The Robber Bride (5 page)

Six

Victoria awoke the next morning, after a night of tossing and turning, to a light knock on her door. She groaned, reluctant to see or speak with anyone this morning. There was one person in particular she hoped to avoid for all eternity.

Pushing Fin from her mind for the hundredth time since last night, she called out a feeble, “Come in!” and then nestled into her pillows again.

“
Mornin
’, miss. ‘tis an urgent letter for you.” Lily held out the note that bore Sarah’s handwriting.

“Thank you, Lily,” she said, sitting up to grab the letter. “Could you fetch my toast and tea, please?” Lily started to leave, but Victoria stopped her. “No, I’ve changed my mind. Bring me coffee instead.” She was going to need more than weak tea to get her through this day, she was certain.

She opened the letter, nervous for what she might find. It was never good news when Sarah sent an urgent letter—or any letter, for that matter.

Molly is sick. Need help.

Damn and blast, but this was not good. Molly was the other nurse. No doubt she would have to take up residence at the hospital to avoid spreading whatever she had to her children and husband. So there would be an extra patient while being short one pair of hands.

Which meant Victoria was going to have to come up with a lot more excuses over the coming days. She just hoped it wouldn’t turn into weeks.

She ate her breakfast while Lily prepared her for the day. The coffee was a welcome change to her morning routine. Just the thing she needed to shake off her sleepless night.

Her mother sat at the breakfast table with Tom when Victoria arrived downstairs. “Good morning, Mother,” she greeted. “Tom. I’m off to visit Lady
Hartswell
.”

“You were
there
not two days ago, Victoria.” Her mother’s sharp tone grated on Victoria this early in the morning.

“What can I say?” Victoria replied flippantly. “The woman has requested my company, and I would hate to disappoint.”

“Your brother will go with you.”

How very infuriating. She didn’t need an escort wherever she went. It wasn’t as if she were seventeen and fresh on the market. At twenty-four no one even looked twice at her anymore—they barely even looked once—so why the devil would she need a constant chaperone?

Tom turned to
her,
the same desperation in his eyes that she knew was in her own. He didn’t care to be tethered to her this morning, either.

“Mother, that’s ridiculous. Lady
Hartswell
is only a few blocks away.”

“Yes, and I have an appointment, Mother. I couldn’t possibly accompany Vickie this morning.”

“Your sister’s name is
Victoria.
”

Victoria rolled her eyes. Mother never complained when Finny called her Vickie.

 
Oh, dear.
Finny. The sick feeling in her stomach returned at the thought of him. Why in the world was she so distraught over the events of last night? He didn’t know it was her that robbed them, and he certainly had enough money that he could part with a bit of coin.

Furthermore, there was no doubt in Victoria’s mind that if he knew the money was being used for a good cause, he’d be happy about it. Wouldn’t he?

Then why wouldn’t that damned sick feeling go away?

She shook her head free of the thoughts. She didn’t want to think about that anymore. There were much more important issues at hand, and the most important one right now was convincing her mother she didn’t need an escort to Lady
Hartswell’s
this morning.

“Mother, really, I’ll be fine. I’ve never needed an escort to Lady
Hartswell’s
before, there’s no reason to start now just because Tom is home. Besides, he has a life of his own and, I’m sure, much to do now that he’s back. He has been gone for two years, after all.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, rising from his seat. “And with that said, I shall take my leave.” He bowed to Mother and then to Victoria before leaving the room.

“I shall be home shortly,” Victoria said, backing out of the room on Tom’s heels. “Goodbye, Mother.”

She didn’t wait for a response, and as soon as she was out of the room, she hastened to gather her things: Pelisse, bonnet, parasol, gloves,
reticule
. Good heavens, she didn’t have time for all this today. She’d already been delayed too long and she still had to walk almost to Lady
Hartswell’s
, where Gil would be waiting for her.

