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‘Who is this boy? What does he mean to you?’
‘He is my cousin’s child—the son of a young woman who died a while back. Even though I have never laid eyes on Toby, he means a great deal to me.’
‘Do you fear for his safety?’
‘Naturally, but I don’t think he’ll come to harm while he can earn money at freak shows.’ His frown deepened. ‘A crippled boy and a bear,’ he murmured, tossing the image around in his head. ‘A useful combination. Unless they have transport of some kind I don’t believe they will leave London. I can only surmise the man and woman are to display them to the curious at fairs and markets, and if so I’ll find them.’
Edwina’s eyes lit with interest. ‘Are you going to look for them? If so, will you take me with you?’ she asked enthusiastically. ‘Two pairs of eyes will be better than one.’
Her words caught all Adam’s attention. He ceased pacing and looked at her with narrowed eyes. What she was asking was out of the question. But what was he going to do with her? As a lad he’d have no qualms about taking her along—but this young woman was a different matter entirely.
‘No.’
Watching his finely moulded lips form his answer, Edwina was surprised and mortified by his refusal, and also a little angry, but she was even more surprised by the unmistakable regret she’d heard in his voice. ‘But why not?’ she argued.
‘For a start, fairs are known to attract violence and vice. Some are also well known centres for the distribution of stolen goods, places where criminals congregate—although I’m sure you will know all about that,’ he remarked with meaningful sarcasm. ‘Not only do you run the risk of meeting Jack, but you also risk being robbed or crushed to death—as small as you are.’
‘Do you mean to frighten me with a description of what it is like to come into contact with thieves and cutthroats, when I have lived among them for six months of my life?’
‘Aye, as an insignificant lad. If you were to appear among them now, looking as you do, you wouldn’t last five minutes. You are not an easy woman to ignore.’
Edwina was indignant. Her head lifted and her chin squared up to him, the action saying quite clearly that she was contemptuous of being told what to do by anyone. ‘I don’t need to be protected,’ she said boldly. Her anger made her eyes gleam like green stones, and her mouth hardened to unsmiling resentment.
‘And I don’t expect to have my decision questioned,’ Adam rapped out. Despite his anger he admired her courage. She did not cower, but flashed her sparkling eyes in a defiant challenge to his authority.
Edwina clenched her teeth and held back her retort. Adam’s stern, stiff-backed hauteur irritated her. All trace of softness had vanished from his face. His dark brows were drawn together, and his blue eyes were cold. The words were an order, one he expected her to obey.
‘The majority of the men swilling ale will be drunk out of their minds, and there is always the possibility of you bumping into Jack. The man is dangerous. It’s advisable not to put yourself in his path.’
Edwina met his dark scowl with a heated glower, her fingers drumming upon her slim hips. Her expression dared him to attempt control of her. ‘Thank you for your concern, but I don’t remember giving you the right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Who do you think you are, anyway?’
‘Your saviour, it would seem,’ Adam replied drily. ‘Listen to what I’m saying, will you, and take heed? I’m more advanced in years than you, so I know what I’m talking about. It’s a man’s world out there, Ed.’
‘You’re right, but that does not mean that I have to submit to their will. My own strength was my only weapon when I defied Jack Pierce and ran away, and that will is still as strong as it ever was.’
‘Nevertheless, the places I intend searching are no place for a respectable young woman.’
‘I am not a respectable young woman,’ she argued heatedly, firmly, ‘who needs cosseting—to be treated like some fragile sugar confection. I can handle myself.’
‘As you did last night? If you could handle yourself you wouldn’t be here now,’ he pointed out. ‘I will not take you with me and that is my final word on the subject.’
These words were delivered in a cold, lethal voice, and Edwina grew pale beneath her own anger. ‘If I have a mind I shall return to the streets, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.’ She was adamant and not to be put off by his anger. He was standing not three feet away from her, looming over her, his blue eyes gleaming with deadly purpose, and the uncompromising lines at the sides of his mouth had not been there before. She could see that same cold rage as when she’d stolen his watch, and also a cynicism and ruthless set of his jaw—things she’d obviously been too blinded by her predicament to see before. ‘You can’t stop me. I’ll disguise myself as a boy again,’ Edwina persisted.
‘And then Jack would be sure to recognise you—and if he’s as angry as you say he is, he’ll be looking for you. No, Ed. You must abandon your disguise for good.’
‘I will do as I please,’ she persisted crossly.
