Son of a Duke (25 page)

"I beg your pardon?"

"I am an orphan.
 
A whore's accident."
 
Sarah swallowed with difficulty.
 
"The offspring of whores do not marry earls."
 

"Why not?" Nora asked.
 
She, of course, knew exactly what Sarah meant, but she wanted to hear Sarah say it.
 

"They just do not," she said, standing up to pace.

Nora watched her make a few passes before speaking again.

"Why do you think that?"

Sarah did not stop to answer.
 
"I just know it.
 
It is what everyone tells you everyday while you survive on porridge and Bible verses."

Nora did not know what to make of that statement, but for some odd reason, she thought she could relate.

Nora said, "And you think everyone else is right?"

Sarah did stop now and faced Nora.
 
"Everyone is right on this."

"I do not think so," Nora said, and stood herself, walking over to Sarah.
 
"I think you need to tell him."

"Tell him?" Sarah asked, backing warily away.
 

"You need to tell your husband that you love him."
 

Sarah turned her back and walked to the other end of the room.
 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Quinton, but I do not believe it is your place to give me advice regarding my relationship with my husband."

Nora swallowed, feeling a slight touch of misgiving creep up her spine.
 

"Oh, but someone must give you advice, darling, before you are both dead and unable to tell each other how you really feel."

Nora and Sarah both looked at the door where Jane stood on the arm of the Duke of Lofton.
 
Nora looked back at Sarah in time to see the other woman's face go instantly red.
 

"I do not believe I understand what you are speaking of," she said, hurrying to sit in a chair clearly so she could face the empty fireplace instead of the rest of the occupants in the room.
 

This time the Duke of Lofton spoke.
 

"We all know you two love each other.
 
Why you cannot get along is anyone's guess, but it would help smooth the waters between our little group if you two would just get over it already.
 
Love happens.
 
You can deal with it.
 
We all do."

Nora was surprised by the boldness of his words, but why she had expected anything different from a duke she did not know.
 
The matter was quite simple.
 
Sarah was in love with her husband but for some reason was unable to express it, which led to the situation the two were currently in.
 
A kind of truce that was not all that pleasant for the people around them.
 

But Sarah continued to evade.
 

"I believe the relationship between Alec Black, the Earl of Stryden, and myself is one of the strictest professionalism-"

"Oh, please, darling, you are fooling no one.
 
But if this is the line you are going to carry, I shall not be bothered with it," Jane said, leaving Richard at the door as she swept into the room, taking a seat on the sofa before the vacant fireplace.
 
"We have much more important matters to discuss at this moment."
 
Jane busied herself with the tea things that littered the small table in the middle of the seating arrangement before looking at Nora.
 
"Such as what on earth are you going to do when this is all over, Miss Quinton?"

Nora swallowed, no answer coming to her mind.
 

~

Nathan avoided two more prostitutes, a man who mistook him for a prostitute, and two pickpockets.
 
He found the stairs in the back, covered by a worn, red velvet curtain on gold hoops.
 
He pushed the curtain aside and tried the first step.
 
The board sagged dangerously but did not snap in two.
 
Taking that as a good sign, Nathan deftly climbed the stairs avoiding ominous stains and obvious holes in the wood.
 

The second floor smelled worst than the first.
 
Nathan covered his mouth with his hand and willed his stomach to settle.
 
A breeze twisted sneakily around his face, and he looked into the dimness to find its source.
 
An open window was just to the left.
 
Nathan dove for it, sticking his head into the darkening evening sky and sucked in gulps of breath.
 

He really wanted a bath.
 

Alec was going to have to burn his clothes.
 

The door behind him opened, and Nathan spun around.
 
A guttersnipe staggered out and right into Nathan.
 
Nathan pushed him off before toppling through the window.
 
He looked back out the window to the ground below.
 
A large pile of garbage was just below the window, which wouldn't have hurt had he actually fallen out.
 
But there were rotting wooden crates just to the left that would have hurt very much.
 
Nathan looked away.
 

A woman had appeared in the open doorway.
 

"Are ye next then?"

Nathan felt his stomach heave again.
 

"No, ma'am, I am not."
 
He bowed to her and went to move away.
 

"Who are ye callin' 'ma'am,' ye snobby cad!"
 
She began to move out of the doorway, swinging her large, unrestrained bosom at him.
 
Nathan feinted to his right.
 
Then someone grabbed him, and a door suddenly shut in his face.
 

Nathan spun around, and Samuel was grinning at him.

"What?" Nathan asked.
 

"You look silly dressed like that."
 
Samuel pointed at his garb.
 

"I suppose I do," he said, then stepped forward and scooped the boy up, pressing him tightly against him.
 

He felt Samuel stiffen slightly before relaxing.
 
The boy did not embrace Nathan in return, but he did not push him away.
 

So Nathan held on.
 

Eventually Alec cleared his throat.
 
"Did that seem too easy to anyone else?"
 

"They wanted it that way," Samuel said, his voice muffled against Nathan's shoulder.
 

Nathan reluctantly set him down.
 

"I was just a tool to get all of your attention," he said, straightening his shirt carefully.
 

