Glory and the master of.., p.22
Glory and the Master of Shadows, page 22
part #1 of Lady Charlotte’s Society of Angels Series
“Hopefully, he has more in mind than shopping. Livy tailed him yesterday, and the most interesting thing he did was go for a shave.”
Bryant crossed the street and entered a large corner establishment with a yellow awning. Seeing the name of the shop, Glory felt her heart pound faster.
Eady’s Pet Emporium.
“Zounds,” she said. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”
“If you’re thinking that a pet shop would be an ideal place to store stolen dogs, then yes.” Wei frowned. “It is a diabolically clever scheme.”
“Talk about hiding in plain sight.” Excitement buzzed through Glory; all her instincts told her that Sir Barkley was in that large brick building. “I must go in.”
“Wait, little tigress,” he said tersely. “I am not certain it’s safe. Let me go.”
“You are far too recognizable. Bryant is bound to remember you after you pounded his leader into a fare-thee-well. But he won’t know me.”
Today, she was disguised as a genteel spinster. A silver-threaded wig, face paint, and spectacles assisted in aging her, and she’d chosen a dove-grey walking dress that marked her as respectable.
“I don’t want you in there alone,” Wei insisted.
“I can handle myself.” She touched his arm. “Besides, I will not be in the shop alone. While I keep them occupied in the front, you can go in the back and look for Sir Barkley.”
With Wei’s hard kiss tingling on her lips, Glory opened the door to Eady’s Pet Emporium. A bell tinkled as she entered, setting off a cacophony of sounds. Birds, cats, dogs, and other more exotic species moved excitedly in their cages, which filled three spacious aisles. On the right side of the shop was a large wooden counter, over which Bryant was having a quiet but intense conversation with a fellow wearing a leather apron over his sizeable midsection.
The men barely spared her a glance before returning to their discussion. Glory had chosen her present persona for a reason. Middle-aged spinsters were the most invisible members of society, which had its advantages.
Reminding herself to be patient, Glory meandered about the shop like a patron would, pretending to examine the merchandise. At the aisle closest to the counter, she stopped to stroke the head of a baby brown ferret, eavesdropping all the while.
“…I cannot take any more inventory,” the shop owner said. “It’s a legitimate business that I’m running, and I can’t put it at risk.”
Inventory? Does he mean the stolen dogs? Glory strained to hear more.
“You owe me, Eady.” Bryant’s voice had an edge of menace. “This is your way o’ paying off your gambling debts.”
“Well, I am done.”
“You ain’t done until I say you are,” Bryant snarled. “You know what the Wolf’ll do if ’e finds out you’ve been running a game behind ’is back?”
Scott doesn’t know about the dognappings?
Glory tucked away the useful tidbit.
“But this scheme wasn’t my idea,” Eady sputtered. “You came to me.”
“Who do you think the Wolf will believe? Me, his trusted lieutenant or you, a namby-pamby bugger who can’t pay ’is debts? I ’ave the bloke’s ear, and if you even think o’ reneging on our deal, then I’ll be telling ’im that you came to me wif this ’alf-baked plan.”
“All right, all right. I’ll do as you say.” Eady made a sudden noise in his throat. “Good afternoon, ma’am. May I help you?”
Realizing that she’d been seen, Glory played her part.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Adopting the manner of a retiring spinster, she stepped out of the aisle and came toward him. “I am shopping for a new companion and saw that you have quite a selection.”
Eady sized her up, smirking as he judged her an easy target for his wares.
“I am sure I have whatever you need,” he said.
Bryant dismissed her entirely, rapping his knuckles against the counter. “Eady, do we ’ave an understanding? I don’t want to ’ave to drag my arse in ’ere again.”
“Yes, yes,” Eady said impatiently. “I’ll expect the next, ahem, shipment as usual.”
Bryant stalked past Glory without sparing her a look.
Just as well.
“Now, madam.” Eady wore an oily smile. “Let me guess. You are in the market for a cat?”
Wei should be searching the backroom by now. Buy him time.
“How did you know?” Glory said diffidently.
