Perilous Princess: A Sexy Historical Romance Page 17

  The guard hesitated, studying him.

  “Yours, too,” Sawby added.

  Anna blessed Sawby’s instincts. The guard would not have cooperated if he thought there was nothing to gain from it for himself.

  The guard looked toward the carriage, but Anna knew that all he would see would be what he thought was a man with a coat turned up and a hat sitting low, a slice of flesh and eyes visible between.

  The guard shrugged. “‘tis no mind to me where he gets his jollies. Pay up.” He held out his hand.

  Sawby slipped coins onto the man’s palm. “That’s for now. There’ll be more later, once Esmeralda has visited.”

  “Wait here.” The guard shut the door.

  Sawby came over to the carriage door. “I only gave him tuppence, but he didn’t protest.”

  “You did very well, Sawby,” Anna assured him.

  Sawby looked toward the door. “How long do you think this might take?”

  “If she is with a client, we might have to wait for a while.”

  Sawby’s mouth dropped open as he looked at her with something like horror. “How would ye be knowing such things, ma’am?”

  “I don’t know them for certain, but even when I buy ribbons at the haberdasher, I am required to wait my turn.”

  He cleared his throat roughly several times and rubbed at his head over and over. She understood his discomfort and did not speak any more, but waited in silence.

  After what felt like a very long time, listening to the soft sounds of the night, the whisper of a breeze, the shuffle of feet in the alleys and by-ways that fed onto the street, the soft susurration of noise from the building they sat next to that seeped through windows and doors, hinting at the proceedings inside, finally the dark door opened once more. A small figure stepped out.

  She was not wearing the wrapper, but a dress that looked very nearly respectable, except that the big sleeve had drawn it off one shoulder completely, showing bare flesh beneath.

  Sawby caught Esmeralda’s elbow and pulled her over to the carriage and opened the door. “Ye want her inside?” he asked, carefully not referring to Anna by her title or her name. Anna blessed his discretion yet again. She had been right to call upon Sawby. He was just the help she needed.

  “Yes and shut the door, please,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  Esmeralda gasped, staring up at the carriage. “What’s this all about then?” she demanded.

  “There’s a crown in it for you, if you step inside and speak to me,” Anna said.

  A crown was a lot of money for someone like Esmeralda—and for Anna, too. She did not know how she would restore her “walking around” money once this supply was gone. But for right now, she did not care.

  Esmeralda dithered, torn between the money and the need to return to the safety of the whorehouse.

  So Anna pulled the last crown she owned out of her pocket and held it up so that the dim light from the doorway would shine upon it.

  Esmeralda shrugged. She stepped up into the carriage and settled herself on the opposite seat.

  Anna was assailed by a wash of aromas, some of them mildly pleasant toilet waters, the others making her think of the activities she and Rhys enjoyed in the bedroom, except these scents were stale and most unpleasant. She wrinkled her nose, but kept her jaw clamped together to hide her reaction.

  “Tell me about the Duke of Marienburg,” Anna said.

  “Again?” Esmeralda smiled. “You thought I wouldn’t remember someone like you with your skin and those eyes?”

  Startled, Anna stared at her. It was the first time in her life that anyone had ever said her skin and eyes were memorable. Rhys had been the very first to ever compliment her on her hair, but now a strange woman was speaking of even more assets. Anna would have to think about this, later.

  Esmeralda pointed at her. “Wouldn’t have suspected a demure thing like you would be capable of a masquerade like this, but it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I told you this morning. The Duke wasn’t here the night you asked about.” Esmeralda’s eyes narrowed. “I heard tell he was arrested for murdering his brother. Is that why you’re here?”

  “That isn’t any concern of yours. This morning, when you said the Duke had not been visiting that night, I could tell you were lying.”

  “Woz not,” Esmeralda shot back stoutly and with such firmness that Anna believed her.

  “Very well, but you were not telling the whole truth. I thought you might tell me, where there are no men to hear.”

