The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
women I can use.’
She shrugged. ‘But you do not know her name. Come tomorrow at nine in the morning. I will guide you to her door.’
With a glare, he rose to his feet. ‘I will take you driving tomorrow. In Hyde Park. It is important that we be seen together. But we will not be going to Southwark, je vous assure.’
‘How prettily you speak French,’ she said with a catlike smile. ‘So perfect. So very English.’
He cursed under his breath. God preserve him from stubborn women. As he saw it, he had two choices. Refuse her request and risk her going off half-cocked without him, or give in.
‘Nine tomorrow morning,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Surely by then Barker could find this woman, now he knew where to look.
* * *
Minette tried to sit still while her maid finished dressing her hair. Anxiety gnawed at her belly. What if Madame Vitesse was lying about her knowledge of Moreau? What if it was a trap? Freddy would be so angry. He would certainly never give her a second chance. No. She had been so very careful. Things had to go according to plan. They must.
‘All done, mademoiselle,’ the maid said, eyeing the effect of her handiwork in the mirror. Curls framing her face. Her hair piled on her crown, ready to receive the straw bonnet whose plumes matched her form-fitting carriage dress of pale blue sarsenet.
Minette rose from the rosewood dressing table and took the bonnet from her maid’s hand, placing it on her head, just so. The maid tied the blue velvet ribbon under her left ear. ‘You look beautiful, mademoiselle. The Duke is sure to be pleased.’
Unlikely, but that was no reason not to look the part.
‘Christine, you must promise not to breathe a word of our intention to visit Southwark today to anyone.’
‘Mais, non, mademoiselle. Your secrets are safe with me. Always.’
Minette believed her. The maid, too, had lost innocent family in France’s grand experiment and had been embarrassingly grateful when offered this position. She would not lie to Minette about anything.
Nicky breezed in looking very matronly in a pale green morning gown that clearly showed her expanding waistline. ‘Freddy’s phaeton is outside the house. He sent his tiger to the door, since he won’t leave the horses. Are you ready?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Ready for battle. She kissed her sister on the cheek and hurried down the stairs. If there was anything to put a man in a temper, she’d learned since coming out, it was keeping his horses fretting at their bits. And an irritated Freddy would only compound the difficulty of her task.
The butler bowed her out of the door with a warm smile. At the kerb stood a shiny black vehicle with wheels picked out in navy and gold, drawn by a pair of matched black horses with white stars on their foreheads. The phaeton had attracted the rapt attention of the street sweeper, who had left his customary post on the corner to stand mouth agape.
Helped up by the waiting footman, Minette bestowed a smile on Freddy. ‘Good morning, Your Grace.’
The dark look he gave her did not augur a better mood than yesterday. Fa-la. No more than she’d expected.
He gave the horses the off and the tiger jumped up behind.
When they entered Hyde Park she glowered. ‘We were to go to Southwark.’
He reined in the horses. ‘Jimmy,’ he threw over his shoulder, ‘go and find some violets for the lady.’
‘Wot, at this time of year, guv?’
‘Violets,’ Freddy said firmly. ‘Take them to Barker. He will arrange for their delivery upon my return.’
The tiger muttered something under his breath and jumped down.
‘If you wanted us to be alone, you could have sent him home, instead of on a wild-goose chase,’ she said.
‘I could. But then I wouldn’t have had a reason why we were driving alone.’
‘Ah.’
He set the horses in motion. ‘Now I’ll have the whole of it.’
‘I do not understand your meaning.’
A brow shot up. His lips pressed together as if he was seeking to contain words he did not think he should say. After several long seconds he spoke. ‘Who is this woman in Southwark and how do you know of her?’
She gave him a glance full of sympathy. ‘Your men didn’t find her, did they? When we get there you will learn all you need to know.’
He muttered something under his breath. A curse, no doubt. ‘I hope you don’t live to regret this, Mademoiselle Rideau.’
‘Should we not be on a first-name basis now we are betrothed?’
He glanced over at her, his lips eased very slightly, and was that a twinkle in his eyes? ‘Minette.’
Yes, indeed, his voice had laughter at the edges.
She smiled at him. ‘Come, it will not be so bad, Freddy. We will work together to put Moreau in the ground.’
He gave a slight shake of his head. ‘I do not like this game you are playing and, believe me, I’ll not be giving you a free hand, my sweet.’
My sweet. Her heart gave an odd little flutter. Too bad he did not mean it. She smiled coolly. ‘Naturally not. But there are some things I must insist upon at the outset.’
‘We’ll deal with those later. Right now I need to know where I am going.’
‘We cross the river at London Bridge.’
His expression darkened. ‘So I am to follow your directions street by street. You do know Southwark is a hotbed of unsavoury types, do you not?’
‘Naturellement. But, then, I have you to protect me.’
His jaw flexed, his expression became thoughtful. ‘So you do.’
The drive to London Bridge remained starkly silent, with Freddy apparently too engrossed in managing his team in the press of traffic for conversation. Or too annoyed with her prevarication. Not that the streets were quiet. Indeed, they bustled with people and carriages, assaulting hearing, sight and each indrawn breath. The cacophony of colour, noise and smells became more intense as they drove east. A stench of manure, rotting vegetables and overcrowding battled with the noise of street vendors and vehicles of every kind.
It took more than an hour to reach London Bridge and make their way to Southwark.
‘Now where?’ he asked, with his usual chilly reserve and an expression she was sure was designed to keep her at a distance. Her and the rest of the world.
‘Aren’t you going to ask for the address?’
‘I have no doubt you will tell me when you are ready. I have no doubt that it will be located among the worst of the slums. You have a penchant for going where no lady should tread.’
A jibe at her presence at his club. So there was to be no quarter given between them. Not that she had really expected it. Not when he still thought she had trapped him on purpose. She almost wished she had, then she wouldn’t feel quite so aggrieved, since she could not deny that this engagement suited her purpose admirably. But his anger and distrust gave her a miserable feeling. They had never been friends, but now they were going to have to spend a great deal of time in each other’s company, and it would be better if they could at least be cordial.
‘The house we seek lies behind St George’s Church,’ she said.
His mouth tightened but he continued