“Feline companionship can be so rewarding to ladies such as yourself,” Eady said. “May I suggest one of my newest arrivals, a lovely Siamese?”
“I was thinking of a less exotic breed.” Glory made her tone timid. “A tabby, perhaps?”
“That would suit you. If you’ll step this way, I will show you a pair of tabby kittens. They are siblings, and you would enjoy owning the pair.”
Glory scrunched her forehead, pretending to think. “I was not planning to purchase two cats, sir. After all, I have ten of them already.”
“Of course you do,” Eady said with a condescending smile. “One can never have too many cats, can one?”
“I suppose you are right.” Glory peered at him through her spectacles, as if he’d given her a bright idea. “The only thing better than ten cats would be a dozen.”
“Precisely, ma’am…”
Eady trailed off as barks sounded faintly. He shifted his gaze to a door at the back of the shop.
“Do you carry accessories, sir?” Glory said hastily. “Several of my cats are in need of new collars and beds.”
“Right this way, ma’am.” Eady returned his attention to her, his eyes gleaming like the newly minted coins he was likely counting in his head. “I have everything you need and more.”
Glory hurried out of the shop. Turning the corner, she walked down two blocks, keeping an eye out for Mr. Devlin’s circling hackney. When she saw it, she waved.
As Mr. Devlin handed her into the carriage, he said in a low voice, “By Jove, we’ve done it.”
Glory saw the triumph in his eyes before she boarded the vehicle. Inside, a white-and-brindle bull terrier was sitting between Wei’s legs.
“You found him,” she exclaimed as the carriage lurched into motion. “Hello, Sir Barkley! It is very nice to meet you at last. Mrs. Mumford-Mills will be so happy to see you.”
The dog wagged his tail as she petted him between his pricked ears. Giving him a quick once-over, she found that he had a few scratches, and his short coat was crusted with dirt. His ribs also stuck out more than they should, but he seemed otherwise fine.
“There were at least two dozen dogs in the backroom,” Wei said, his jaw taut. “The bastards crammed all of them in a single cage. I wanted to take more with me, but I didn’t want to expose our plan. And we don’t know who those dogs belong to.”
“We will get those dogs back to their homes,” Glory said determinedly. “Whilst in the shop, I learned some useful information that gave me an idea. A plan that will allow us to grow two plants from one seed. We can help the dogs and get the answers you need from Scott.”
Twenty-Seven
“How am I supposed to do a final fitting of your gown without you, Lady Glory? I am a dressmaker, not a miracle worker.”
Two days later, Mrs. Quinton—Mrs. Q to intimates—folded her arms as she regarded Glory, Livy, and Fiona in a private dressing room of her celebrated atelier. The African modiste was much in demand, her list of clients ripped from the pages of Debrett’s. It was rumored that the waiting time to secure an appointment at her Bond Street shop was over a year long. Given her friendship with Charlie, Mrs. Q made an exception for the Angels. Not only did she design their everyday ensembles, but she also created some special items for them.
In the secret workshop below her atelier, she designed frocks and accessories for the Angels that were both fashionable and functional. From umbrellas with retractable blades to dresses with detachable skirts, Mrs. Q made sure the ladies were properly outfitted for their missions. Her current project, however, was an ivory ballgown for Glory’s birthday celebration, which was draped on a dressmaker’s dummy.
“You have worked miracles before, Mrs. Q,” Glory cajoled.
She was standing on a dais facing a looking glass. Instead of trying on her birthday ensemble, however, she was hurriedly getting into a male disguise.
“Hawksmoor certainly thought so.” Winking, Fi helped Glory don a waistcoat. “He was most appreciative of the unmentionables you recently made for me.”
Livy rolled her eyes as she adhered a mustache above Glory’s lip. “Perhaps that is a bit too much information, Fi?”
“Hello, pot,” Fi retorted. “As I recall, you boasted that Mrs. Q’s stockings helped you smooth things over with Hadleigh.”
A smile tucked into Livy’s cheeks. “When all else fails, hosiery paves the path for marital happiness.”
