Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (50 page)

After a moment Lucien sighed. "You're determined to have your piece of the glory, aren't you? Go on then."

Beth recognized the extent of his sacrifice and gave him a hug. Then she followed Blanche up to the back door while Lucien and Miles slipped along behind them.

Lucien whispered, "Scream for help if you need it. Either of you." Then he and Miles moved off to the side to conceal themselves.

Blanche and Beth could see through a lighted sunken window into the kitchen. Two men were sitting at a table playing with greasy cards and drinking what looked to be a good wine.

"While the cat's away...." Blanche muttered. "At least there's no sign of a gun. Ready?"

The men were rough and dirty and reminded Beth of the two men who had accompanied Deveril, but she nodded firmly. "Ready."

Blanche went down the steps and knocked. They heard a bolt drawn back then the door was opened cautiously by a bearded man with a pistol in his hand. He hadn't been one of the card players. There were three.

"Yeah?" he grunted.

"Well," said Blanche in a heavy accent, "is that any welcome for a lady? I've a mind to share that bottle of wine, luv."

The man relaxed and opened the door a little more but also looked carefully out behind them. "Where did you fall from, me angel?"

"Heaven, of course," said Blanche. "Your master, he ordered us up for your supper, 'andsome."

The man's eyes sharpened. "His lordship? You've seen him?"

"Yesterday, luv. Look," Blanche added with a pout, "are you goin' to let us in? There's other fish in the sea tonight, you know. In fact, I think we should all go out and join the fun."

"Can't, me honey," the man said, adding with a grin, "but you'll certainly make a dull time brighter." He opened the door wide. "Come on in. Hey, lads, come see what his lordship's sent for us!"

The two men threw down their cards. "Bleeding sight for sore eyes," said one who was largely without teeth. His eyes seemed to strip the clothes off both of them.

"Too soddin' right," said the other, flashing a great many very yellow teeth.

Beth found herself frozen.

Blanche sauntered over to the table, and the two card players stared at her, mesmerized. "Wot a lucky girl I am, then," she purred, "to have such fine fellows smilin' at me."

Beth gathered her wits and quickly entered the kitchen and shut the door. The third man turned and leered at her, putting down his gun. As she'd hoped, he didn't remember to shoot the bolt again. Lucien could get in if things turned bad.

She smiled at the bearded man, though she feared it came out a bit sickly. "Hello, sweetheart."

He reached out to grab her, but she sidestepped him. "Don't I get some wine, 'andsome?"

He grabbed her anyway. "Pay a kiss for it," he said.

His mouth was slack and wet and sour. Beth was sure he wasn't as foul as Lord Deveril, but she could quite see how Clarissa had thrown up her breakfast. She commanded her rebellious stomach to be still and writhed about as if she were enjoying it. She hoped Lucien couldn't see this, or he'd be fit to kill.

When the man's mouth freed hers, he chuckled. "You're a proper spicy dish, aren't yer, me little molisher? Come on, Pepper, and have your wine. There's plenty more where that came from." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to the table where Blanche was skillfully playing one man off against the other with much shrieking and banging about.

Was Nicholas inside? Just to do her bit, Beth staggered and knocked over a stool.

Her escort pulled her straight. "You're well on the go already, ain't yer?" He thrust the bottle at her. "Have some more."

They needed to play for time. "Well," said Beth with false refinement, "hi ham more haccustomed to drink from hay glass, sir."

Blanche shrieked with laughter. "Right spark, she is. We call her 'the duchess!'"

All the men roared, and the black bearded one casually tweaked one of Beth's nipples. Fortunately he took Beth's outraged squeal as part of her act. "Right away, Yer Grace. The best crystal, do yer?" To Beth's horror he went out of the room to get it. Was he going upstairs? Nicholas was up there somewhere. She ran after him.

The man turned, then grinned knowingly. "So that's yer game, Duchess. Yer a smart one and no mistake. Fancy a nice comfy bedroom, do yer? Come on, then."