‘I’m sure you will, you stubborn, wilful little fool,’ Adam retorted, combing his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘I have been in your company twice and each time you’ve been in some scrape or other. Little did I realise when I rescued you from that animal’s clutches that I was committing myself to certain disaster.’
‘My, a proper knight in shining armour, aren’t you, Adam? I didn’t ask you to interfere,’ Edwina snapped.
‘Why, you—damn you for an ingrate.’ He stood in front of her, looking down at her upturned face. It had whitened with her anger, revealing the pale freckles across her nose. The sunlight lancing through the window brightened her hair to a living flame, making an aureole of light around her small, proud head. He looked at her thoughtfully, touched by her vulnerability. He felt himself dwelling with a good deal of pleasure on what it would be like to get to know her better. But as he looked at her, a kind of rage welled up in him against Jack Pierce, and also against the person or persons who had abandoned her to a life of crime, alone on the streets, through no fault of her own.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so brutal. But can’t you see that I am concerned about your present distress and offer my assistance only with the kindest intent?’ he said on a softer note.
The faintest of smiles curved his lips, so slight it was scarcely discernible. Edwina felt a poignant emotion welling up inside her, a tenderness she never believed she could feel for any human being. Immediately the fight went out of her. She moved closer to him.
‘If I offended you, then I beg your pardon. I’ve been on my own and had to look out for myself for too long. It’s such a long time since anyone showed any concern about me, about what I do, that it takes some getting used to. I’m sorry I made you angry. Please don’t be. I’d rather we were friends than enemies.’ She offered him her hand as was proper.
The gesture made Adam smile suddenly, a slow, startlingly lazy smile as he took her hand in his firm grasp. His gaze scanned her face, and when he raised her hand to his lips the pressure of his mouth lingered longer than was customary.
‘Friends we are, Ed, or may I call you Edwina?’
‘As you please.’
‘Then Edwina it is. So, now that is established, what am I supposed to do with you? You’ve made it plain that you will feel uncomfortable living here. And you can forget any notion you have of donning your boy’s clothes and taking to the streets. You’ve done with that.’
‘Then what am I to do? I must earn some money. How else am I to live?’
Adam’s eyes narrowed, studying her with unnerving intensity for a moment as he considered her situation carefully. Ever since their first meeting the lad ‘Ed’ had haunted him. And now he’d been transformed into female form, he couldn’t let this young woman with the most remarkable face he’d ever seen simply walk out of his life.
Aware that his fascination was rapidly winning out over his common sense, he said to his own utter astonishment, ‘You could come and live with me for the time being.’ She looked so surprised and so hesitant for a moment that he wished he had not made the extraordinary, impulsive suggestion, but when he saw a little smile tug at the corners of her lips, he knew she was not as shocked as he at first thought.
‘Live with you?’ she murmured, seeing his blue eyes darken to indigo. ‘Do—do you want me to work for you?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘I—I’m not very good at woman’s work. I—I can’t cook.’
‘I don’t need a cook,’ he said, mentally shaking his head at the na?vety of her. ‘That position is already taken—and I have servants enough to administer to my personal needs.’
‘Then what would you require of me?’
‘Oh—this and that.’ His smile was lazy and infuriatingly secretive.
Misinterpreting his meaning, Edwina flushed scarlet. ‘Kindly explain what you mean by “this and that”?’ she asked tentatively in an attempt to clarify matters. ‘Do you mean to establish me as your paramour? If so, I must tell you that I will be no man’s property. I intend standing on my own feet.’
Adam’s eyes took on a humorous glint. He placed a finger over her lips. ‘Heaven forbid I would dare suggest anything so bold. You would never be my property, Edwina. What I will ask of you will take very little effort on your part, I can promise you that,’ he said softly, ‘but I think you will enjoy the work. I’ll pay you generously, if that’s what’s worrying you, but I must warn you that I’m a hard taskmaster. Shortly, I have to go away for a while. Since I shall be absent for quite some time you are welcome to make use of my house. Now, I have to go. I have pressing matters to attend to.’
He took her hand, and when he would have raised it once more to his lips she pulled it away and stepped back with an arch smile.
‘You take a liberty. Do you make a habit of kissing the hands of all your employees?’
‘It’s not usual.’
‘Then as my employer you’ll not kiss mine.’ Edwina raised a brow and regarded him with the same amusement he had earlier directed at her.
Adam was clearly at pains to control his laughter as he playfully chucked her under the chin. ‘Cheeky as ever! You are a most uncommon, intractable wench, Edwina.’
