my hair?” Anne opened the door to her room and sat down at her vanity. She raised her hands and pulled at a section of curls pinned together against her scalp.
“Let me.” I stepped behind her and grabbed the pin, gently teasing it out of her hair.
Anne sighed and seemed to sink into the chair. “That feels so much better.” She kicked off her pink slippers beneath the vanity. One dark curl fell to the side of her face. I moved on to the other pins.
“Your brother and Rose danced almost the entire evening. I overheard a couple of matrons gossiping about it. Apparently, it is uncouth to only dance with your wife; he was supposed to give some of the eligible ladies a chance to shine also.” Anne raised her brow and smirked.
I rolled my eyes at her and laughed. “John has no interest in following the advice of society mothers. That ended once he married Rose.” I worked another pin out of Anne’s hair and dropped it on a small dish on top of her vanity.
Anne glanced down at her elegant hands; the tips of her ears reddened. I wondered what she was thinking, but before I could ask, she said, “The place we went to this evening had an orangerie, so Willa and I sneaked away from the dancing to explore.” Anne paused and reddened even further; she looked up shyly, our eyes meeting in the mirror. “We were the only ones there, and she kissed me on the cheek.”
“Did you want her to?”
Anne nodded. “I think I did.” She swallowed. “Yes, but what does it mean?”
“Did you ask Willa what it meant?”
“I-no.” Anne turned her head to look up at me. “Should I have?”
I patted Anne on the crown of her head as I fished out the last of the pins and let down her full head of dark curls. “What do you want it to mean?”
Anne chewed the corner of her fingernail. “I do not know. I...like Willa.” She spat out the words as if with great effort, swiveling around in her seat. “But there is my family to consider; Mary, Randolph, and Mama, they are relying on me. I set out to find someone to marry me this season. Your brother so graciously offered to sponsor me and even offered to provide a dowry, and now...and now, I feel conflicted.” Worry lines etched into her marble forehead. “I do not know what to do, and I am not certain of what Willa wants either.”
“Perhaps you can ask what Willa wants. However, when it comes down to your family, you are not alone. Who knows, there might still be another solution that does not involve marriage with a random man.”
Anne pursed her lips and pointed her finger at my chest. “And what about you? What are you going to do?”
My eyes darted to the side, avoiding Anne’s assessing stare.
“Will you stop thinking about that man, whoever he is?”
“The Gentleman Thief,” I answered before I could stop myself.
Anne’s eyes rounded, her mouth turning into a perfect circle. “Wait...what?”
I scrambled. “Nothing, it is nothing.”
“No, it is not nothing.” She crossed her arms. “That is why you wanted a hug. You went to see him tonight, am I right? Is that why you stayed home to begin with? To sneak out and confront him? Where did you even find the man? He was not at the real duke’s estate.”
I lowered my head and looked apologetic. “I made a guess that since he was escorting Mary Chapman at the musicale he might be in attendance at another event where she might be present.”
“The opening of the new warehouse near the docks.” Anne’s voice sounded baffled. “I read that in the papers.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “You went there by yourself? Anything could have happened. What were you thinking?”
I wondered that exact thing to myself. “I found him,” I told Anne. “He was renting a room near the Thames. I knocked on his door and demanded he tell me who he was.”
Anne’s frown deepened, and she stood and walked to her dresser to pour a glass of water.
“He told me his nom de guerre, the Gentleman Thief.”
Anne sipped some water. “You should report him to the
Bow Street Runners.”
“No,” I rushed to say. “I will not, I cannot.”
“Why in heavens not?” Anne shook her head and set down her glass.
I paced, wearing lines down the floorboards of Anne’s bedroom. “It is funny,” I said, trailing off. Anne frowned and waited for me to continue. “If I had only paid attention to the other people at the courthouse that day of William’s hearing, I would have recognized him from the very start. It is strange to think we have crossed paths before London.”
Us meeting felt almost serendipitous, but he had pushed me away again and again. Despite everything, I could not turn him in. Perhaps his methods were not in accordance with the law, but he had a strong sense of righteousness. What he did was to help those in need. I had to commend that. “He is a good person.”
“The Gentleman Thief is a criminal. There are warrants out for his arrest.” Anne grabbed my arm. “You put yourself in a lot of danger tonight. Who knows what he might have done?” Her eyes scrutinized my face. Blushing, I wondered if she could tell that I had been thoroughly kissed by him.
Anne seemed to think, noticing the redness creeping up my face. “Did he...? Are you?” She asked it gently, monitoring my reaction.
I shook my head. “No.”
She let out her breath. “Good.”
