Scandal's Mistress (A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players) Page 5

  “Mistress Enderby? Was she upstairs too?”

  He chuckled. “She came down before you looking somewhat pleased. She certainly hadn’t gone upstairs with the same demeanor. More like she was about to lose her supper. Don’t worry,” he added with that familiar twinkle, “I don’t think anyone else saw you. In fact, I doubt anyone even noticed you were gone except me.”

  Hardly a flattering thing to say to a woman. However, since her anonymity was precisely why Lord Warhurst had asked for her help, she shouldn’t be so surprised by the fact. Still, it hurt.

  “You really are entirely too observant, Will,” she said. “Especially for an actor. In my experience they’re usually more self-absorbed.”

  “And seamstresses don’t usually go wandering about mansions. I don’t think either of us can be defined by our current professions, do you?”

  Alice liked the player. She really did. She just wished he wasn’t so clever. He would be able to detect a lie as easily as a hound scented game. So she’d best tell him the truth. Or some of it. “I was just seeing what a big house looks like from the inside.” That was partly true. She’d never been inside a house with so many rooms before and certainly not one with the amount of servants Hawkesbury retained. Now that the performance was over and light refreshments were being served to the guests and players alike, the house was crawling with them.

  “Find anything?” Shakespeare asked, adjusting his toga over his shoulder.

  “Just a lot of dusty rooms. He doesn’t even use half of them!”

  He laughed. Henry Wells came up to them and handed Alice a cup. “Wine for the happy wanderer,” he said with a wink.

  Alice blushed and accepted the cup. It seemed people took more notice of her than she thought.

  She spent the next hour packing the costumes and props into the traveling chests and helping the troupe carry them back to the cart. She searched the shadows for Lord Warhurst but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’d already left, but she didn’t think so. He was out there somewhere, watching her. She could feel his enigmatic presence in the darkness.

  She shivered, but not from the cold, and smiled into the murky depths of the stable building. “Until tomorrow,” she murmured.

  CHAPTER 4

  Even though the Golden Lion was filled with diners whose mouths were occupied by slices of meat or pie, it was still a noisy place. It also stank. The smells of ale and sweat weren’t quite erased by the aroma of roasting pork coming from the kitchen. Alice had been to other inns before of course, but the Golden Lion seemed rougher. The mostly male diners appeared to be merchants and apprentices, but not of the respectable sort. Clothing was simple and grubby, faces pinched and grim. A few heads swung Alice’s way when she entered, appraised her openly, then raised their tankards in salute.

  “Lookin’ for someone in partic’lar, wench?” one of them asked. He patted the empty stool beside him and grinned. A chunk of meat hung from between his crooked teeth. “I can be that someone.”

  “I’m sure you could,” she said oh-so-sweetly. “But my lover is the jealous sort.”

  The man curled his top lip in a snarl. “Lucky for you, you ain’t worth my trouble,” he said, turning back to his food.

  A hand curled around her arm. Without speaking a word, Lord Warhurst pulled her through the crowd to a booth in the far corner of the room. He gently pushed her onto a bench seat and slid into the one opposite.

  “You’re right,” he said, signaling to the serving woman.

  “About what?” Alice said.

  “I am a jealous man.”

  “But—” We’re not lovers. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The look he gave her was guarded, but the power emanating from him punched her square in the gut. It hurt to breathe. He didn’t take his eyes off her despite the serving woman’s approach, and for an uncomfortable moment Alice thought he would tell her he wouldn’t become her lover for the queen’s entire fortune.

  “I’ll have whatever stew you’ve got today,” he said to the serving wench, “and ale. Mistress Croft?”

  “I’m not eating,” she said, forcing herself to look away and breathe normally.

  “She’ll have the same,” he said, and the servant nodded and left. “You need to eat,” he said to Alice. “You’re too thin.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I wasn’t going to eat because I’m expected back at my father’s table. As to being too thin, you didn’t think so yesterday. Not certain parts of me at least.”

  To his credit he didn’t dip his gaze to those parts, safely covered by her gown and cloak. He kept his narrowed green eyes on hers until she was squirming in her seat.

  “My apologies,” he said stiffly. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were lacking good food. I’m sure your father provides for you adequately.”

  What an odd thing to say. “Of course he does. And for my mother and my two sisters. We’re neither destitute nor street rats, my lord, no matter what you think.”

  “I don’t think—” He cut off his own words by pressing his lips together. “I apologize. Again. Now can we get to the business at hand?”

  Gladly. The sooner she was out of his presence the better. He was playing havoc with her judgment. She didn’t know what to make of him. He was insufferable one moment and disconcerting the next. And utterly compelling. Those eyes made her feel unbalanced when he regarded her so intensely.

  “Patience Enderby is with child,” she said, getting to the point straightaway.

  A heartbeat passed before he said, “I know.”

  She blinked at him. “You knew. How?”

  “Blake learned that much from Hawkesbury himself. The Enderby girl’s child isn’t his, apparently.”

  She placed her palms flat on the table and leaned toward him, not near enough to be sucked in by those emerald orbs but close enough to make her irritation obvious. “You knew and you didn’t tell me!”