One of these days she would actually have to visit Lady
Hartswell
, lest the woman ever go out in society again and find herself engaged in conversation with Lady Grantham. However, today was not the day for that. The hospital needed her.

And they needed her more than she ever could have imagined. Poor Sarah looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week, but still she scurried in and out of the rooms as if someone had lit her bum on fire.

“Molly’s fever spiked early this morning. I’ve had to quarantine her in that room.” She pointed toward the room they typically reserved for the patients who had passed on and were waiting for their families to claim them . . . or the undertaker if there was no family.

“I also admitted a young girl last night. She’s been in labor since yesterday afternoon, but things aren’t progressing well.”

Oh, goodness. “Sarah, we ought to call in a doctor for her.”

“We haven’t the money, miss. I’ve spent all we had on medicine and supplies.”

“I have a bit more. It ought to be enough, but Sarah, you know we can’t deliver a baby without Molly.”

Sarah looked as if she were going to cry, so Victoria grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. “I know you’re tired, Sarah, but I’m here now. I’m not leaving until everything is under control and you’ve had the opportunity to take a little rest.” She turned Sarah in the direction of the room where Molly waited. “Now, you go look after Molly. We must bring her fever down and get her back in good health as quickly as possibly. I’ll tend to everyone else and check in on our soon-to-be mama.”

With that, she gave Sarah a little shove and then set to work tending to the other patients. Most were in stable condition with healing wounds or chronic coughs—they simply needed a bit of tending to. It was the laboring mother who needed the most help, and Victoria worried they wouldn’t be able to help her in the end.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asked of the girl, for really she could not have been more than sixteen years old.

“Anna,” she said, her voice weak.

“How close are your pains, Anna?”

There was a minute of silence while the girl grunted and clung to her stomach in obvious discomfort. When it subsided, she said, “I don’t know for sure, ma’am. Maybe a minute or two.”

A minute or two.
There wasn’t much time. They needed a doctor.

“I’ll be back, Anna. I’m going to find you a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Anna’s eyes grew round and almost wild with fear. “No, ma’am. A midwife, please.”

Victoria stared at the girl, wondering how she could possibly find the strength to be choosy in this situation. “But a doctor—a
real
doctor—will be able to help you better. Besides, I haven’t any idea where to find a midwife.”

“Mrs. Potts.” The girl winced through another pain. They were getting closer together. “Great Guildford Street at the corner of
Southwark
.”

Victoria didn’t bother to ask how Anna knew of this woman or why she just didn’t go to her in the first place. Time was too precious to care. “I’ll find her, Anna. Just hold on, all right?”

Anna nodded as another pain began. “I’ll try, ma’am.”

***

Fin made his way through
Southwark
, headed toward The Anchor where he had a meeting that morning. Lord Bishop wished to commission a painting for his wife for her upcoming birthday, and he wanted to discuss the details in a place his wife would never be able to find him.

He turned the corner, headed for the south bank, and that was when he saw her. Victoria Barclay, running
like
a mad woman down
Blackfriars
Road. Though tied about her neck, her bonnet bounced against her back as she ran and her hair blew back, a messy victim of the high winds that day. The color in her cheeks was high—he could see they burned bright red, even at this distance from across the crowded street.

Fin had a mind to chase after her and give her a good paddling. What the devil was she doing?
All alone in
Southwark
?
This was no place for a lady to find herself, let alone be running with the devil’s speed through the street, attracting attention to herself. Had the girl finally gone mad?

Fin pulled his fob from his coat pocket. Five minutes until eleven. If he tracked her down and paddled her rebellious little behind, he’d never be on time for his meeting with Bishop. Blast. He had lost her already, anyhow. Damn the crowded streets.

If she made it home alive, he’d deliver the paddling then.

Seven

By the time Victoria reached Great Guildford and
Southwark
, her legs were nearly ready to give out on her. They wobbled like Cook’s aspic, but she couldn’t stop now. She needed to find Mrs. Potts and hope that the woman would be willing to help them.

