The Vagabond Duchess. Claire Thornton

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ ‘Put it away safely,’ he ordered. ‘Where’s your mother’s workbox?’ Without waiting for a reply he began to feel around for it.

      ‘Why do you want it?’

      ‘I’m taking you to stay with Fanny Berridge.’

      ‘It’s the middle of the night!’

      ‘I don’t have time to wait until morning,’ Jack said. She could hear the impatience in his voice, feel it in his movements as he dropped the workbox on to the bed.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ He took a deep breath, and she sensed his effort to speak more gently. ‘Take this as well.’

      ‘What?’ She held out her hand and felt even more confused when he didn’t give her anything.

      ‘Stand still.’ He lifted his hands over and behind her head. A moment later she felt a slight weight pull at her hair. ‘Keep this until I come back. You’d best put it inside your bodice for safety.’

      She touched her breast and discovered he’d put a chain around her neck. She slid her fingers along the links and found a ring.

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘My ring. I can’t stay now, but I will come back.’

      Temperance reached out to him and her fingers brushed his cheek in the darkness. She couldn’t see him clearly, but he radiated impatient, hard-edged anxiety.

      ‘Why were you searching the Clink for your cousin?’ she asked.

      ‘That’s where they took the prisoners when Newgate burned. Come.’ He took her wrist and pulled her towards the door.

      ‘Wait.’

      ‘I don’t have time—’

      ‘Jack.’ She paused, remembering how he’d helped her overcome her panic in the last moments before she left her shop. Now she must find the words to calm him. ‘There is a little time,’ she said gently. ‘I will go by myself to Fanny’s tomorrow morning. I will be quite safe.’ She cupped his cheek with her palm. ‘So you have that extra time to tell me why you think your cousin was a prisoner in Newgate.’

      She felt him take a carefully controlled breath. She sensed it was hard for him to stand still and talk when he was eager to act.

      ‘When I reached Putney, I found Jakob had sent me a message on Sunday,’ he said. ‘In it he told me he was a prisoner in Newgate and asked me to go and get him out. But when I got back to London I discovered Newgate had already burned. The warders took the prisoners to the Clink, here in Southwark. I followed. I’ve been searching…searching… I even went to Swiftbourne’s house, but he has no news either!’ The torment in Jack’s voice was unmistakable. ‘I keep thinking…perhaps this happened because I stole Jakob’s coat at Dover—but why would they arrest the victim, not the thief?’

      Temperance couldn’t bear to hear the anguish in his voice. She wondered who Swiftbourne was, but she was far more concerned about Jack. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him fiercely.

      ‘That’s foolish,’ she said. ‘A man arrested at Dover would not be put in Newgate. It’s just a mistake and nothing to do with you. And you couldn’t find him in the Clink because, if he’s anything like you, he’s already escaped.’

      For a moment Jack held himself rigid, then his arms closed around her, holding her as tightly as she held him. ‘That’s what I keep telling myself,’ he said. ‘Jakob’s a soldier. It must have been chaos when they tried to move the prisoners. He could easily have escaped then.’

      ‘He may even have been released before the fire ever reached Newgate,’ said Temperance, pleased to feel the tension in Jack ease a few degrees. ‘He’s probably rushing around London looking for you at this very moment.’

      Jack sighed. ‘Most likely. But it was a hell of a shock when I read his letter. I won’t be easy till I’ve found him.’

      ‘I know.’ There were so many things Temperance wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. Jack had come back to her once. She must trust he would return a second time.

      ‘I’ll take you to Fanny’s,’ he said. ‘The streets aren’t safe for a woman alone.’

      Temperance gave a small laugh. ‘I’ve been a woman alone for years,’ she pointed out. ‘I’m a unremarkable tradeswoman. No one will bother me during the day.’

      ‘Very well, but be careful,’ Jack ordered. ‘Go to Bundle’s as soon as you can and don’t let anyone know you have that purse.’

      ‘I’m not a half-wit!’ Temperance said in exasperation. ‘Besides, although I thank you kindly, I can’t take any more of your money—’

      ‘Of course you can. The world is turned upside down. You don’t know when you’ll be able to reclaim your goods and set up shop again. For God’s sake, be practical!’

      Temperance considered herself a very practical tradeswoman. Jack, for all his undoubted loyalty and generosity, was hardly a paragon of that particular virtue. Only a few days ago she’d been upbraiding him for the unnecessary extravagance of buying a periwig. But when he ordered her to be practical in that terse, worried voice, she felt a surge of tenderness towards him.

      She leant forward and, more by luck than judgement, kissed his cheek. ‘Then I thank you very kindly and accept,’ she murmured. ‘I’d hate you to think I’m impractical,’ she added with a glimmer of amusement.

      ‘Good.’ He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her, his mouth fierce and demanding on hers. It was another small reassurance their earlier intimacy was not unimportant to him. Before she had a chance to respond, he lifted his head and stepped back. ‘I’ll return as soon as I can,’ he said. ‘In the meantime, be careful. And no matter how bad business is—don’t try selling muslin in taverns after dark again!’

      Covent Garden, later that night

      Even though it was the early hours of the morning, the coffeehouse buzzed with activity. Bundle was keeping a careful watch on the progress of the fire, but so far he hadn’t opted for flight.

      ‘Coffee or ale?’ he asked Jack laconically.

      ‘Coffee,’ Jack said, looking around the coffee room. ‘Is my cousin here?’

      ‘No one claiming to be your cousin is here.’ Bundle gestured to a serving boy. ‘We haven’t seen you since Sunday.’

      Jack spared him a quick glance. ‘Were you worried?’

      A grin flickered on Bundle’s face. ‘After only three days? Which cousin? What does he look like?’

      ‘Jakob Balston. Big. A couple of inches taller than me. Blond. Swedish.’

      ‘Ah, yes, I remember. No, he hasn’t come here.’

      ‘Diable!’ Jack had known it was a long chance. There was no reason for Jakob to suspect Jack had been staying in the coffeehouse. For the thousandth time he damned himself for not having received Jakob’s message in time. If Jakob died because he had delayed resuming СКАЧАТЬ