  His steady gaze faltered. “I did not.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t think it fair to the girl to spread gossip unnecessarily.”

  “You assumed I would break a confidence?” she said. He still did not meet her gaze. “You really think that little of me? Even though I already knew about your sister’s similar predicament?”

  “You guessed about Lilly, I didn’t tell you.”

  She blew out a measured breath. “I will not tell anyone, my lord, you have my word.”

  For a moment she thought he’d say he couldn’t take the word of someone like her, but then he nodded. “Thank you.”

  “If I’d known Patience was with child before I began I could have asked her directly for the father’s name instead of waiting for her to tell me.”

  “You spoke to Patience Enderby?” It was his turn to lean forward, closing the gap between them considerably. Alice should move away, back to where it was safer. She didn’t. “I admit I’m impressed by your endeavors,” he said. “Perhaps you should become an interrogator for the Privy Council.”

  “I befriended her. It wasn’t difficult. I think she’s in need of a friend at the moment.”

  “What else did you learn?”

  “That the father of her unborn babe is working at Enderby’s Crouch End farm. I told her I would give him a message.”

  He said nothing and seemed to be waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he said, “Is that it? Did you question the other players? The servants?”

  “The players knew nothing of interest to our investigation and the servants were all too busy to stop for a little chat. I’m sure they’d be too loyal to tell me anything anyway. Worse, they’d probably warn Lord Hawkesbury. It wouldn’t take long for him to connect me to you, or to your family at least.”

  Leo had to admit she was right. Again. And perhaps he should have told her about Patience’s state. He had intended to give Alice only the minimum she needed in order to spy for him. He couldn’t afford the information to become common mark
et gossip, and Patience’s situation was not Alice’s affair anyway. Yet despite his reticence, she’d still learned of the Enderby girl’s predicament on her own. Confirmation that Alice Croft was an astute woman and a valuable asset. One he planned on using more.

  “So the name and place of work for this lover is the only solid thing we’ve learned,” he said.

  “Yes.” She sounded defensive.

  “Then we’d best go speak to him.”

  “We?”

  He smiled. “Have you got something better to do this afternoon?”

  “There’s no performance for a few days. We’re moving to the Rose soon so there’s much packing to be done.” A lock of hair fell over her eyes and he had the ridiculous urge to lean over and sweep it aside. Her eyes were far too interesting to be hidden.

  Fortunately their food arrived and she flicked the lock away. He pulled out some coins to pay the serving woman for both meals.

  “No,” Alice said, digging into the folds of her skirts and producing a leather pouch. “I’ll pay for mine.”

  “Allow me.”

  “No.” She handed a ha’penny to the serving girl. “Our arrangement is clear and simple and doesn’t cover meals. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “As you wish,” he said, paying for his stew. “But I want to assure you I can afford it.”

  She laughed, a surprisingly husky sound that lit up her face and made her shoulders shake. He couldn’t help smiling along with her. He liked her laugh.

  “I am aware of that,” she said, still chuckling as she picked up her spoon.

  His smile froze. So she thought he was wealthy. It was perhaps a logical conclusion from her point of view. He was a baron with an estate and his family had a lot of money—money that belonged to them, not him. His stepfather’s fortune had gone to his heir, Blake, who’d set up a generous annuity for their mother and a sizeable dowry for Lilly. He’d offered the same arrangement to Leo on more than one occasion, but Leo always rejected it. He didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt, especially Blake’s. His own father—a man he barely remembered—had taught him that harsh lesson. The late baron had borrowed funds from several noblemen. When he failed to invest it in the search for coal on his land as promised, they’d torn him apart. He became more than an outcast—he was a hunted man. That hunt had caused his heart to give out, leaving all that debt and guilt in his infant son’s lap.

  Leo felt the weight of that burden in everything he did.

  He became an even poorer man after paying off all the debts once he came into his majority, but he was damned if he was going to let a seamstress find out exactly how poor.

  They ate their meals in silence. Someone struck up a tune on the virginals and the noise level in the inn rose as everyone spoke louder to hear each other over the music. Leo was glad to get out of there when they finished eating. In hindsight the Golden Lion had been a poor choice to meet a woman, with its mostly male patrons, and miserable ones at that. But when he’d suggested it, he’d not been able to think of any other places away from people they might know. Alice didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she treated the occasional leers in her direction with disinterest. Either she didn’t notice them or she believed the men were beneath her.

  They were.

  The thought trickled through his mind, unbidden and unwanted, and he shoved it away. What she believed and what was fact were two entirely different things.

  He watched her walking in front of him out of the inn and into the courtyard. Her woolen skirt swayed with the gentle roll of her hips. A breeze blew her pale hair against the nape of her neck and she absently flicked it away with slender fingers. She held her back straight and her shoulders square and took long strides. The overall effect was one of confidence and… grace. Yes, that was it. Grace.

  She stopped to speak to one of the inn’s lads leaning on a broom near the stable doors. Leo arrived in time see her press a coin into the boy’s palm and to hear her give directions.

  “To my house,” she said for Leo’s benefit as the boy ran off. “The lad has instructions to say he’s come from the White Swan, not here. I told him to tell my father that I’ve decided to dine with the troupe and plan on remaining there all day. He’ll assume I’m helping them pack.”

