Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero (23 page)

John uncovered
his face and glowered through wet black eyes, “Where is she?”

“Somewhere…I
could find her without much difficulty, if I had sufficient
reason.”

John forced
himself to swallow his wrath, “How much?”

“Come now
Smirke; I could buy you twenty times over. I don’t need money; I
need sufficient legal grounds to grant her my protection.”

“Legal
grounds? What are you talking about? Oh my head…I can’t
think…Peter?”

Lord Adderbury
stepped forward, his fists clenched, “John loves her; it’ll k-kill
him.”

“What’ll kill
me? What is the bastard talking about?”

“He wants you
to g-give him Joan.”

“I’ll suffer
eternal damnation before I abandon Joan on your pox ridden
mattress…”

“John.”
James’s arm tightened around his brother’s shoulders. “We’ll get
her back.”

“She’s mine,
she loves me!”

“Of course she
loves you, why wouldn’t she?”

Neilson
snorted his disgust, “Why wouldn’t she indeed? You will sign over
to me the legal guardianship of Miss Joan Lark or you will likely
never see her again because you’ll never find her without my
help.”

John could
feel his brothers’ comforting hands as Neilson’s words buzzed in
his ears like a swarm of blood sucking midges. “James, what did he
just say?”

“The bastard
wants legal guardianship of Joan.”

“Never!” The
single word bounced off the high ceilings in painful disbelief.

“It’s not a
difficult choice Smirke. Give me the girl’s guardianship or she’ll
remain in the hands of her kidnappers. If my sources are correct,
they hate you and wish you to suffer; who doesn’t? She’s such a
pretty little thing. Are you sure she’s a Lark? She looks like a
Grayson to me. I’d wager my wallet Mr Lark was saddled with a
Grayson bastard. I hope her kidnappers don’t see it out or they
might approach Lyndhurst. He’s been acting strange of late. I
wouldn’t want any bird I cared about ending up caged by
Lyndhurst…would you?” Smirke could only gargle his horror. “For all
we know they may be ravishing her as we speak.” Neilson felt
prickles of doubt as John Smirke clutched his chest and broke down
sobbing over the desk; snot dripped from his nose and mingled with
shimmering pools of tears on the desk. Neilson grimaced in disgust.
No self respecting villain would allow his mother to see him in
such a state much less his enemy unless… Neilson had another awful
thought press into his brain, what if John Smirke really was in
love? What if the devil and the harpy really loved each other?
Neilson felt a momentary panic before brushing aside the ridiculous
thought. John Smirke could not possibly be in love. “The longer you
take to give me the paperwork, the more likely it becomes.”

John shook his
head as his heart cracked, “God, tell me he’s lying.”

Neilson’s calm
smile imperceptibly wavered, “Perhaps I am, perhaps I’m not; it
doesn’t matter. Give me her guardianship and I’ll rescue her. If
I’m feeling generous I may even allow you to see her chaperoned at
Christmas…for a few minutes.” John’s head smacked the desk as he
doubled over in pain, clawing at the ache in his chest. There was
only one balm for his wound and she was somewhere suffering for his
sins. As much as he longed to hold Joan, he was even more desperate
to know she was safe. “Have pity Neilson; I can’t give her up, I
need her…I love her…Peter, I don’t want to love if it feels like
this. Take it away…this is worse than Hell!”

“Love is only
hell at the b-beginning…and the end.”

Neilson
politely clapped as if he’d just sat through a boring afternoon
matinee, “Bravo Smirkes. I didn’t know you were a thespian family.
If you lose your fortunes you could walk the boards together. I’d
pay to see it.”

James handed
his clean handkerchief to his little brother and fingered his
pistol, “If John says he’s in love, he’s in love. You, on the other
hand wouldn’t know love if it kicked you in the rump.”

“And you dear
Cousin, would believe your brother if he told you he could cough up
gold coins.”

James eyes
narrowed at the insult to his intelligence and took in Neilson’s
bandaged hand, “Your household appears to have a hand wound
epidemic. I don’t suppose you’d admit to having wrestled a toothy
lark today?”

Neilson didn’t
hesitate with a lie, “I bought a bitch this morning. She’s in want
of training.”

“You bought a
bitch? I thought you hated dogs almost as much as you hate
hunting.”