‘I merely protect my honour,’ she countered. ‘But isn’t what you are proposing to do rather shocking and likely to be frowned upon by polite society?’
‘Being an unconventional man, I care nothing for polite society.’
She cocked her head to one side, giving him an enquiring look. ‘Forgive me, but I can’t help noticing that you’re on familiar terms with Mrs Drinkwater. Do you often visit her establishment?’
He grinned. ‘It’s not my habit to visit bordellos. I’ve known Dolly since I was a small boy. She used to work for my family as housekeeper. When she left she decided to settle for something less respectable, but far more remunerative.’
‘And is there a Mr Drinkwater?’
‘Once. He was laid to rest many years ago. Dolly and I always keep in touch. I’ll have a word with her on my way out and tell her what we’ve decided.’
He strode towards the door where he turned and looked back at her. For a moment his gaze held hers with penetrating intensity, and unexpectedly Edwina felt an answering frisson of excitement. The slight smile that curved his lips warned her he was aware of that brief response. His eyes moved over her face as if he were memorising it, and then, with a slight satisfied nod of his handsome head, he left her.
Chapter Four
T he thought of going with Adam to his home, working for him, had great appeal. It loomed on the horizon of Edwina’s mind like a sweet haven…waiting. Peace and quiet was what she wanted. No more Jack. No more Uncle Henry. No more Earl of Taplow.
No sooner had Adam left than Harriet breezed in. She was certainly different to anyone Edwina had ever known, and it was impossible not to warm to her.
‘So, you know the great Adam Rycroft!’ Harriet exclaimed, sitting on the edge of the silk-covered bed.
‘Yes, but not very well. He—he’s asked me to work for him.’
‘Oh? Doing what?’
‘That’s just it. I don’t know.’
‘He comes here often to see Mrs Drinkwater. She’s quite fond of him—known him since he was a lad, apparently. He’s very popular with the ladies, and he’s a connoisseur of beautiful women.’
‘And he makes love to them all, I expect,’ Edwina said laughing softly. Spectacularly good looking and imbued with potent masculine allure, she was sure Adam Rycroft was rarely refused.
Harriet smiled knowingly, lying back and propping herself up on her elbow. ‘More than likely. He’s no saint where women are concerned. But mostly he paints them—professionally, of course.’
Edwina looked at her with surprised amazement, settling herself down on the bed facing her. ‘He’s an artist?’ Recalling the sketch Adam had made of her, she should have known. She shook her head at the mysterious combination of gentleman and painter. ‘Is he good?’
‘I’m no judge, but some say he’s the best—a genius. His pictures cost the earth. You, I wager, are going to be the subject of a painting. He must want you to sit for him, that’ll be what he wants you to do.’
‘Sit?’
‘Be a model—so he can paint you. Make the most of it, love. Duchesses and the like consider it a privilege to sit for the great man. There are many women who would die to be in your shoes.’
Edwina was impressed. ‘You obviously like him.’
‘Oh, he’s quite endearing, really. He’s rich, has oodles of charm when he chooses to employ it, but the man’s like a human whirlwind and a positive despot when he’s at his easel. Don’t let him browbeat and bully you. When he’s involved in a painting he loses all track of time. He’ll have you sitting there for hours if you let him. I sat for him once—once was enough, believe me. A girl could catch her death sitting for him.’
‘Oh?’
‘He’s a master of the human form, love—the female form—and there’s more than one model he’s painted in the nude. Mind you, he has to pay extra for a girl to take her clothes off. Titled ladies flock to have him paint them, and they all fall prey to his fatal attraction. By the time he’s finished they’re head over heels in love with him—and more than one husband regrets his choice of artist to paint his wife.’
‘Goodness! Why on earth would he want to paint me?’
‘Probably because you’re different to all the other models who grace his couch. Your face is unusual—interesting, he would call it. He probably sees you as a challenge, love. Who knows—’ she laughed, tossing her head so her auburn curls bounced ‘—you might turn out to be his greatest masterpiece yet. He might even make you famous.’
‘I sincerely hope not. I don’t want to be famous. That kind of notoriety I can do without,’ she said, thinking of Uncle Henry. Her uncle was a man of fine tastes. In particular he was an avid admirer of paintings, and had built up an enviable collection over the years. Many of the paintings he hung for their quality rather than decoration, which was the case in many houses. If he were to see one of her, he would know exactly where to come looking for her. Her mind shied away from the thought. ‘But what’s Adam like, Harriet, really?’
