Whisper To Me of Love (9 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Whisper To Me of Love
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Vigorously Pip nodded her dark head.
“Very well, then,” he replied levelly. “I'll leave you for the present, but I'll want a word with you in the morning.” He shot her a hard look. “Be aware that someone will still be watching you and that all doors leading from this house are locked against you.”
Pip shrugged; let him think
that
would stop her! After dark, when all the servants had gone to bed, would be soon enough to effect her escape, she thought smugly, and in the meantime. . . in the meantime, she'd enjoy this new adventure—especially since he'd seen to it that she didn't have any other choice! Flashing him a disarming smile, she quipped saucily, “Werry well, guvnor. Werry well, indeed!”
Royce almost blinked at the blinding change of expression on her face, and nodding his head, he forced himself to walk away from her. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned away. “I think everything is settled for the moment,” he remarked, facing the others. Then, acting as if he found himself in this sort of situation every day, he added, “Chambers, I shall expect you to see to it that our, er, guest does not escape.
Do
check all the doors.”
Ignoring the grin on Zachary's face, Royce bowed slightly in Ivy Chambers's direction and murmured, “Madame, forgive me for creating more problems for you, but I know that for the moment I can leave the care of the young lady in your capable hands.”
Flustered, her pretty face flushed from her exertions, Ivy bobbed a quick curtsy and mumbled, “Oh, sir! I will do my very best.”
Giving her an attractive smile, Royce nodded, and eager to escape from the increasingly troublesome dilemma created by the simple act of preventing himself from being robbed, he attempted to retreat rather rapidly from the kitchen. A thought struck him, and stopping at the doorway, he glanced back. Cocking an eyebrow at the woman in the tub, he asked, “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”
Having momentarily resigned herself to enjoying this interlude among the gentry, Pip shot him a cheeky grin. “Pip! 'at's me name. And yours, guvnor?” she inquired boldly.
With an effort, Royce held back the urge to laugh at her audacity, but unable to resist her, he bowed slightly and murmured, “Royce Manchester, at your service.”
“Coo! And a right polite cove you can be, Royce Manchester,” Pip replied brashly.
His eyes locked intimately with hers. “I can be many things ... if it suits me.”
Pip's breath caught in her throat and with widened eyes she stared at him, unable to move until he smiled enigmatically and left the room. Heart beating fast, she continued to gaze, as if mesmerized, at the doorway through which he had vanished, Zachary close on his heels.
There was a small silence when the two men had left, and then, somewhat uneasily, Ivy Chambers said, “Now then, Pip, you gave the master your word and we're going to trust you to keep it. Wash yourself, and when you are done, I shall have another bucket of water warmed to rinse your hair.”
Having decided that no harm had been meant by their ministrations, Pip nodded and, after Ivy had handed her a rag, began to bathe. Once the other women had discreetly turned away and Chambers had left the room and she was allowed a bit of privacy, Pip discovered that a bath wasn't such a terrible thing, after all. The water felt warm and soothing against her skin, and the soap, while harsh and smelling slightly of lye, did a miraculous job of removing all signs of dirt from her body. Her hair washed and rinsed by Alice, one of the younger housemaids, Pip felt so clean, she was certain she would squeak when she walked.
Clothing proved to be a bit of a problem, but the ever resourceful Ivy finally produced a blue gingham gown that she had worn several years ago. Glancing from Ivy's attractively plump figure to the gown, Pip looked dubious.
Not the least offended, Ivy said easily, “Oh, yes, I was able to wear such a garment ...
many
years ago!”
The gown, as well as the meager undergarments Ivy was able to provide, was something of a novelty to Pip, and at first she was somewhat hesitant in her movements as she wandered around the big kitchen. She was watched with varying degrees of wariness and curiosity by the other women, but from the pleasant expressions on their faces and the one or two friendly smiles that had been sent her way, Pip was confident that they had no hostile intentions toward her.
Ivy's actions a few moments later confirmed Pip's reading of the situation. Putting a plate of bread, cheese, and ham on the table, Ivy said in a motherly tone, “It will be hours before dinner; you might as well eat this now.”
It had been hours since Pip had eaten that skimpy meal with her brothers, and flashing a grateful smile at Ivy, she sat down and delved into the food. Thoughtfully chewing a piece of excellently cured ham, she glanced surreptitiously around the kitchen, already beginning to plan her escape. An escape that, considering the unnerving effect Royce Manchester had upon her, had become imperative.
While Pip was finishing her meal in the kitchen and scheming to escape, Royce was fending off Zachary's teasing comments in the front salon. Fixing his young relative with a stern look that was at variance with the laughter in his eyes, Royce said grandly, “Yes, yes, it does complicate matters, but just think how very worthy her redemption shall make us feel! Why, we may have saved her from a life of harlotry and salacious behavior.”
Zachary, who, like his cousin, was also very astute, looked exceedingly innocent as he murmured, “Now, why did I have the distinct impression that you planned
precisely
that sort of life for her?”
Zachary's estimation of the situation cut a little too close to the bone for Royce, but he couldn't deny he'd found the little pickpocket ...
interesting!
“You should watch that tongue of yours, young man,” Royce said irritably. “It is going to get you into trouble.”
“Yes, and something else of yours is likely to get
you
into trouble!”
Zachary's teasing remark was unanswerable, and beyond smiling ruefully at his cousin, Royce said nothing more on the subject of Pip. Reaching for his York tan gloves where they lay on a nearby table, Royce merely said, “If you are not to dine here, inform Chambers, will you? I am going out now and don't know when I shall return.”
“Della?” Zachary asked.
“Exactly,” Royce replied, and strode from the room, eager to escape from further questions ... and the unwanted, surprisingly erotic images of a certain cheeky little wench that drifted through his mind.