"I was told to stay out of it," Nathan said.
 

"I know you were.
 
That was a trick."
 

Nathan frowned.
 
"Fabulous."

"Perhaps we should get out of here first.
 
Discuss later."
 
Alec went to the door and popped his head into the hallway.
 

Nathan studied Samuel.
 
"Are you all right?"
 

Samuel nodded.
 
"Are you?"

Nathan nodded.
 

"Let's go," Alec said.
 

Nathan steered Samuel out first.
 

"Does anyone know how we get out of here?" Samuel asked.
 

"The back door?" Alec offered.
 

"Where is the back door?" Samuel asked.
 

Alec stopped, and Samuel walked into him.
 

Nathan looked up.
 
Two beasts loomed at the other end of the hall.
 
Nathan had to look up to see their faces, surrounded by greasy beards filled with food particles.
 
They had their fists clenched, their fat hands looking like small roasts at the end of logs.
 
Nathan stepped in front of Samuel.

"Which one of ye called me woman 'ma'am'?" one of the beasts spoke.
 

"He did."
 
Alec pointed at Nathan without hesitation.
 

Nathan was still dressed as a gentleman, which did not work in his favor at all.
 
One of the beasts stepped forward.
 

Nathan spun and grabbed Samuel.
 

"Pardon me, mate," he said and tossed Samuel out the window.
 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Samuel had never been thrown out of a window.

And he definitely had never been thrown into a pile of garbage.
 

His fingers squished into what had probably been a meat pie and maybe some neeps and tatties.
 
He pulled his hand away and slid down the pile of muck.
 

His shoes hit the cobblestone sending sharp staccatos ricocheting down the alley.
 
He turned around and looked up at the window.
 
He could not see anything.
 
And worse he could not hear anything.
 

Samuel began to worry.
 

It was full dark now, and he shivered in his thin shirt and short pants.
 
He backed up against the building opposite The Four of Clubs.
 
He still could not see into the window, and there was no sound to tell him what was happening.
 
He squatted against the building, trying to absorb some heat from the bricks and waited.
 

Samuel froze there, squatting by the gaming hell and waiting.
 

And Alec and Nathan still had not come out of The Four of Clubs.
 

He had to think.
 
Panic was not going to help.
 
He had to move, or he would be a block of ice in no time.
 
So he stood, running his hands down his legs to work some initial circulation back into them.
 
He walked around the back of the building, side to side.

There was no back door.
 
A single basement window was caked solidly with grime.
 
There were no first floor windows at the rear or back half of the sides of the building.
 
There was only the second floor window from which he had been thrown.
 

He could go for help.
 
Except he did not know where he was.
 
He could hail a hack.
 
But he doubted a hack would stop for a nine-year-old boy who looked like he had just rolled in the garbage because he had just rolled in the garbage.
 

He must go in the front door.
 
He had to find Nathan and his brother.
 
They were here for him, so it was up to him to find them.
 

Samuel squeezed between the buildings and watched the front door of The Four of Clubs from the alley.
 
Two gentlemen in fine overcoats were going inside.
 
Samuel waited, watching the end of the street, waiting for just the right person to walk by.
 

Ten minutes later, that person did.
 
He was enormous and rolled more than walked down the street.
 
As he passed the alley, Samuel slipped out behind him, hoping the man did not smell him.
 
Then Samuel crossed his fingers hoping the man was going to The Four of Clubs.
 
His luck held, and the man pounded a jiggly fist on the door.
 
It creaked open, words were exchanged, and the man moved inside.
 
Samuel was right behind him and then darted to the side once he was in the smoke filled front hall of the hell.
 

The haze of smoke hung just above his head, making the way clear for him to move through the crowd.
 
He was almost through when someone grabbed his arm.
 
Samuel whirled with his fist up.
 
It was a boy smaller than he, so he dropped his fist immediately.
 

The boy snarled, showing stained teeth.
 
"This 'ere's me turf.
 
Ye best be stayin' out o' it."

Samuel tipped his head.
 
"I beg your pardon."
 

The boy snarled again and sauntered off, hitching up his baggy pants.
 
Samuel watched him go, feeling sad for the boy.
 
He turned back and continued to the far wall.
 
He found the stairs and ran up them, but the hallway was empty when he reached it.
 
New dark puddles were on the floor, looking suspiciously like blood.
 
Samuel hoped it was not Nathan's blood.
 

He went back down the stairs and ran along the length of the wall.
 
There was a small door beside the bar, but people were moving in and out, carrying trays of food.
 
He watched and studied their movement.
 
When there was a break, he dashed through the door.
 

And found the kitchens smelled worse than the garbage.
 

There were two large counters around which a skinny man cut slabs of meat.
 
There were others milling around with empty trays.
 
Everyone was talking at each other.
 
Samuel was not sure if anyone was listening.
 

There was a blackened doorway to the right, and Samuel edged toward it.
 
It was just a pantry stocked with smelly cheese.
 
Samuel eased back behind some bags of grain, watching the people grumbling about one thing or another.
 
And that was why he did not see the stairs before he fell down them.