  “And the players? Won’t your manager wonder where you are?”

  “Style? Probably not. They’re moving everything to the Rose today. I’ve packed the props and costumes so it’s just a matter of transporting the trunks across the river. He’ll probably think I decided to stay and help my mother at home. Father can be a bear when he’s unwell.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to get into trouble.” He paused. “Did anyone notice your disappearance at Hawkesbury Hall last night?”

  “Not really,” she said, turning toward the stables. “Do they hire out horses here?”

  “Yes.” He signaled to a nearby ostler and ordered him to saddle two horses. “How well do you ride, Mistress Croft?”

  “Poorly,” she said with a shrug. “But I’ll manage.”

  “Perhaps you should stay behind after all,” he said. “I don’t want to be caught traveling in the dark. The roads in and out of London aren’t safe.”

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and he was reminded of their first meeting. Although she had less flesh on display today, the effect was still distracting. “I’ve already sent the lad,” she said. “It’s too late to change your mind now.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I will not be left behind.” She all but stamped her foot.

  He sighed. He knew a determined woman when he saw one. Arguing with her would be a waste of breath. Besides, some company would break up the monotony of the journey. Her company. “A gentle hack for my companion,” he instructed the ostler. “One that follows instructions would make a nice change.”

  They rode out of the city through the great archway of Aldersgate and soon left the noise and bustle of London proper behind them. Less traffic didn’t help Alice to relax. She held onto her plodding mare’s reins with a white-knuckled grip and kept her gaze pinned to the road ahead. Every time a cart drew too close, she whispered soothing words into her horse’s ear. She’d heard it helped to keep them calm.

  “I don’t think the horse is the one who needs reassuring,” Lord Warhurst said from the saddle. His gelding walked beside her and slightly ahead, sometimes breaking into a restless trot before Warhurst slowed it down again.

  He sounded amused but she didn’t want to take her eyes off the road long enough to see if he was laughing at her. “I can manage,” she said, easing up on the reins a little to prove her point.

  “Then you won’t mind if we pick up the pace. I’d like to reach Crouch End before my hair turns white.”

  He was a horrible, horrible man. “Of course I don’t mind. But it’s too late for your hair. It’s already speckled with gray.”

  “If you think insulting me is going to make me ease the pace then you’re wrong.”

  “I never assumed you’d do such a thing.”

  He clicked his tongue and his gelding kicked into a trot ahead of her. He cut a magnificent figure on the horse. Powerful, composed, and at one with the animal. Drawing in a deep breath, Alice flicked the reins and her mare followed. She held on tighter, wishing she could look as comfortable as he did. It was as if riding was as natural to him as walking. She, on the other hand, must look as awkward as a baby taking its first steps.

  “Try to move to the rhythm of the mare’s gait,” he said, glancing across at her. “That’s it. Feel her body through your own. The best riders move in unison with their animal.”

  “I don’t want to be the best. I just want to survive this journey in one piece.” But she tried to do as he said and think of herself and the mare as a single entity. It worked, in a sense. She didn’t feel as awkward, although her rear was getting a pounding against the saddle.

  “Want to go faster?” he said, an edge of excitement in his voice.


  No! “Yes. Why not.”

  “Are you sure?” His horse danced around her, as if goading her mare.

  “Of course.” After all, he was too polite to go really fast. Even if he did, her docile mare probably couldn’t keep up. She certainly wasn’t falling for the gelding’s teasing antics, keeping to her own steady pace. Clever animal.

  “We’ll make a horsewoman of you yet.”

  He took off and her mare followed instinctively. Traitor. Alice tensed and she gripped the reins so tightly her fingers soon throbbed. When she didn’t immediately fall off, she forced herself to relax. As long as she held on, she’d be all right.

  She chanced a glance away from the road to Lord Warhurst up ahead. He and his horse moved with graceful symmetry. It was beautiful in a way, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them.

  “Hawkesbury Hall was magnificent,” she said, picking a safe topic and forcing herself to look elsewhere. “What is your Northumberland estate like?”

  “Smaller,” he said curtly.

  “Is it in the modern style?”

  “No.”

  “So it’s old then?”

  “Somewhat.”

  Good lord, it was harder getting answers from him than from Freddie in one of his drunken slumbers. “Sounds mysterious. Tell me about it.”

  “Why?”

  Why was he so reluctant to discuss his home with her? “Well, because it must be interesting running your own estate all the way up there in Northumberland. I’ve never been further than Surrey.”

  He said nothing.

  “Do you have deer in your woods?”

  “What makes you think I have woods?”

  “Don’t all estates have woods?”

  Again he made no response.

  She tried a different line. “What do your tenants farm? Sheep? Corn? Or do you have coal? I believe Northumberland is known for its coal mines, is it not?”

  “How do you know that?”

  She snorted softly. “I’m not completely ignorant, my lord. I may be only a seamstress but I have ears and I listen to conversations. Occasionally I even join in,” she said, not caring to hide her sarcasm. “It might surprise you that I have an opinion on one or two subjects.”