She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up and down the row of houses there, wondering which one might belong to Mrs. Potts. There weren’t any signs—physical or metaphysical—that pointed to any one door, so Victoria did what she had to do. She began knocking.

At the first door appeared a man whose assessment of Victoria made her feel as if she needed a bath.
Certainly not who she was looking for.
Door number two yielded no answer, and Victoria began to feel the pressure of the time. How many minutes had passed since she left the hospital? Twenty? Thirty? Too many, she was certain.

She scurried from the second door to the third and waited. No answer. She stepped off the step and was heading for the next house when she heard the door creak behind her. When she turned back, an old woman stared at her through the crack. Something told her this was the woman she sought.

“Mrs. Potts?”

“Who sent you?” she asked as Victoria moved closer.

“I need your help, madam. I’m told you’re a midwife.”

A wry smile came to the woman’s lips and she huffed a humorless laugh. “Something
like
that.”

“Please. We’ve a young girl in our hospital. Her labor pains are too close together and the only nurse who knows anything about childbirth is lying in bed with a fever.”

The woman looked Victoria over and said, “My fee
ain’t
cheap.”

“I didn’t expect it would be.”

Mrs. Potts’s brows rose, and then finally, she nodded her head. “Fetch a hackney. I’m not fit to walk long distances.”

Victoria did as the woman said and minutes later they were headed back for the hospital. Anna’s cries carried out into the street as they approached, and Victoria worried they might be too late. But Mrs. Potts didn’t move any more quickly.

“It’ll be any minute now,” she said calmly as they entered the hospital. “Upstairs, I take it?”

Victoria nodded at the woman and then watched as she slowly ascended the stairs. Sarah ran from the other room, her brow damp with sweat.

“Did you find a doctor?” the nurse asked.

“Something like that,” Victoria said as she stared up the stairs after Mrs. Potts. “All we can do now is
pray
.”

Less than thirty minutes later—thirty interminable minutes later
—Anna’s cries were replaced by those of her baby
. As Victoria spooned a mouthful of ipecac into another patient’s mouth, she took her first breath since she’d arrived at the hospital that day.
Thank heaven for Mrs. Potts.

“Perhaps Mrs. Potts was our good luck charm today,” Sarah said, poking her head into the small room. “Molly’s fever has broken.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Victoria replied as she eased the young man back onto the pillows. “Well, then, it looks as if things are under control here. Will you be all right if I leave? Too much longer and Mother will become suspicious.”

“We’ll be fine, miss.” Sarah smiled warmly at her, though the poor girl looked as if she would fall over at any moment.

“When was the last time you slept, Sarah?”

“I can’t rightly remember, miss. Feels like a fortnight, though it’s probably more like two days.”

Two days. Victoria wanted to cry for the girl. She really did work too hard, and for very little in return. “I’ll be back as soon as I am able, Sarah. Try to get a bit of rest, will you?”

Sarah nodded, bravely attempting to hold back her tears. Victoria needed to act quickly. The hospital needed more money.
A lot more money.
Which meant she would have to attempt yet another robbery tonight.

***

Fin stepped through the front door of the Barclays’ townhouse, determined to find out why the devil Victoria had been running like a banshee through
Southwark
that morning. It was his highest hope that she was there for good reason—and with a proper chaperone—but he had a feeling that was not the case. She’d been running, and she’d been alone. The signs did not point to a proper social visit on Victoria’s part.

“Finny, what are you doing here?” Victoria stood in the doorway of the drawing room, the sun from the fanlight in the foyer casting a halo about her entire person.

It wasn’t intentional when Fin’s breath caught, but somehow it couldn’t be helped. “I—ah—wished to take a drive with you,” he sputtered out.

Victoria’s brows rose in speculation. “Is that so?”

He rolled his eyes. “
Dammit
, Vickie, I’m bored. Won’t you come and entertain me?”

A smile spread her soft, pink lips. “Well, then who will entertain
me
?”