  Esmeralda’s smile broadened. “Coz you and I are alike, you mean?”

  Anna hesitated. “I don’t think we are anything like each other.”

  “So she says, as she sits wearing a man’s clothes, all alone in the middle of the night, asking after a murderer,” Esmeralda scoffed.

  Anna considered her again.

  Esmeralda leaned forward and the stench billowed at her movement.

  Anna swallowed and blinked rapidly.

  Esmeralda tugged at the fabric of her trousers, over the knee. “You’re different from other ladies I’ve met—oh, don’t look like that. I’ve met my share. I wasn’t always working a dive like this one. I was a high class whore once. So I know quality when I see it. You’re quality, but you’re different. You think better than the rest. You do things your own way.”

  Anna frowned. “Is that what you mean by us being the same? That we are both different?”

  Esmeralda smiled. “See, I knew you could think for yourself. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” She held out her hand. “Give me the crown.”

  “Not until you tell me everything you know about the Duke.”

  “I don’t say another word until you cross my palm, Princess.”

  Anna mentally sighed. The money was spent whether she got the information she wanted or not. Esmeralda had presented herself at the coach and that was all she had been asked.

  So Anna held out the coin.

  Esmeralda snatched it and tucked it inside the bodice of her dress and sniffed. “I told you I was telling you the truth. The Duke wasn’t here that night.”

  “But….” Anna bit her lip.

  “But.” Esmeralda sat back and crossed her arms. “There’s many a night when he’s not been here and paid me to say he was.”

  Anna’s heart squeezed. “Was the night my father died one of them?” she asked carefully.

  Esmeralda shook her head. “No, but that don’t mean he wasn’t where he usually goes when he’s supposedly with me.”

  “And where might that be?”

  Esmeralda smiled and it was a slow, knowing smile. “He paid me good money to make sure no one knew where he was.”

  “And now he’s going to be tried for murder. I think the reason the Duke is telling everyone he killed the Prince is because he doesn’t want to admit to where he really was.”

  Esmeralda snorted. “Like as not, you’re right.”

  “Where did he go? I know you know.”

  Esmeralda spat on her hand, rubbed both together, then held out the moist palm. “Another crown, or I’ll never tell.”

  “That is outrageous…!” Anna began, indignation making her straighten up, her spine snapping stiff and her jaw tightening.

  “Anna,” Sawby said softly, through the open top half of the door. It was a warning. Anna remembered why she was here. She calmed herself.

  Sawby pushed his hand through the opening, one of the two crowns she had given him sitting on it.

  Anna indicated that Esmeralda could take it.

  The woman dealt with the second coin the same way she had the first, her grin showing bad teeth. “Reckoned you’d pay up, with someone’s neck at risk.”

  “But that is the last payment I will make. You’ve been paid far more than your usual salary, I wager. It’s time you earned it. Where was the Duke?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sawby waited by the curb
as Anna dashed into the house and up the stairs. It was still the very early hours of the morning and it felt like most of London was asleep.

  Rhys was certainly asleep. He was snoring softly and Anna shook him awake impatiently. “Get dressed,” she said, her voice low. She was aware of Jilly sleeping not far away. “Rhys, wake up. Listen to me. You must get dressed and come with me.”

  He finally woke and sat up in bed, the sheet falling around his bare hips and reminding Anna of how she had left him. She lit the candle quickly and he ground the heel of his hand into his eye sockets and looked at her, taking in the clothes she wore. “Where have you been?” he said sharply.

  “I went to visit Esmeralda again.” She stripped her clothing quickly, down to her pantalets and camisole, then wrapped the corset around her, drew in her breath and held it as she fastened the hooks at the front. “You might have to help me with the last of these,” she said in an out-gasp.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded. “What do you mean, you went to visit Esmeralda again? You went dressed like that?”

  She looked up from the hooks. “I’ll tell you on the way to Newgate. Do you think the warden will let you speak to my uncle at this very early hour?”

