Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero (11 page)

“My guardian,
Mr Smirke was taken ill. I’ve come to nurse him.”

The oily
Innkeeper wiped his nose on his arm and looked her up and down with
a leer. “Come to nurse ‘im ‘ave yer…well I suppose even the devil
‘as to ‘ave ‘is day; first landing two doors down. When yer done
nursing ‘im, I’ve got an itch you can scratch.”

“I beg your
pardon, but Mr Smirke would be very upset if I scratched an
Innkeeper. You’ll have to use a wooden spoon from the kitchen.” She
ignored his puzzled look and ran up the stairs. Standing next to
the second door was a gentleman cleaning his strange pointy teeth
with a gold tooth pick. “Is this Mr Smirke’s room?” Her voice was
barely above a whisper. “Do you know if he’s resting?”

The man leaned
down and whispered back, “He’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you…”
Looking up at the pointy teeth Joan spoke before thinking. “Were
you born like that?”

Mulgrave’s
glee faded to irritation. “Like what?”

“Your teeth,
they’re pointy…it must be a difficult trial. How do you eat soup?
Did they call you Ratty at school?” Mulgrave barred his teeth and
growled at the irritating young woman. She didn’t wait for a reply.
She slipped into the room and closed the door. Her eyes swept from
the empty bed around to where John stood with his back to the wall,
his arms folded tightly across his chest. “Mr Smirke. Where are
your clothes?” As he lifted his head she could see her guardian’s
face looked almost green. “You look terrible. It’s freezing in
here…why haven’t you asked for a fire? Why aren’t you lying down?
Who is that ugly man outside?”

“What the
blazes are you doing here?”

He didn’t look
very grateful for her concern. She hurried to his side and set down
her basket. “I received your note. You must be so ill you don’t
remember sending for me.”

“Please say
you brought Peter, James or Cecil!”

“The note said
you wanted to see me alone…”

“How could you
be so stupid? James would know I’d never allow you within a hundred
yards of this pit. Oh please God don’t let us die at the Dog and
Flea. I swear I’ll be good. I’ll take good care of her…”

“You sound
very ill…did you fall? Are those fresh bruises on your chest? I
brought your ointment…”

The door
opened and the man with pointy teeth stepped inside. “At last, all
the players in the theatre of love are gathered. Kindly disrobe
Miss Lark and throw me your dress.” He closed the door and pulled
out his pistol. “You’d best hurry. Mr Smirke doesn’t have the
strength to stand there all day.”

Joan’s
features contorted with confusion, “Disrobe? What are you talking
about?”

“Your
dress…take it off and throw it here.”

“Why?”

“Because I
insist.”

“If you’re
hoping to pawn it, you won’t get more than…”

“Just take off
the ugly sack before I lose my temper.”

“Is he
mad?”

“He’s a
cowardly swine.”

“Why does he
want my dress?”

“He probably
wants to see if it’ll fit. He’s probably desperate for a black
silk.”

“Just undress
woman before I shoot your lover.”

“I’m afraid
you’re mistaken Mr…whoever you are. Mr Smirke is my guardian. He’d
never compromise me because then he’d end up in Hell forever and he
has no intention of going back there, do you Mr Smirke?”

“No.”

The sharp
teeth briefly flashed the two captives, “Well that’s a pity,
because I’m going to make sure that he does, but first he’s going
to suffer a lifetime of your heinous company. Take off the
dress.”

“He looks like
a rat.”

“He is a rat.
At school we called him…”

“Shut up John
and tell her to take it off.”

“I can’t take
off my dress…it’s freezing in here. I might catch a chill. I might
die of fever.”

“In a few
minutes you’ll be warming John under the bedclothes. Take it off or
I’ll have your chemise as well.”

Joan
reluctantly untied her bonnet and removed her shawl, “This is so
embarrassing. I can’t believe I fell for that stupid letter. I
didn’t even stop to think why you wanted to see me alone…” Mulgrave
cocked his pistol, the evil sound speeding up her shaking hands.
“Don’t shoot Mr Rat, my hands are freezing. I can’t go any faster.
Did your Nurse beat you every time you wanted a hug?” She
unbuttoned the front of her gown and pulled it over her head.

“I’m the Earl
of Mulgrave; you’ll address me as my Lord.”

“Your name is
Dullgrave? I suppose that means you’re another fool who plans to be
shoved into some stinking family vault without any flowers?”

