He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (2 page)

“Oh, Georgie! Are you all right, my love?”

Anne fell to her knees, trying to assist George up from the ground. He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m so sorry to be late, Annie, but Mr. Hessler kept me, and I had to stay if I’m to continue to support us. But I came as fast as I could.”

As George spoke, his hands cast around for the glasses that had fallen off when he’d tripped. Danni scooped them up a few feet from him and pressed the wire rims into his hand. “There you go, George. Mind your feet now.”

“Yes, Miss Green. I’ll adapt to these new glasses at some point.”

Marcus wasn’t paying any attention. Pieces were clicking together in his head. And as he solved the puzzle, his rage shifted from defending Anne back to condemning her to hell. George was a clerk for his solicitor’s office. George was the man who’d been sent over to the Newport house to arrange the engagement documents. Mr. Hessler had mentioned him frequently. He’d said the boy had a bright future in law. With Marcus’s fury growing at yet another humiliation, he was in the mood to make sure George never reached his potential.

Marcus watched Danni and the lantern-bearer exchange a concerned glance. He’d wager they were worried they wouldn’t get paid if George killed himself in some sort of clumsy accident.

The clerk slid the spectacles back onto his nose before accepting a hand up from the ground by Anne and the burly man. Danni was already walking back towards the driver, her short legs taking quick and confident strides. She pulled a bag from her coat pocket and handed it up to John, the jangle of coins clear across the way. “This should take care of the expenses for the trip. Be careful, John.”

“Always am, Miss Danni.”

He watched as the couple climbed into the coach with Danni holding the door for them. Before they departed, she leaned inside to speak, giving Marcus a delicious view of her derriere. Her voice carried across the street. “Now remember what I said. You are two brothers going on holiday to the north of Scotland until John says it’s safe to change into more appropriate clothing. Then you are Mr. and Mrs. Jenner, on a trip to visit your family. Do not deviate from my plans. They’ve worked before. Is that all understood?”

“Oh, yes! And thank you so much!” Anne’s voice practically squealed with excitement from inside the carriage.

“It was no trouble. I expect to hear from you when you return, and do feel free to recommend my little bookshop to your acquaintances. Discreetly, of course.”

The reflection of light in glasses reached Marcus as the groom spoke. “We will, Miss Green. And again, Anne and I thank you for all your help.”

“Yes, well, off with you now.”

She shut the door and tapped it, giving the signal for the coachman to drive. As it moved forward, Danni waved, a watery smile on her face. “I always love happy endings, Hu. Don’t you?”

The lantern-bearer answered with a grunt. Marcus thought he caught a roll of her eyes as she turned away from the traveling coach. “Honestly, Hubert Tollman, can you do nothing more than grunt? I think I’ve only ever heard you speak one full sentence once in the entire two years I’ve known you.”

Silence reigned before a long-suffering sigh escaped the petite woman. “How in the world did a chatterbox like Annabel ever end up with a man like you, Hubert?”

Again there was no response and Marcus watched as they disappeared into the dark of the night. He stayed in place, waiting for the sound of their footsteps to fade into nothingness before he moved from his hiding spot. Once under the dim light where the event had occurred, he faced the way the coach had gone, and then glanced down the avenue where the two figures had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what to make of all that he’d witnessed, his emotions were still too raw, but one thing he knew for certain.

He needed a drink.

T
hunder boomed overhead, followed promptly by the sound of shattering glass. Danni lifted her nose over the edge of the society column long enough to watch her friend storm down the stairs. Her carrot red hair stood at odd angles, her white muslin dress drenched down the front with afternoon tea. As she reached the bottom step, she slammed her foot down on the ground, grinding out a roar of frustration from the back of her throat.

Danni was thankful the newspaper hid her mouth. She doubted her dearest friend, Annabel, would appreciate the smile curling her lips. “I find it truly singular that your husband manages to avoid speaking even when he is nearly on his deathbed.”

Annabel’s brown eyes narrowed with her ire. “Would that be true. The man is the biggest baby I’ve ever met. Little Simon behaves better when he has a fever. That
man
only has the sniffles!”

“Those are the loudest sniffles I’ve ever heard. Does he save up his noise quota for them?”

As if to prove her point, thunder rolled through the shop again as Hu, Annabel’s husband, sneezed. Annabel stomped her foot in a helpless gesture, her fair skin flushing to match her hair.

“Might I suggest a heavy dose of laudanum?”

“Hu won’t take it. I’ve even tried forcing it down his throat, but that only resulted in an argument.”

“Did the argument consist of glares and sullen stares?”

“Would it kill you to have some sympathy for me?”

“Probably,” she smirked.

Annabel stormed over to stand before Danni. Without warning, the redhead snatched the paper from her hands and proceeded to stomp it beneath her feet. When the paper was crinkled and torn beyond repair, her friend stopped, her color high and her chest rising and falling rapidly from her fury. Danni folded her hands in her lap, leaning back into her reading chair. “Are you quite done?”

Brown eyes narrowed to pinpoints. “I would be careful if I were you.”

Danni couldn’t help but grin with unrepentant glee. “Why is that?”