“I promise to do my best.”

Of course, she acquiesced and within a few minutes, they were in his curricle, headed for Hyde Park. The day was quite exquisite. Not a single cloud marred the turquoise sky, and a slight wind kept them from being too warm.

Fin said nothing as they drove along. He thought to wait and see if she offered any information about her morning romp on her own.

She didn’t.

By the time they reached Rotten Row, neither of them had said a word, and the silence was finally too much for Fin. “I thought you were going to entertain me.”

“No, that was your idea. I never actually agreed to it
—
only to the drive.”

Fin wasn’t sure whether to laugh or strangle her. “Will you tell me about your morning?” He glanced sideways to look at her, hoping for any signs of discomfort at the topic.

She shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. I visited Lady
Hartswell
. She’s been feeling ill.”

The little liar
.
“Ah, so you stayed close to home, then?”

“Well, yes, of course.” She gazed out over the Serpentine as they passed, and Fin dared a glance or two, himself. Its beauty never ceased to amaze him. He had many a canvas stashed away at home that featured this particular landscape. “Tom took breakfast at his club, so I didn’t have much choice. It was either
spend
the morning with Mama or with Lady
Hartswell
. The latter seemed the lesser of two evils.”

“How can you say such things about your mother?”

“How can you not?”

He supposed she had a point. Her mother wasn’t the kindest or warmest of people. Though he’d had good luck at charming her, at the end of the day, she was still a cobra. “Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t about to escort you to someplace more interesting.”

“And what about you?” she asked. “What did you do this morning?”

He paused. Should he tell the truth? “I had a meeting,” he said, and then he turned so he could see her face when he added, “In
Southwark
.”

Silence. Her throat moved as she swallowed hard, but then she took a breath and smiled. “I do hope it went well.”

This was getting him nowhere. “It did. I’m to paint a portrait of Lady Bishop. It’s for her birthday in July.”

“What do you do with the money?”

Fin started at her abrupt and rather inappropriate question. “The money?”

“From your paintings,” she clarified. “It’s not as if you
need
the money, so what do you do with it?”

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, Vickie.” He hated to take that particular tone with her. He felt as if he were scolding her.

“I never said it was,” she retorted. “You don’t have to answer, I was just curious whether you pocket the money or if you perhaps use it for good causes.”

“Causes?” What the devil was she talking about?

“Yes,
causes.
You know, poor people? They do exist. You may have even seen some this morning when you were in
Southwark
.”

“Must you always bring sarcasm into every conversation?”

“If you don’t enjoy my conversation, then why do you even bother keeping my company?”

Damn. When had things started to go downhill? He hadn’t meant for them to argue—he never intended for that to happen. But now his mood had turned black, and he had no desire to make nice with the lying little shrew beside him.

“Perhaps we should just turn back,” he suggested.

“Yes, perhaps that would be best.”

The ride back to Marylebone seemed to last hours as the silence stretched between them. For the first time in the history of their relationship, that silence was horribly uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than any silence he had to endure with vapid debutantes. This was much worse. His palms actually sweated with the anxiety of truly being at odds with Victoria. She was one of his best friends, after all. So then why were they finding it so difficult to get along?

Because she’s a liar, that’s why.
Damn, but she was, wasn’t she? Somehow, Fin would have to get to the bottom of this. Short of having her followed, though, he wasn’t sure how he would do it. She was tight-lipped as a clam.

Hm. Perhaps that was what bothered Fin. If they were such good friends, why couldn’t she confide in him? He understood her lying to her parents, and even her brother, but somehow it hurt that she didn’t trust him enough to say what she was doing alone in
Southwark
that morning.

“Well, thank you for the drive, Finny,” she said as he pulled up to her door. She acted almost as if nothing was wrong. “Will we see you tonight at Vauxhall?”

Damn. He was supposed to go with them to see a concert and fireworks at the gardens. “Yes, of course,” he said, not sure he really wanted to go, now. “You will see me tonight.