 
 
Royce's visit to Della was quite the pleasurable experience he had hoped it would be, and if a fleeting thought of Pip as his mistress crossed his mind, he exasperatedly pushed it aside. The very idea was ridiculous! Not returning to the house on Hanover Square, after leaving a smilingly satisfied Della, Royce went in search of further amusement at one of the many gambling clubs that he patronized. Unfortunately, the news of the events at Fives Court had spread throughout the ton, and everywhere he went, he found that this morning's occurrence was the main topic of conversation. Displeased with the notoriety the pickpocket's advent into his life had created, he returned home and somewhat bad-temperedly retired for the night.
In spite of the drama of the day, Pip, unlike Royce, had fallen instantly asleep in the small, cramped room to which she had been assigned by Chambers. But then, Pip knew she was going to escape, and instead of fighting against her current situation, she embraced it with enthusiasm, looking upon this sure-to-be-brief time in the house of a wealthy man as a grand adventure, and she determinedly pushed all thoughts of Royce Manchester aside.
It was not too difficult a task, considering the life she had led, and while never being allowed beyond the kitchen and servants' quarters, Pip marveled at the fine and pampered life the servants of the rich lived. Seeing the clean and neat clothing of the others made her uncomfortably conscious of the pile of filthy rags that she had worn upon her arrival. A pile of filthy rags that Ivy had thrown away with an exclamation of disgust. Slightly ashamed of her background for the first time in her life, almost reverently Pip had smoothed out the faint creases in the blue and white gingham gown. The gown had never been an expensive one, nor had it ever been in the height of fashion, but to a young woman who had never owned such a garment before, the faded gown was the loveliest item she had ever worn, and she took a child's uncritical pleasure in it.
Even the meal they ate that night aroused her admiration, food such as she had never dreamed of—tender roast lamb, the meat nearly melting in her mouth, delicately flavored peas, and deliciously creamed potatoes, as well as a variety of side dishes, but it was the sweets, the creams and tarts, that caused her eyes to nearly start from her head. And taste! Oh, Lord, she thought pleasurably as she finished her third strawberry cream, wait until I tell Jacko and Ben!
Royce's servants were kind to her once they realized that she was going to behave, and though conversation among them all was a bit stilted and guarded, Pip lost some of her inbred hostility and contempt for them. She had always assumed that she lived the best possible life—the freedom of the streets, the lack of responsibilities—and not unnaturally, being raised as she had, she had looked down upon those who took honest employment as staid and spiritless fools. But her belief in the superiority of her life-style was being quickly eroded with every hour that she spent in Royce's house. It was as if an entirely new world had opened up for her, and she could not quite take in the enormity of it.
As the hour had grown later, though, and it became apparent that the day's labors were done, Pip could feel herself growing edgy. Soon she would leave this place, and as Ivy escorted her from the kitchen to the cramped room where she would sleep that night, Pip could not help one last backward glance at the kitchen. She told herself it was to memorize her escape route, but a tiny part of her acknowledged that she wanted that big, friendly room and what had happened within it imprinted on her memory.
Pip was given a room all to herself at the back of the house, just down the small hall from where Chambers and Ivy slept, and while it was hardly larger than a closet, the simple fact of never having had a room of her own made her inordinately pleased with it. As did the entirely new experience of actually sleeping in a bed—granted, the old mattress was lumpy and thin and the bed narrow, but since she had only known a blanket upon the floor, the accommodations seemed almost luxurious to her.
Worn out from the happenings of the day, unable to even spare a moment to speculate about the man she had identified as her father or the odd impact Royce Manchester had upon her emotions, Pip fell asleep the moment her head hit the thin little pillow that had been provided. She had not been fearful that she would sleep through the night—from childhood, she had trained herself to awake at any given time, and it was after three o' clock in the morning when she suddenly awoke, almost as if someone had touched her.
For just a few moments, she lay there in the silence of the night, savoring these last precious seconds in her own room and bed. Then, with a faint regret at leaving such comfort, yet eager to escape to the world she knew, she slipped from the bed. She dressed swiftly and silently in the darkness, a feeling of guilt sweeping through her at the knowledge that she would be absconding with Ivy's dress. It struck her as very strange that mere hours ago, she would have thought nothing of stealing Ivy's belongings, but now ...
Uneasy at the state of her mind, she stealthily left her room and crept down the narrow hallway. Her descent to the kitchen was without incident, and she had just carefully advanced halfway across the big room toward the bolted and barred door that led to the outside before she became aware that she was not alone.
Stiffening in alarm, she froze, all of her senses alert as she sought to discover the position of the other person in the room with her. There was a moment of tense silence as she stood there listening intently before she heard the faintest little noise to her left. Carefully she swiveled her head in that direction, her eyes trying to pierce the concealing blackness, and it was in that instant that she became chillingly conscious of the presence of the
second
person in the room. She had only a moment to comprehend this startling fact when suddenly she felt a sharp blow to the head.
The blow was not hard enough to knock her out, though it stunned her, and reacting immediately, even as she stumbled, she rammed her elbow viciously in the stomach of her attacker. The muffled curse that greeted her actions filled her with a fierce satisfaction in that split second before she recognized the voice.
Ignoring her throbbing head, she spun around. “
Jacko!
Is that you?”
“Bloody eyes! Who the hell else would it be?” Jacko growled back at her. “Jesus, Pip, I swear you've put a hole in my belly.”
“Well, next time, don't come creeping up behind me in the dark,” she replied tartly, one hand gingerly rubbing the sore spot on her head. “Besides, what are you complaining about? I'm the one who got hit on the head.”

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