“It’s Mulgrave
with an M as in Murder.”

“If you murder
us you’ll end up in Hell…”

“Shut up woman
and give me your dress or I put a lead ball in your guardian.” Joan
reluctantly threw her gown on the floor half way to the sneering
man and turned to face the wall, her modesty barely covered by her
chemise and stays. “What pretty legs. It’s a pity their attached to
a shrew. Now for the fun part John; put your arms around the wench
or do I have to encourage you with a bullet?”

“Leave my Mr
Smirke alone; he’s ill!”

“Of course
he’s ill. I punched him in the chest, right where I ran him through
with my rapier. I’ll count to ten and if she’s not in your arms,
I’ll shoot you. One…” Joan looked up into burning orbs of molten
obsidian. “…two…”

“I’m sorry Mr
Smirke. I should have asked Cecil to accompany me.”

“…three…”

“I don’t know
what I was thinking…I was just so worried about you. Please don’t
be angry with me Mr Smirke…sniff.”

“…four…five…six…seven…eight…” John reached out a shaking arm and
encouraged the teary-cornflowers to come to rest on his collarbone.
He paled as the weight of her head against his chest translated
into pain and glared at the man standing near the door. “She looks
such a pretty armful. It’s a pity she’s a…what was it you called
her this morning in the street John, a maddening thankless chit?
Perhaps next time you’ll wait till you’re in private to scream at
your dependant, I mean wife.”

“Why is he
doing this?”

Joan felt her
guardian slowly exhale as both of his warm arms pulled her closer.
“He hates me. I wasn’t very kind to him at school.”

“That’s one
way of putting it. I want to see you suffer. I want to see you weep
like a…” The door crashed open with force, smashing into Mulgrave’s
nose and knocking the pistol in his hand into the air.

“It’s cocked!”
Feeling sea sick, John impulsively twisted the woman in his arms
towards the wall and shielded her with his body. The shot exploded
behind him as screams filled the air. John clutched Joan for
support as he turned to see who was hurt. Mulgrave was curled up in
a ball on the floor holding his bloody nose and screaming
unintelligible curses. John sighed in relief and offered silent
thanksgivings. He’d live another day.

“Hello little
b-brother, we thought you m-might need some help. We’d have arrived
sooner, but James t-took us to the Hog and Flea.”

“It was an
easy mistake.”

“Never mind,
its c-clear our John has everything in hand.” Peter winked at John
as Cecil picked up the black dress and started fighting with his
brothers over which one would hand it to Joan.

James kneeled
down and picked up Mulgrave by the coat collar. “At least I won’t
have to break my hand smashing his nose.”

Joan pulled
her thoughts from the warm body smelling of lemons and sweat and
pointed at the fallen man, “That’s the rat who skewered my Mr
Smirke.” The Earl of Mulgrave sobbed with terror as six pairs of
black eyes suddenly glared down at him.

“You know what
we do to rats?”

“Please don’t
hurt me, I’m defenceless.”

“As
d-defenceless as an injured right handed man learning he’d have to
duel left handed? You chose swords. You knew he couldn’t defend
himself; you coward!”

Mulgrave
whimpered as he tried to think of a way out of the dilemma, “Don’t
hurt me! He challenged me and I’m an only child.” John’s smile
faded as he watched Mulgrave beg. John’s amusement evaporated as he
felt an odd desire to ask his brothers to spare the rat any more
pain. At least Miss Lark was safe. He forgot about Mulgrave and
wallowed in the pleasure of feeling her softness pressed against
him secured by his arm around her middle.

“We understand
John challenged you after you insulted our Mamma. Perhaps you’d
like to explain your unkind words to her new husband? Belvedere, do
you have any displeasure to impress upon this man?”

“Belvedere?”
Mulgrave’s terror suddenly gave way to sobs.

John felt his
body jerk with shock as his eyes swivelled to the door. He hadn’t
noticed the silent plain man with grey hair hovering just outside
the room. He watched as his new stepfather calmly walked over to
the group and looked down with distaste. “Your mother would be most
displeased to hear what you’ve been up to Mulgrave.”

“No…don’t tell
Mother…she’ll cut me off. Have pity!”