“I wouldn’t ask, Mrs. Q, but I am in a bind,” Glory pleaded. “My mama plans to return for me in three hours, and during that time I must complete a mission in Whitechapel.”
Yesterday had led to several developments.
First, the Angels had the satisfaction of closing the Mumford-Mills case. Through their viewing holes into Charlie’s study, Glory and her friends watched the touching reunion between the spinster and her beloved bull terrier. Having forgotten her own handkerchief, Glory had to borrow one from Fiona. Afterward, the Angels shared a celebratory toast with their mentor.
“Well done, Angels.” Approval shone in Charlie’s grey gaze. “Due to your efforts, Mrs. Mumford-Mills has been reunited with her faithful companion. I will also be sending a note to my contact at the Metropolitan Police about the stolen dogs being stashed at Eady’s Pet Emporium. With any luck, the police will seize the pets and reunite them with the rightful owners.”
“Before you do that.” Glory cleared her throat. “I have a request.”
“Oh?”
Having gained Wei’s permission, Glory told her group about his quest to gain justice for his family and the role Scott might play.
Her mouth tight, Charlie said, “Such injustice cannot be tolerated. As Mr. Chen has been a friend to us, we will assist him however we can.”
“That is very kind,” Glory replied. “Being a private fellow, however, Wei does not accept help easily. I tried to convince him to let the society help, but he refused.”
“Wei, is it?” Charlie’s gaze was keen.
“Yes,” Glory said steadily, despite her warm cheeks. “It is.”
Charlie sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if I am running an investigative society or a matchmaking service.”
“Why can’t it be both?” Fi quipped.
Charlie cast her gaze heavenward as the Angels pealed with laughter.
“Wei only agreed to let me share his past because it affects the closing of our case,” Glory said when the merriment subsided. “Charlie, could you delay alerting the police about Eady’s? Only a few days, I promise. Wei has contacted Scott, requesting an audience. We are scheduled to meet with him tomorrow.”
“You are going to see Scott without reinforcements?” Charlie frowned.
“Hadleigh and I can accompany you,” Livy offered. “After everything Mr. Chen has done for us, we would like to repay his kindness. Ask him if that would be all right.”
Wei had been open to accepting Hadleigh’s help. At present, he and the duke were waiting for Glory and Livy in a carriage in the lane behind the dress shop.
Sighing, Mrs. Q said, “I suppose I can figure something out.”
“Thank you ever so much!” Glory said gratefully.
“But decisions remain to be made.” A divot formed between the dressmaker’s brows. “The trimmings, for instance, and final adjustments to the cut, not to mention the accessories—”
“No need to worry,” Fi piped up. “Since Livy will be accompanying Glory, I can stay to manage the fashion choices. Glory trusts me, doesn’t she?”
“More than I trust myself,” Glory said honestly. “Thank you, Fi.”
“What are bosom friends for?” Fi placed a hat on top of Glory’s dark wig, adjusting it to a rakish angle. “Voilà. You are ready.”
Livy checked her pocket watch. “We had better not keep the men waiting. They are liable to follow their preferred instinct and go ahead without us.”
Her duke was every bit as protective as Wei.
“Good luck on your mission, my dears.” Although Mrs. Q shook her head, her lips had a slight curve as she turned to Fiona. “Now you and I have our own assignment: to create an exceptional birthday ensemble for Lady Glory.”
Fi gave a saucy salute. “You can count on me.”
At the Fancy’s flash house, the guards performed a search for weapons.
“I’ll take your blades and pistols,” one of the brutes said.
“I did not bring any,” Wei replied.
He didn’t need weapons to inflict damage. Nonetheless, he suffered through the search, grinding his teeth when the guard repeated the process with Glory. She was posing as a dark-haired lad today and while the guard’s touch was quick and impersonal, Wei did not like any man putting his hands on her. For any reason.
Once the group was pronounced free of threats, the Hadleighs and Yao were made to wait in the public area. Another guard led Wei and Glory deeper into the Wolf’s den.
“Stay close,” Wei said quietly. “Let me do the talking.”