“She was going
to be put down. You know how I enjoy saving a damsel in
distress.”

“Your swollen
eye looks rather painful; did the bitch claw your eyes when you
tried to pet her?”

“As a matter
of course one of my servants drank half my cellar and then poked me
in the eye. I wish to return to my bed.” Neilson stood up, “You
have a week to bring me what I want or be damned along with the
girl.”

“You can’t do
this…Joan loves me! You can’t separate us because you hate me.”

“The fact your
ward has poor taste and little judgement is not my concern, good
day gentlemen.”

John wiped his
nose on his sleeve and snarled at his smiling host, “I know you
have Joan. Give her back or you’ll regret it.”

“Take your
snotty little brother home and impress upon him that it doesn’t
matter if I have her or not. I have money and royal friends enough
to ensure he suffers.”

John turned on
his heel and jogged out of the room and towards the elegant stairs,
“Joan!”

“Someone stop
him.”

“Joooaaan!”
The desperate word thundered past unfriendly servants blocking
John’s path. “Joan Lark? Can you hear me? I’m coming…get off me…no,
don’t touch me. Joan!” John tried to climb over the servants, but
was dragged back down the stairs and roughly pushed out the front
door into Peter’s arms. “Why is this happening to me? I’m being
good. I shouldn’t have to feel like this…”

“At least your
Joan is alive. We need to think what to do next.”

John’s wild
eyes rolled up at his brother, “How am I supposed to think? I don’t
even know what street I’m on. What if he ships her out of the
country just to spite me? I’ll never see her again…Heaven help me,
I can’t even bear the thought…I think I’m going to die…”

Peter handed
his brother his last clean handkerchief, “Wipe your nose. We’ll
think of something. We’ll find her and then we’ll p-pummel that
heartless p-prat.”

***

Robert Neilson
tenderly prodded his sore nose with his good hand and cursed all
Smirkes to hell as he reluctantly ventured up stairs to visit the
sharp toothed harpy. It was imperative he convince his future ward
that the pretty blonde villain was never going to rescue her.
Neilson wrapped on the door, “Miss Lark?” There was no reply. He
grimaced at the keyhole; she was probably standing nearby waiting
to hit him over the head with the fire poker…had they remembered to
remove it? “Miss Lark I need to speak with you. Have you put that
dress on? I don’t have all day, just answer me.” He couldn’t see
Joan stick her tongue out at the door, but he heard a distant crash
that sounded ominously like breaking ceramics. He turned the key
and cautiously opened the door. “Why aren’t you wearing the
dress?”

“It stinks
like your house. I’d rather freeze than smell like you.” Framed by
the naked open window; Joan picked up the two matching black
Japanese vases with cloisonné goldfish at her feet and waved them
over her head before tossing them out the window. Neilson gurgled
in fury as he ogled his delftware collection standing on the window
ledge awaiting execution.

“Don’t you
dare break those!” Half way across the room, most of his
seventeenth century Dutch figurines painted blue and yellow over
white had been sent to their deaths. “No. Not the Charles spaniel,
it’s a family heirloom.”

“Too bad, I
hate yellow.” Joan grabbed the large rare yellow delftware spaniel,
a gift to the Neilson family by Charles II, and flung it out the
window.

“You hellish
harpy…no, not my favourite milkmaid…”

“You mean you
don’t want this pretty little girl to fall out the window? Oops…I
guess she couldn’t live with her lover…her heart was broken, like
his head.”

Neilson
grabbed Joan with his good hand, “Those were irreplaceable.”

“So was the
last hour of my life.”

“Have you any
idea what you’ve just done? I bought those vases in Japan, they
were made for an emperor.”

“They were
exquisite. I nearly decided not to break them, but then I thought
how you’d never get to see them again and then I thought…if I never
get to see my Mr Smirke, then you won’t ever get to see your pretty
vases and all the other stuff…” Neilson looked around the room,
enraged as he mentally tried to count up the missing items.

“How could
you?”

“I’m sure it
was as easy as kidnapping a blushing bride.”

“I didn’t
kidnap you, I saved you.”

“Saved me for
what? Shall I dance and twirl for you like a puppet? Shall you call
me down from my solitary confinement to sing you a song for my
supper when you’re feeling generous?”