“He kissed me, but that is all. We did not take things further.”
“And you will not report him?”
“No,” I said, decidedly. “Despite his lies, he is a good man.” Henry might have pushed me away but his intentions were honorable in regards to everything else.
Anne let out a weary chuckle. “Look at the two of us; one has fallen for a thief while the other needs to marry for money but loves someone she cannot marry.”
“Love?” I looked up at Anne.
Anne smiled bashfully and shrugged. “I suppose I do.”
“Willa is very lucky.”
Anne breathed in deeply. “I do not know what to do.”
“We will figure out a plan.” I glanced at Anne’s clothing. She was still wearing the pink satin dress she wore to the dance. “How about you change into your night gown and we heat up some milk?
“Would we not wake the staff?”
I smirked. “When I slipped past their doors earlier, I could hear them snoring. I think, as long as we are quiet, we should be fine.”
Anne tutted as she moved to undress herself. “I still cannot believe you went to the docks by yourself in the middle of the night.”
“In trousers.”
Anne stifled a laugh, her eyes crinkling.
I smiled. “You should have seen the cab driver who took me home when he first heard my voice.”
This time, Anne laughed. “Beth, you have no shame.” She pulled on her nightgown.
A soft knock sounded on the door. I glanced back to see the door creak open and Rose’s face peeking around the corner.
“Hi, I just wanted to check in on you,” Rose said, looking at me. “Your room was empty, so I figured you were with Anne.”
Anne picked up a hair tie from her vanity. “Come on in. We were going about to go downstairs for some warm milk, if you would like to join?”
“I would like that.”
“Would John like to join as well?” Anne’s fingers raked her hair and tamed the strands into a braid, tying it off with the tie.
“He’s gone to bed. I think we can keep it to us girls.” Rose winked.
The three of us, barefooted and dressed in long, flowing nightgowns, descended the staircase as a trio of specters that haunt the darkened halls in a ghost story. We tiptoed past the corridors until we reached the kitchen.
“I will fetch the milk,” Anne said, heading for the larder. Rose grabbed a fire poke from its spot on the wall and squatted down in front of the cast-iron hob grate.
“Can you hand me some more coal?”
The leftover coals were smoldering in the bottom of the grate, waiting to be fed additional fuel. Rose poked at the coals, making sure additional oxygen reached the center. I grabbed a handful of coals from the basket and dropped them in as Rose leaned to the side. Small flames licked up the sides of the new, still black coal, casting an orange glow.
Anne returned, heaving a pail of milk and set it down on an open workspace. A while later, we sat down, enjoying three steaming cups of milk that had been heated up on the hob grate.
Rose sighed and brushed her hand along her stomach. “If only I could get Oreos. A type of cookie from back home,” she clarified. “I’ve been craving sweets, and they would have gone well with the milk.”
“Perhaps John can spoil you and order sweetmeats or ices from Gunter’s Tea Shop. We could always bring dry sweetmeats like taffy, butterscotch, or sugared almonds back with us when we return to Hawthorne.”
“Now that is a bright idea. I will have to ask John in the morning.”
21
Gunter's Tea Shop
“Tom, why not let Estelle join you up front?” John said to the driver and stable master. Estelle beamed and scurried to his side, excited to be invited along. Tom held out his hand and helped Estelle up onto the drivers bench on the carriage.
“You really don’t mind, sir?” she asked again in her French- accented English, rearranging her skirts until she sat comfortably. “Gunter’s is expensive.”
John smiled magnanimously. “Not at all, the season is nearly over so let us all enjoy some ices. Perhaps we can even get some sweets to give to the rest of the staff at Hawthorne. I am certain Mrs. Avery and her niece Clara would like some caramels. What do you think Hugh would like?”
“Marzipan.”
“Then I shall include some of that as well.” John turned to, Anne, Rose, and myself. “Ready, ladies?” He held open the door and let us enter the carriage first. Then, after ensuring Rose was seated, slid in next to her.
Tom stopped the carriage at the east side of Berkley Square. John pulled back the curtains. A variety of people stood outside the confectionery shop, flaunting their ices.
John signaled with his hand and a waiter strutted towards our carriage. “Would you like to place an order?” A layer of sweat lined the man’s forehead, and some streaks of beige, pink, and green, marred the front of his apron.
“Six ices, please. Your most popular flavors. And,” John pulled a written list and some money notes from his breast pocket, “everything on this list.”
The waiter took the money and list from his hand and returned to the shop. Fifteen minutes later, he returned, handing John a parcel. “These are the sweetmeats you’ve requested. The caramels were sold out, but we can deliver those in a few days.”