Knowing Glory’s reckless streak, he did not find her jaunty nod all that reassuring. A part of him regretted allowing her to accompany him here. Yesterday, when he’d given her a lesson—her lightness kung fu was improving literally by leaps and bounds—he had told her about his appointment with Scott.
She had immediately insisted upon going. While he’d balked due to the danger, she had argued that since she had come up with the ploy to barter information, she deserved to see it through. When that hadn’t convinced him, she had resorted to a sweeter kind of persuasion.
Even though the door to the music room had been open and her mother or servants could walk by at any moment, she’d kissed him. Their passion had been incendiary. Before he knew it, he had her backed up against a wall, his tongue planted firmly in her mouth. She’d wriggled against him as they feasted on each other, making him so randy that he’d had the urge to toss up her skirts and make her his then and there.
He hadn’t, of course. When he made love to her for the first time, it was going to be special. Not furtive and rushed. He had other reasons to wait, too. While he did not like keeping their relationship a secret, he understood why she’d asked him to delay speaking with her father. He liked how loyal she was to the people she loved, how determined she was to do the right thing. Thus, he supported her decision, even though a part of him resented that their love had to be relegated to shadows.
Until then, Wei would not take his beloved’s virginity. Even if their relationship could not yet be made public, he was determined to court her. To show her the respect a lady deserved.
Scott was waiting for them in a private chamber. He was the picture of menacing indolence, sprawled on a weathered, throne-like chair and surrounded by a coterie of armed brutes. The familiar little white dog was lying on the gang leader’s lap, getting his belly rubbed. The juxtaposition between Scott’s gentle treatment of his pet and the cold stare he leveled upon his guests was jarring.
Scott’s throat was bare, his silvery-brown mane brushing his shoulders. He’d also rolled up his sleeves, showing his tattoo in its full glory. Wei knew it was a baiting tactic, yet his aggression simmered nonetheless.
Upon my family’s honor, I will get my answers today.
“Welcome…or should I say, welcome back?” Scott’s smile was more a baring of teeth. “I knew I recognized you. A member of the Limehouse Lads, you said?”
“It was a necessary ruse,” Wei said curtly.
“You bloody lied to me.” Scott petted his dog, his tone frigid. “Consider yourself lucky that your tongue remains in your head. I know how much you enjoy sticking it into the wench beside you.”
Wei’s muscles bunched, at the insult to Glory and the fact that Scott had recognized her. As he curled his hands, calculating how many moves it would require for him to take down the hovering half-dozen guards, Glory cleared her throat.
Stepping forward, she said brightly, “Good morning, sir.”
What in blazes is she doing? I told her not to draw attention to herself.
Before he could stop her, Glory went on, “Please accept my apologies for any past misunderstandings. Believe me when I say we had a reason for the subterfuge, which I promise to explain. First, however, I would like to thank you for granting us an audience today and to assure you that we come in goodwill. In truth, we wish to negotiate a trade…one that will be beneficial to both parties involved.”
Scott stared at her as if she were a creature he’d never seen before. Wei knew the feeling.
“You wish to bargain with me?” The gang leader’s voice was tinged with disbelief and scorn. “What could you have that would possibly interest me?”
“Information.”
“About?”
“Your, um, group.” Glory cast a nervous look at the surrounding guards. “And their loyalty to you, their leader.”
Devil take it. Wei closed his hand around Glory’s arm, pushing her behind him as the cutthroats made threatening noises and raised their weapons.
“Stand down.” Although Scott’s wave was casual, his tone brooked no refusal. “No one touches a hair on this wench’s head unless I say so. Am I clear?”
Muttering their assent, the brutes stepped back and sheathed their steel.
“As for you.” Scott aimed his gaze at Glory, who was peering around Wei’s shoulder. “You will clarify your last statement, or I will let my guards have their way with you. In whatever way they choose.”
“Leave her out of it,” Wei warned. “This business is between you and me. I want to know about the other man who shares that tattoo with you. In exchange, I will provide you with information concerning a problem in your gang. Your ship has sprung a leak; if you want to keep it afloat, you will listen to what I have to say.”