Beth glanced around frantically. They were at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the ground floor, and the wall was lined with shelves holding bowls and pots. The noise from the kitchen was deadened by the closed door. She could hear nothing from above. Nicholas must surely be in, which was the noisy part. If necessary she'd break some pottery.

"I think I'd better go back to me sister." she said coyly. "She'll get awful jealous."

"Let her, Pepper. Perhaps I'll give her a turn upstairs, too. Come on." He grabbed her wrist in a beefy paw.

"Let go!" Beth squealed. She suddenly remembered that they weren't supposed to go upstairs and dug in her heels.

"Wot the hell's up wiv you?" the man growled. "Don't you play off your airs and graces wiv Tom Cross, Duchess." He yanked her to him, turned her over his knee, and landed two stinging blows on her behind, which her flimsy skirts did little to cushion. Beth saw red.

"You disgusting man!" she shrieked as soon as she was upright. She grabbed at the shelves. The first thing that came to hand was a small iron skillet. She crowned him with it with all her might. His eyes crossed, and he collapsed down at the base of the stairs.

"Bravo!" declared Nicholas from the top of the stairs. "I was beginning to think you'd need rescuing."

"I rescued myself," said Beth, aware of a flicker of pride. She rubbed her behind and rearranged her bodice. "Are you finished?"

"Yes. I'll give Lucien the signal and you can get out of here."

"What about him?" asked Beth, pointing to her victim. "Won't he spoil the plan?"

"No, he won't be surprised to find you crowned him. But he won't keep long either. Get on your way." He disappeared back to the upper reaches.

Beth put on a brazen face and sauntered back into the kitchen. Blanche was on the toothy man's knee, feeding him wine from the bottle. The other man was hovering impatiently. He turned quickly. "Where's Tom?" He wasn't so much suspicious as wary of poaching on the other man's property.

"Gone to get me a glass, of course," said Beth saucily. The man came at her. Beth backed up. She really couldn't take another mauling kiss. She looked around for a weapon—

Lucien and Miles burst in. "Wot the hell you doing, Molly?" Lucien roared, grabbing Beth.

Blanche leapt off the toothy man's knee with an impressive squeal of fear. "Help!" she cried. She tried to hide behind the toothless one, but he didn't look keen to fight.

"Who're these then?" he asked.

"We're the ones wot say where they go and who they go with, that's who," snarled Lucien. He dragged Beth towards the door. "I'll give you wot for when I get you home!"

Beth started to wail. Miles grabbed Blanche without hindrance from either of her would-be swains. As they got to the door, Beth saw the pistol Tom had put down and grabbed it. Then they were out.

As they ran through the back yard towards the mews, there was a roared obscenity. "No little drap's going to do fer me!"

"Tom!" Beth gasped and thrust the pistol into Lucien's hands.

"What have you been up to?" he drawled as he quickly checked it. A glance back showed the three guards in the doorway.

"Come on!" whispered Nicholas.

They all ran into the mews, heading for the exit into Upper Brook Street where Tom Holloway was waiting with a carriage in case they needed a quick escape. A carriage entered the mews from that direction.

"Hell," muttered Nicholas.

They looked back. Deveril's bullies were coming into the mews and at least one had a pistol. With a curse, Nicholas flattened himself against the wall out of sight. Lucien waved the pistol, and the men hesitated.

It seemed an age they were frozen there. Would the men raise an alarm? Or were they too disreputable to call attention to themselves? Would the coachman try to stop them if they ran past him?

"Scylla and Charybdis," murmured Lucien lightly. "Can we take them?"

"Psst!"

They all looked in astonishment at the nearest carriage house. A small figure appeared and beckoned urgently.

"Robin!" Beth gasped.

"Come on!" the boy whispered and beckoned again.

After a moment they ran towards him, Nicholas carefully moving behind them.

