Scandalous Regency Secrets Collection. Louise AllenЧитать онлайн книгу.
have foreseen that, simply proving that no crime can ever be perfect.”
Dany squeezed his hand, and not gently. “Could you possibly stop talking to yourself and tell me what you mean? Especially that business about indigo eyes.”
He smiled at her in the darkness. “Don’t tell me you weren’t using them to their best effect when we stumbled on to each other.”
“I would never— You’re grinning at me, aren’t you? Never mind. Go on. You have a mutual enemy, you and Oliver. And perhaps there are others, since the viscount asked if you remembered the names. Am I guessing correctly so far?”
“Because you’re brilliant, yes. Again, I’ll begin at the beginning.”
“With Ferdie the marquis. Because he’s the enemy.”
He ran a fingertip down the side of her cheek, and then gave her chin a gentle flick. “Are you telling this story or am I?”
“Sorry. Carry on,” she said. She divested herself of her shawl and then snuggled against his side just as if they’d been romantically involved for years and such an action was only natural.
It certainly felt natural, just as raising his arm so that she could move in closer before he draped said arm around her shoulder felt natural.
Before I beat Ferdie into flinders, I really should thank him...
“Once upon a time,” he began, earning himself a playful elbow jab in the ribs, “there was an exemplary student on the subject of military tactics as first presented by the legendary Sun Tzu in his writings, most commonly called The Art of War. At the request of several of his fellow students, he agreed to an evening of drinks and conversation.”
“You were that student, of course,” Dany interrupted, a hint of pride in her voice.
“Your high opinion of me is truly humbling, and I’d like to say I was, but that’s not true. I was one of those hoping to learn something that might keep me alive if I ended up facing Bonaparte, which most of us were convinced we would. My friend Gabriel Sinclair was our informal instructor. In any event, we met in a local tavern, and then returned to our rooms as a group, except Gabe, who had caught the eye of one of the barmaids—but that isn’t important save for the fact that he wasn’t with us.”
“But Oliver didn’t catch the eye of one of the barmaids. Nor did you. Good.”
“I’m relieved that I have your blessing on that, but we weren’t feeling all that fortunate at the time,” he told her, daring to drop a kiss on her hair.
He could say anything to her. They...they could be two halves of the same person. A person he barely knew, even as he was sure he knew her more than anyone else ever would, and she him.
“Who was with you? The viscount? Rigby?”
“Neither of them, no. I don’t remember where they’d gone off to, but I’m certain it had nothing to do with ancient teachings. All right, I have it now. The others were Oliver, Johnnie Werkel, Thad Wallace, Geoff Quinton, Edward Givens and— No, that has to be wrong.”
He turned on the seat and took Dany’s hands in his own. “There was someone else. David Fallon. He was the youngest of all of us.”
“Yes? But what has to be wrong? I can tell you’re upset.”
Davy’s dead, that’s what’s wrong. He was found hanged in his mother’s attic. Rigby was the only one who could travel to the services, but Davy’s mother showed him the note he’d left behind: I can’t let it happen, this is the only way. Forgive me.
“I’m sorry. Davy suffered a fatal accident, not quite six months ago. He’d made it through the war without so much as nicking himself shaving. You’re right. It still upsets me.”
She put up her hand to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry, too. What about the others?”
Coop lightly rubbed at the skin she’d touched, mentally taking roll. “Johnnie died on the Peninsula. Thad emigrated, to Jamaica I think it was, to take charge of his uncle’s holdings there. We weren’t that close. I believe Geoff is in town, and I know where Ned is. The ton turned its back on him when he was exposed as a card cheat, his creditors immediately called in all his accounts and he now resides in the Fleet for debt.”
He held up his hand. “Yes, and before you say anything, that suddenly sounds suspicious.”
“We really must visit him. I’ve never been to a debtor’s prison. I’ve read they lower baskets from between the window bars, begging for food and farthings.”
“Your family must keep an interesting library. And no, you’re not going to visit the Fleet. Besides, you haven’t heard the rest of the story.”
“Well, that’s true enough. You may continue, I suppose.”
“Thank you.” Coop smiled. “I was heading back to my room, along with the aforementioned others, when we heard a slight whimpering, some low moaning, coming from Ferdie’s quarters. Curious, I knocked, only to be told to take myself off if I knew what was good for me. That’s nearly an exact quote.”
“You didn’t, of course. Know what was good for you, I mean. Did you knock again, or simply kick down the door?”
“A little of both,” he admitted. “Remember, I’d just come from a tavern, so I wasn’t entirely sober, and felt rather opposed to being told what to do, especially by a bas—a person I didn’t care for in the first place. Once inside, we discovered someone sprawled on the floor, and not in a pretty state.”
“A woman? You said pretty. You mean a woman, don’t you? Perhaps a female of negotiable affections?”
“You’re rather enamored of that phrase, I believe. Yes, a prostitute. Ferdie had taken his riding crop to her. So—” he was having some trouble being so frank, but Dany really did make it easier for him “—so I wrestled the crop from him and returned the favor. Someone, probably Geoff, shouted, ‘All or none!’ or something similarly ridiculous. In the end, everyone had taken turns with the crop before dumping a now-unconscious Ferdie in front of the dean’s door, a note pinned to his shirt, confessing to his crime. I’m not proud of any of that, but we were young, we were all three-parts drunk...and it happened.”
“You were young,” Dany repeated, nodding her head. “Was he expelled?”
“The woman died the next day, and suddenly Ferdie was gone. The marquis made a sizable donation to the school’s chapel, and Ferdie was banished to a distant cousin somewhere in the wilds of north Ireland, not to leave unless he wished to be disowned. I seem to remember that the cousin was some sort of fire and brimstone holy man who had eschewed money, wine, women and most probably indoor privies. And yes, before you ask, we all found great pleasure in hearing that via Ferdie’s suddenly unemployed valet. When his father died last winter, Ferdie came into the title. I really don’t know more than that.”
“Yes, you do. Or you think you do. We’re almost there, aren’t we?”
He took both her hands in his, lightly rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin. “I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve spoken to Ned and Geoff. But yes, I think we’ve found our man in Ferdie, although he wasn’t the person who brushed past us in the jewelry shop. As to where we are, you and I, I have no answer for you.”
Dany sighed. “I know. Neither do I. We don’t even know each other, do we?”
He leaned in, to whisper his next words in her ear. “How long do you think it takes until two people can be said to know each other?”
Her sigh was rather shaky, and lit a small fire inside him. “Surely longer than two days, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps—” he paused, pressed a light kiss against her ear “—perhaps it takes a lifetime to really know someone else. Or you can know them in an instant, and spend the rest of your life delighting in the knowing.”