  “He’s about to be tried for murder. Simon will let me speak to him whenever I have the need,” Rhys said absently. “Why?”

  “Get dressed,” she encouraged him. “I will explain myself on the way there.”

  When they reached the footpath, Rhys’ stride broke as he took in Sawby and the carriage with the crest on it. He looked at Anna for an explanation.

  “Sawby, this is my husband, Rhys Davies, attorney at law.”

  “Sir,” Sawby said, tugging at his brim.

  “Rhys, this is my father’s former driver, Sawby. He has been of immense assistance to me tonight and helped to keep me safe.”

  “Is that correct?” Rhys growled.

  Sawby sensibly opened the carriage door and stepped aside, curtailing the conversation. Anna picked up her skirts and climbed inside, cutting off any more conversation and forcing Rhys to step in, too. He dropped onto the seat next to her as Sawby closed the door and turned to face her. “What on earth have you done?” he demanded. “Why are we heading for Newgate before the sun rises?”

  “For two reasons. The first is that my uncle doesn’t generally retire until the early hours of the morning. He prefers to tire himself out properly, so that he can sleep. He’ll be asleep now and when you speak to him, he will be tired and careless with his words.”

  “And the second reason?” He was listening to her carefully.

  Anna told him what had transpired with Esmeralda and the information she had given her about her uncle’s habits.

  Rhys’ foot tapped the floor as he stared down at it, thinking hard. “You are right as you usually are, Anna, my love. This is the best time to corner your uncle with the facts, when he is groggy and unprepared.”

  Her heart jumped as she stared at Rhys. Her breath, too. Had he just said what she thought he had said? Did she just imagine it?

  Don’t be foolish, she told herself firmly. Rhys was merely using a common endearment that any man might bestow upon his wife. Because a great many men did use it, it had no significant meaning. Even the tone he had used to say it had been off-hand. He hadn’t been aware of what he was saying. She certainly couldn’t hold him to such a casual utterance.

  But Rhys was still speaking and she forced herself to concentrate.

  “Your uncle is a dissembler. He has been covering up his and your father’s indiscretions and fits of madness all his life. He is too used to lying. But this will knock the props out from under him if we use it properly.”

  “Perhaps you should interview him by yourself,” Anna said carefully, for he seemed to be assuming that she would be in the room with him when he pronounced the truth.

  Rhys shook his head firmly and picked up her hand. “No, you should be there. You unearthed this truth and if I have guessed your uncle’s true nature rightly, then he will be discomposed by your presence.”

  Anna considered that. “Yes, he does not like to be around women for very long. They make him uneasy, I think, with their chatter about matters he considers trivial.”

  “That explains a great deal about you,” Rhys said. His fingers tightened about hers. “Listen. This is how we will manage the interview.”

  He spoke until the carriage pulled up outside the tall building with its narrow windows. There were very few of the windows showing light, but the ones over the gate were glowing, which meant the guards were all awake, as they should be.

  Anna brushed down her day dress and made sure her hair was neatly pinned in the arrangement that Jilly had taught her to do for herself if need be. It was a more flattering style than the tight bun she had kept it in since she was fourteen and her hems had been turned down.

  She looked up at the forbidding building, then at Rhys.

  He took her hand, right there in front of Sawby and anyone who might be looking out of the windows at that early hour. The sky was lightening in the east and the air was chilled with pre-dawn stillness.

  “It will be fine,” Rhys told her. “You’ll see.”

  She shook her head. “This is only half the challenge, Rhys. We must find out who really killed my father now. It is imperative. If my uncle is no longer the suspect, they will look at you next. You were the only other person in the house with my father.”

  His expression sobered. “One hurdle at a time, Anna.”

  She glanced up at Sawby. “Thank you, Sawby,” she told him.

  He touched his brim and nodded, which was proper, but even in the pre-dawn dimness, she could see his pleased smile beneath the moustache. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Sawby likes you,” Rhys observed as they walked together to the big front gate.