"Stop them!" bellowed Tom. "Thievery!"

"Oy there!" yelled the coachman. "Stop!"

They were in the coachhouse, "Follow me," said Robin and darted through the vehicles towards the back.

Without question, they obeyed. He led them out an unglazed window and into a narrow gap between the coach house and the wall of a nearby house. It was clogged with weeds, but they trampled along it after the boy. He stopped and disappeared through the wooden wall into another building of the mews. When Beth got there she found two planks were missing, allowing enough space for a person to squeeze by.

They were in a stable with three horses standing in stalls. The beasts shifted lazily. In the distance they could here the bangs and voices of their pursuers.

Robin silently pointed to a ladder. They crept over and climbed up to find themselves in unused sleeping quarters, dusty and almost pitch dark. Robin moved the ladder over against a wall then reached up. Getting his meaning, Lucien leaned down, with Nicholas and Miles anchoring his legs, and hoisted the boy up.

They shut the hatch and collapsed in the dark to get their breath back. Beth could hear someone, probably Nicholas, trying not to laugh. They could hear faint voices but none nearby.

There were two windows. They were very dirty but they let in some light and gradually Beth's eyes adjusted so that she could see a little. She wriggled over into Lucien's arms.

"Exciting enough for you?" he murmured.

She laughed softly. "Truth to tell, I'm enjoying myself."

"So I gather. What did you do to poor Tom?"

"Knocked him out with a skillet. He was taking liberties."

He stifled his laughter against her shoulder.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of this rescue?" asked Nicholas of Robin.

"Oh, allow me to introduce you," said Lucien. "Nicholas Delaney, Robin Babson. What on earth are you doing here, Robin?"

"Looking after you," said Robin cockily. "Seemed too good of a night to be tucked up asleep, what with the battle and all, so I sneaked out to see some fun. When I saw you doing the same, I reckoned there was something up. You could have knocked me down wiv a feather when I saw you all togged up like that." He looked at Beth and rolled his eyes. She giggled.

"I were behind you all the way here, and you never knew a thing. I knew you'd end up needing help. I heard a bit of your plan, and while you were striking the dub I sneaked around this place."

"Well done indeed," said Nicholas. "Wellington couldn't have done better. We shall see you rewarded. If, that is, you can be relied on to stand mum." There was an undeniable note of steel in his voice.

"You can depend on me, milord!"

"Plain Mr. Delaney. What do you want?"

"What?"

"What reward do you want?"

Robin looked blank. Beth quickly said, "I think he should be allowed to choose what profession he wants to train for."

"He's learning stable work," said Lucien with the clear meaning that there was no other job on earth worth having.

Beth could see that Robin was torn between a desire to be away from horses and a fear of being away from his idol. "Perhaps you'd prefer an inside job, Robin," she prompted gently.

"Perhaps," he muttered.

"I have a fancy to have a page. Of course, you'd have to spend a lot of time with me and wear a fancy livery."

He glanced up, wary but bright-eyed. "Might not mind."

"And I'm afraid I would have to insist that you learn to read and write and all kinds of other things if you are truly to be of use to me."

"Do you think I could?" he asked uncertainly.

"I'm sure you could. After all, you can't stay a page forever. You may want to become a footman, or even a butler one day."

"Like old Morrisby?" he asked, as wide-eyed as if he'd been offered the crown of England.

"Exactly. So if you cared for such a change...."

"Yes, please," he said with careful good manners.

Lucien ruffled his hair. "Ambitious little imp, aren't you? Now, if you want this glorious future, you'd better get us all safe away from here or we'll be too busy picking hemp to assist you."

"Gam!" scoffed the boy, grinning at them. "Not but what you'd have been in a bumblebroth without me. Wait here."

He slithered over to the hatch and raised it a crack. Then he pushed it up carefully and swung himself down. Beth gasped at the drop, but they heard him scamper away.