“Yes, her nice
fat purse will snap shut and you’ll find yourself unable to pay
your debts. Perchance your mother proves lenient; I may tell our
decrepit virtuous Aunt Mary and her mountain of gold about your
sinful activities. She might even decide once and for all to leave
her money to me. You’d best leave my wife and her family alone or
you’ll be living in a debtor’s cell with numerous injuries and no
money for a doctor. If you’re really unlucky you may even die of
gangrene. I understand it’s a painful protracted death. Leave the
Smirkes and their dependents alone.” The Smirkes looked from the
sobbing man covered in blood to the quiet standing man in
shock.

“You’re
related to this rat?”

“Our mother’s
are sisters.”

“I pity any
woman who has to c-c-claim that rat as her offspring.” Mulgrave was
dropped to the floor and forgotten as the group turned their
attention to the couple near the wall. Peter rubbed his hands in
satisfaction, “Cosmo, Cecil p-picked up the d-dress; he can hand it
to Miss Lark. Let’s g-go find John’s clothes while he proposes a
change of situation with his ward. Don’t look at me like that John;
the girl’s reputation became mud the m-minute she entered your
life. You’d best start cleaning up. George, g-grab Mulgrave by the
heels, our John needs some privacy.” Peter winked again at his pink
faced brother and herded the family out of the room. “Be careful
George, we wouldn’t w-want to injure Mulgrave…”

Let go of my
legs. Don’t hurt me…” Mulgrave’s head could be heard bouncing off
every uneven floorboard.

“Cosmo, stop
p-pummelling Charles and go find Robert.”

Joan listened
to the muffled voices fade behind the closed door before looking
up, “I don’t want you to offer out of obligation Mr Smirke…that’s
so unromantic…”

“Get your
dress on.”

“I can’t…not
until you let go of me.” John reluctantly released her and watched
as she pulled on black silk, straightened her skirts and covered up
flawless skin. He didn’t want her to put her dress back on. He
wanted to… “Is your chest in much pain? I brought your ointment. I
wasn’t sure what you’d need. Are you hungry? I took some biscuits
from your room. What’s wrong? Are you mad at me? Oh!” Joan was
suddenly pulled back into John’s warmth. “Does this mean you don’t
want a biscuit?” She smiled as his black inched closer. “Are you
going to kiss me Mr Smirke?”

“Yes.”

“Oh good, I
was afraid you’d never…” Five minutes later a knock on the door
wrenched John from an intoxicating haze induced by innocent adoring
lips.

“We found your
c-clothes; you have t-two minutes. George, you’re eighteen, men
don’t pick their noses in p-public.”

“That was
delicious; can I have another one Mr Smirke?”

“We’re getting
married.”

“I thought you
said…”

“When you said
you’d accept Peter just to vex me I…”

“Lost your
composure?”

“I was…”

“Jealous?”

“I can speak
for myself woman. I need to make you my wife before I explode.”

“Can we travel
to Gretna Green? Being married over an anvil sounds so
romantic.”

“I refuse to
be jostled and frozen to death to hear a hammer strike an anvil.
Besides, if it snows we might as well read the banns and I refuse
to read the poxy banns. We’ll ride to Bristol, buy a common license
and ride back to Bath. We’ll be married before noon tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t
sound very romantic.”

“Never mind
romance, I need you as my wife.”

“Romance is
the salt of life. Do you promise not to say beastly horrid
things?”

“I’ll try; I
know I’m not very good at being kind; how the blazes does anyone
reach sainthood? It’s cursed hard!”

“Do I get
another kiss Saint Smirke or do I have to bribe you?” John’s
insides flip-flopped as he bent over to devour her smile.

“Times
up!”

“You could
have knocked.” John’s red cheeks were highlighted by Joan’s black
sleeves wrapped around his neck.

“And wait
t-till d-dark while you express your f-finer feelings? Robert…don’t
kick your brother, he’s b-bigger than you.”

James smiled
at John’s embarrassed growl, “Your clothes…” A bundle was hurled at
them from the door. “Miss Lark can assist you. Hurry up; Mamma and
Agnes will be worried we’re all dead.”

“Mamma’s in
Bath?”

“Of course
she’s in Bath. Belvedere’s not going to visit us on his own silly.”
John couldn’t get his boots on fast enough.

Lady Jemima
stood up as her family tumbled into the room uninjured. “Mamma?”
Her relief was overshadowed by shock as a doppelganger of her dead
husband rushed to embrace her. Her youngest son had never looked so
much like his father. Her heart shuddered as he took her in his
arms and held her close. After nearly thirty years the ache was
still there. She mentally picked up the feeling and locked it
away.