  “I’m not sure why,” Anna confessed. “For most of the time I was in England, before I met you, I lived in a state of absent-mindedness, barely noticing anything that happened around me. I don’t think I even looked at him more than the one time he was introduced to me.”

  “I can see why he likes you very plainly,” Rhys replied.

  It warmed her, even though she didn’t know exactly what he was so sure about.

  It took several minutes to rouse the guards enough to come to the gate in answer to their summons. Rhys had to convince them to let him in and only achieved entry when he invoked the Queen’s name and mentioned the family connection of his client.

  Finally, the gate was opened and they were allowed to slip through into the cavernous arch behind it, then up the stairs to the room over the tower where Simon Creek, the warden, kept his office. The warden was not there but one of his lieutenants, Grimsworth, was standing in for him. Rhys knew Grimsworth quite well and explained his need quickly.

  Grimsworth tossed the keys to the guard. “Do as Mr. Davies requests,” he said. “Bring the prisoner to the interview room. Be quick and quiet about it, lads. There’s no need to disturb the sleepers with too much fuss and bother.”

  “I appreciate this,” Rhys told him. “It is an unconventional hour, I admit. But the need is great.”

  Grimsworth waved him away. “I’ve never known ye to cry wolf if the beast wasn’t at the door. Johnston there will see you to the room. I know you know the way, but with the lady on your arm, ‘tis best you have an armed escort.”

  Rhys thanked him once more and they were led by the uniformed policeman to a stone-lined room with absolutely no adornment and no furniture beyond a crude table and two stout chairs. One of the same narrow windows she had seen from the front of the building punctured the thick walls high up by the ceiling, only this one was covered in thick iron bars.

  She shivered.

  “Please take the chair,” Rhys said quietly.

  “I would rather stand,” she confessed. “I am too nervous to sit.”

  He gave her a small smile and touched her cheek, but this time he did not try to
assure her that everything would be well and she was glad he did not.

  They did not have to wait very long. The two guards who had been sent to fetch the Duke walked him into the room, a hand on each of his arms.

  Her uncle was disheveled and unshaved. His eyes were bleary. Just as she had suspected, he was thick with sleep, almost stumbling with it. His shirt was dirty and one sleeve was torn.

  The two guards put him in the chair on the other side of the table to Rhys. The one called Johnston nodded and they both left, locking the iron door behind them. The sound of the lock turning was loud in the cavernous, cold room.

  Anna shivered again.

  Rupert was studying her, his eyes narrowed. “What is the Princess doing here?” he demanded of Rhys.

  Rhys spread his fingers on the table, as if he was laying out cards before Rupert. “Annalies has uncovered information about your activities the night her father died. I thought you would prefer that we discuss the matter in private before I use the information to secure your release.”

  He had her uncle’s full attention now, although Rupert pretended to be disinterested. “I have told you what happened that night. I’m somewhat astonished that you did not take my word for it.”

  “I might have, but your niece did not. Anna?”

  She stepped toward the table, drawing her uncle’s gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, but he had been roused by Rhys’ revelation and his gaze was sharp enough. “You look quite common, child.”

  “Thank you,” Anna replied, with a pleased note in her voice.

  Her uncle blinked. He had not been expecting that.

  If she had still lived under the same roof as him, her uncle would have beaten her for not maintaining her rank and position in a suitable manner. Here, he could do nothing and besides, the barb did not even prick her skin.

  It made her realize just how far a distance she had travelled from her father’s door to Rhys’. Her uncle could never hurt her again. Neither could her father. There was absolutely nothing they could do to her. Her marriage to a common man had given her a freedom of spirit and body that had been denied her before.

  So Anna smiled her warmest smile at Rupert. “The night my father died, you were visiting Lady Cynthia Grey at her townhouse on Hanover Square, while her husband was at his club in St. James’.”