“You never know when one of your dinners might contain poison.”

Danni’s uproarious laughter was interrupted by the sudden cries of a baby. Her friend’s high color faded, replaced by fatigue. “Now Simon’s awake.”

Sighing, she took pity on Annabel. “Why don’t you go take care of the front for a little while? I’ll see to Simon and the big baby.”

Annabel’s warm arms wrapped around her. Her friend smiled with relief. “Thank you. Don’t pay Hu’s blustering any attention.”

“I never do. Now off with you.”

Her grateful friend rushed away without a backward glance.
No doubt running before I
change my mind.
With a heavy sigh, Danni trudged slowly up the stairs, not looking forward to what awaited her.

She traversed the untidy sitting room, moving along the hall to the small room that belonged to Simon. Leaning over the crib, Danni gathered up the pink cherub, rocking the little one in her arms. The contentment she always felt when holding him washed over her quickly, followed by a sharp ache gripping the region of her heart. She wanted a baby of her own. At four and twenty, she was still young enough, but for years now she had been far too disillusioned with the opposite sex to attach herself to one long enough to procreate. Spending her first and only season surrounded by fortune hunters could do that to a woman.

She longed for her perfect match, her soul mate, a man made just for her, but that seemed a dream for only a few lucky couples. Caring for Simon always brought to mind the match her father wanted to arrange for her. His choice was a rising political star by the name of Michael Rathbourne, the Earl of Hemsworth. He was a perfect gentleman, who always treated her as if she were a princess. Lord Rathbourne was rather dashing, too, with stunning hazel eyes and a dazzling smile. In the past two months, he’d been her escort to balls and operas, earning her more than one envious glance from debutantes and their mothers. According to all, he was the catch of the decade, and she should be thrilled to marry him. She knew he would be a courteous husband and believed she could grow to love him. And, perhaps, with time, that grand passion she dreamed of would be hers as well.

Her father, a member of Parliament, would be thrilled to have the earl’s political connection and Danni wanted desperately to please him, to bring back the father he used to be. Perhaps, if she agreed to the match, her father would finally return to being the kind and warm man he had been before her mother’s death, not the distant, cold figure she’d grown so accustomed to.

Pushing away the crushing loss that she would no doubt carry for the rest of her life, she consoled herself with the love she felt for this little boy. She ran her finger over Simon’s crinkled brow, watching it smooth under her repeat strokes. His puppy brown eyes widened, and his favorite appendage—his big toe—popped into his mouth. She wanted a child just like him to love. And she could have that with the earl. All she had to do was say “yes” to her father. It all seemed so
very
easy, and yet…she hesitated to do so.

I’m such a fool.

With a soft smile and a sigh, she laid the bundle back in his wooden crib and handed him his carved blocks to gnaw. “Simon, I need you to behave for a few moments while I care for the
real
baby, all right?”

The one-year-old paid her no mind, already occupied by the chewable corners of the blocks. Leaving the room, she entered the one across the hall. A sputtered laugh escaped her when she spied Hu. He sat with his back propped up against the headboard, a lethal glare in his eyes, but a hot water pack draped over his head and his shiny red nose ruined the effect. Danni swallowed more laughter. She moved to his bed, rewrapping the layers of quilts around him and ignoring his glittering gaze. “Poor honey bear!”

His frown sharpened fiercely at the one endearment of Annabel’s she knew he despised. Danni had no doubt she would be dead if Hu had had the strength for it. Stifling another laugh, she grabbed the bottle of laudanum Dr. Peters had delivered. Hu’s jaw tightened at the sight, as if she could overpower him and force it down his throat.

She turned the brown bottle over in her hands, examining the barely touched contents inside. “Annabel needs a rest. She’s left you in my
very
capable hands.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw trepidation cross his face.
Good.
She and Hu both knew she would not put up with his self-pitying theatrics. “My first order of business is to entertain you, since you do not seem to need anything else at the moment. Shall I read the latest finding from the British Archaeological Association? Or perhaps you’d be more interested in Fordyce’s
Sermons
? As you know, I’m ever in need of improving my behavior.”

Resigned, Hu silently reached for the medicine. Danni handed him the bottle and grinned as he took a swig of the contents. Hu screwed on the cap and returned the bottle to her with a glare before settling deeper into the covers. “That’s what I thought. Have a good rest, honey bear.”

With that parting shot, Danni sailed out of the room and walked down the stairs. She was about to settle into her chair with the second copy of the paper she always kept on hand. If Annabel didn’t get to it in a fit of temper, Simon’s curious mouth did. She had just tucked it under her arm to gather a quill and ink when a frazzled Annabel returned to the backroom.

“What are you doing down here? Where are Hu and Simon?”

“Both are fast on their way to sleep.”

Annabel’s shock that her “boys” were behaving was interrupted by an angry ring from the bell above the front door. Her harried look returned. “I don’t know what to do. Several customers have asked for assistance and I can’t find anything in the store. Hu knows where all the stock is inventoried, not me.”

“So that bell was…” She trailed off.

“Another customer leaving!”