‘Well,’ she said, lowering her eyes and reflecting for a moment, ‘he’s certainly a complex character, and he can be utterly ruthless at times. So be warned, Edwina. His fury is unequalled when roused—as I and some of the other girls who have sat for him know to our cost, having been on the receiving end.’
‘Is he married?’ Edwina asked, thinking of the stunningly beautiful brunette she had seen him with outside the theatre.
‘No, love. Adam Rycroft is a self-proclaimed single man, although he’s always careful to choose a mistress whose company he enjoys. She has to be unmarried, passionate and experienced, and highly pleasurable in bed, a woman who will not mistake lovemaking and desire with love—who will make no demands and expect no promises.’
‘Goodness, you make him sound cold hearted and self-centred.’
‘He’s certainly volatile. I don’t think anyone’s got his true measure—except Mrs Drinkwater, perhaps, but she guards her tongue whenever she speaks of him. He’s totally committed to his work, a perfectionist, and he won’t allow anything or anyone to interfere with that. Have you given any thought as to where you will live?’
‘He—he’s offered to let me stay in his house.’
The words brought Harriet upright. ‘Ooh—now that is a first! And you said yes.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve nowhere else to go, Harriet—only back to the streets and my life as a thief.’
Harriet’s eyes opened wide in shocked amazement. ‘Thief?’
‘Yes. I picked pockets.’ Edwina smiled, feeling a slight unease at disclosing her criminal past, but somehow she didn’t think Harriet would judge her.
She was right. Harriet sat up with a joyous laugh. ‘I insist that you tell me every single detail of this unbelievable story if I have to wring it out of you with my own bare hands. Now, begin at the beginning.’
Edwina started to refuse, but Harriet looked so determined that it was useless. Besides, she suddenly wanted to talk about it, and found herself giving Harriet a brief account of what her life had been like working for Jack for the past six months, talking to this engaging girl as she had never talked to anyone before. At the end of the story Harriet stared at her with a combination of mirth and wonder. ‘Does that shock you?’
‘No more than you were, when you realised the great Adam Rycroft had brought you to a brothel and I was one of Mrs Drinkwater’s whores,’ she remarked, gulping down a giggle. ‘It’s too delicious for words.’
‘Do you live here, Harriet?’
‘No. Some of the girls do, but I don’t. I’ve got a room over a bakery off Drury Lane. It’s not very big, and it’s by no means grand, but it’s mine. Every night I work one of the gaming tables at Dolly’s Place, and afterwards…’ she shrugged, unabashed ‘…well, you know.’
‘Yes. Haven’t you got a family, Harriet?’
She nodded. ‘Across the river in Rotherhithe. Why?’
‘And—do they approve of what you do?’
A frown marred Harriet’s smooth forehead as she considered the question for a moment before replying. ‘I suppose not. It did cross my mind in the beginning that there is something to be ashamed of in my profession—and, in fact, there is, but my mother is poor with four little ones to bring up alone since my father died. He worked in the shipbuilding trade and met with an accident, which killed him. I send my mother what I can. She doesn’t question me how I earn it.’ She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me. It doesn’t matter,’ she said simply.
Edwina shook her head, unconvinced, and then, placing a hand over Harriet’s, said, ‘It doesn’t matter to me, either, Harriet.’ There could be nothing wonderful or exciting about Harriet’s profession, but her open friendliness spoke volumes about her. There was something about her that inspired trust and put one completely at ease. Harriet Crabtree might be a whore and wicked in the eyes of some, but in this age of cruelty and unconcern she had a caring nature and a kind heart, and these were rare. ‘Do you know, I’m glad I’ve met you.’
‘Really? I feel the same way,’ Harriet confessed ingenuously. ‘I wish you weren’t leaving.’ With a disheartened sigh she stood up, eyeing the dress Edwina was wearing. ‘I’m glad the dress fits. I’ll try and find you some more clothes. You’ll have to have something to wear until you can buy some of your own.’ She smiled, holding out her hand. ‘Before the great man comes to fetch you, come and meet the others girls—the ones who have managed to crawl out of bed, that is.’
The afternoon was hot and sultry when Edwina, clad in her donated finery, climbed into Adam Rycroft’s shiny black carriage. It was drawn by a matching pair of prancing bays and driven by a scarlet-and-gold-liveried servant. She settled back against the luxurious cream upholstery, wondering if all that was happening to her was a continuing dream. Was she really sitting in a grand carriage with a handsome stranger, travelling across London to goodness knows where? She also wondered how foolhardy she had been to accept Adam’s proposal that she stay at his house.