“Stop talking
and put on the dress. You’re going to be my ward and you’re going
to like it.”

“Never!”

“Put it
on.”

“I’d rather
die than have the stink of your house touching my skin.”

“Put it on or
I’ll put it on you.”

“Fine…put it
on me. The minute you walk out of the room I’ll take it off, tear
it to shreds and throw it out the window.”

“Just put it
and wear it or else…”

“Or else what,
you’ll beat an innocent woman? It’s just gone eleven; I should be
married to Mr Smirke. I should be in his arms enjoying his kisses,
but I’m locked up like a criminal by a great ugly lump.”

“Just do as
you’re told and put it on before I forget I’m a gentleman.”
Neilson’s angry roar was ineffectual in persuading Joan to do his
bidding. Her answer was to bite his good hand drawing blood. “You
blasted shrew…I’m trying to save you. Ahhhh…stop biting me!”

“Let me go and
I’ll never bite you again. I want Mr Smirke.”

“You want to
dance with the devil? I’ll show you how he dances…” Joan screamed
as she was pushed to the floor and pinned down under Neilson’s
weight. “Are you afraid? You should be. If only half the rumours
are true about your beloved Mr Smirke, you should be
terrified.”

“Help! Someone
help me!”

“I am helping
you. If you promise to stop acting like a hoyden I can give you a
home, money, clothes…” Neilson panted in between words as he
struggled to keep her down.

“Get off
me…let go of me.”

Looking down
at writhing porcelain flesh, Neilson was suddenly absorbed in
ungentlemanly thoughts, his body throbbing with excitement. The
vile John Smirke could never engender besotted devotion; the girl
was clearly playing hard to get. “Relax; I’m not going to hurt
you…” He swallowed his common sense and leant over to kiss her.
Distracted by flawless skin he loosened his grip. Joan wrenched a
hand free and shoved two fingers deep up his sore nose and then
stabbed at his sore eye. She rolled free as Neilson jerked up onto
one knee, roaring in pain as a puddle of blood formed on the
parquet floor.

“What have you
done to me?” Joan ignored Neilson’s question and crawled towards
the closest object she could turn into a weapon; a glass vase she’d
considered far too pretty to throw out the window. She retreated to
a corner of the room behind a chair holding glass shards to use as
knives. If the giant came near her again, he’d be nursing more than
a bloody nose and a sore eye.

Neilson bent
forward; the pain in his nasal cavity almost bearable compared to
the agonising realization that he’d nearly ravished an innocent
girl, a girl he’d tried to save from a devil. The thought made his
stomach heave. He was the hero not the villain. He pummelled men
who hurt women. The sounds of Joan sobbing for her beloved Smirke
in between angry ear splitting screams made him feel sick. When had
he become a monster? The question didn’t bear answering. He had to
get rid of the girl as soon as possible, if only to ease his
self-disgust. He stumbled from the room leaving the door wide open
behind him. A trail of blood followed him past white faced servants
to his study where he fell into his chair. Neilson’s hand shook as
he dipped his pen in his ink well. He’d throw her back into
Smirke’s arms before the devil came to his senses and decided he
didn’t want the harpy. He didn’t get farther than the first word
before a wave of guilt paralysed him.

The carriage
carrying the three Smirke brothers was half way back to James’s
house when John uncovered his wet eyes with his sleeve to wipe his
nose and found his Probationary Agent sitting opposite with an
expression that filled John’s mind with fear, “What’s happened?
Something’s happened…tell me!”

James and
Peter looked at each other and then at their little brother
apparently addressing the empty corner of the carriage, “We’ve got
to find that girl before John loses all reason. I can’t bear to see
him talking to himself. It makes the hair on my neck stand on
end.”

“Say something
you wretch. You can’t just sit there and look at me like that. Is
something wrong with my Joan?”

“I can’t tell
you, but if she were my wife I’d be loading my pistol.”

John leapt off
his seat and hammered on the roof, “Turn this thing around. Take me
back. Oh God please help me…Joan!”

James and
Peter looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders before
James let down the window and shouted to the driver, “Take us back
to Neilson’s, my brother forgot something.”

“Sit down
John, overturning the carriage will only get us killed faster.”