Danni sighed. She didn’t know what books they carried either. Hu was the one who usually ran the bookstore and Annabel assisted him with the transactions on occasion. Danni always entered through the back alleys and didn’t even order the new books when inventory needed replenishing. She only cared about what happened in the back.

To unsuspecting society, G. Green Books was a reputable establishment on Bond Street, in possession of fine quality reading, but Gretna Green Bookings, the illicit elopement agency for forbidden lovers, was run from the backroom. In exchange for running the front of the store, Danni allowed Hu and Annabel to live in the rooms above it and paid them handsomely with the profits from the book sales. Often she split the income from Gretna Green Bookings with them as well.

Danni had no need for the money. She was the daughter of James Strafford, Baron Seaton, one of the most influential men in the realm, and Mary Stowe, the wealthiest heiress to ever grace London’s elite ballrooms. Not only had they loved her, but they, quite unfashionably, had loved each other. Danni’s mission was to give others the chance to have what her own parents were fortunate enough to share: the kind of respect and passion that lasted a lifetime.

The thought of her mother always caused great sadness to overtake her. Mary Strafford died shortly after Danni’s failed debut in London society six years ago, leaving Danni alone with her grief-stricken father. Her father had quickly immersed himself in his politics, leaving her unsupervised. Feeling both orphaned and abandoned, Danni had been ecstatic when Annabel turned to her for help to elope with one Hubert Tollman. She’d been so desperately lonely and aching for adventure. The events had given her an idea and soon after her business had been born.

“Go rest. I’ll shout if I need you.”

“But—”

“You look exhausted, Annabel. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“Danni—” The redhead tried again.

She ignored her friend and stepped through the door that divided the store. With a resounding slam, she shut it in Annabel’s face, effectively cutting off all that was—while not quite illegal—frowned upon.

A woman running a bookstore was bad enough, but if her actual occupation as lady in shining armor who rescued fair damsels from evil suitors was exposed, said lady’s reputation would be in tatters and her father’s political career would be destroyed. Not to mention the irate mothers and fathers who would cheerfully string her up by her toes for interfering in their fine marriage contracts.

Her poor toes curled in protest at the thought as she glanced around the storefront. Thankfully, it was empty of customers. Praying no one would enter, she went behind the counter to find the quill and ink pot. Unfolding the daily newspaper across the countertop, she studied the listings of engagements and gossip columns, looking for possible clients. It was just good business sense to be in possession of the latest information, since one of these young ladies could come through her door at any minute seeking assistance.

At that very thought, the bell above the door rang. Hoping it was actually one of the possible clients she’d been considering moments before, she folded her paper and she walked from behind the counter with a greeting on her lips.

Her first thought, as the customer appeared from behind one of the bookcases, was that a prior customer had sent a thug to inflict revenge for poor service. Standing before her was a monster out of a fairy tale. The air virtually crackled around him with barely contained violence, an animalistic draw that kept her eyes riveted as if he would lunge at any moment. He towered over her, a giant with mile-long limbs as thick as trees. His square face was littered with the ravages of a hard life. One scar traveled down the left side of his face from his hairline to the underside of his jaw. Another split a fair brow in two, barely missing his eye. The third slashed across his chin, pulling at his full lower lip. He turned the side of his head with the most vicious scar away from her slightly, his overly long white-blond hair shifting across his brow.

Nothing about this man was reassuring. His eyes made her feel like an object of prey. They were bright as emeralds and just as cold. They expressed nothing, held nothing. If eyes were indeed windows to the soul, this man appeared to have none.

It took her a full minute to tear her gaze from his face and glance at the rest of him. She noted the way his buff breeches seemed poured over his muscular legs. His broad frame was perfectly fitted into a dark blue super fine coat with a silver waistcoat. He cut a dashing figure—a lordly figure—if one didn’t look at his face. That thought only reassured her that a spurned customer hadn’t sent a thug to murder her. They’d sent a fellow lord instead.

Taking a deep breath, Danni dug inside for courage. “How may I help you, sir?”

His lips moved in a cold imitation of a smile. Danni fought back a shiver of fear as she pressed back into the counter. She would not cower.

But she would stay outside his reach.

He looked casually about the room, skimming the shelves overrun with multitudes of novels and heavy tomes. His removed a pliant leather glove from one hand, then the other, and then pierced her with his gaze as she imagined a collector would pierce a bug. “In the end, Danni, I hope to be the one who will be helping you.”

Shocked he knew her name, she gasped. “Excuse me, sir?”

Danni was impressed when her voice didn’t quake. It was a small accomplishment in the face of such an overwhelming presence.

“You, my darling Miss Green, are going to help me with some rather unpleasant business. In return, I will agree not to expose your little secret.”

Oh God, no!
Confusion and fear gripped her so tightly she could barely draw breath. He could not possibly know about her business. Perhaps he knew only that she used an alias. She’d thought by using the name Green, she would shield her father from scandal, but it wouldn’t take a Bow Street Runner long to discover whose name was on the deed to the building. “What sort of secret could I possibly have, sir? I am a lowly shopkeeper.”