Tempting a Sinner (21 page)

“Yes.”

She looked as calm as he did, her normally expressive face reserved.

“Then we’d better make haste. We’ll need to go in disguise.”

“What do you want me to wear, my lord?”

He thought quickly about the clothes she had and dismissed them. “I want you to look like my mistress. There should be some items on the second floor that you can borrow. Consult with Maddon.”

“I’ll do that right now.”

“And don’t forget something to cover up your hair.”

She nodded, curtsied to the room in general, and went out. He was about to follow when Faith touched his arm.

“Benedict, before you go, I wanted to share something else with you.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“It depends on whether you want to catch our ambushers or not.”

Something in her tone made him sit down again. “What is it?”

“I’ve been reading Malinda’s mother’s journal, and it mentions the name of the nunnery where she left her daughter.”

“So?”

“I asked Nicodemus if he could find out anything about it. He says it was an extremely well-protected and expensive place to stay.”

“I gathered that from the way Malinda was transformed from a hoyden into a lady there.”

“But how did Mrs. Rowland, or Mrs. Makethorpe as she became known, afford that?”

“I believe it was a combination of the pension my father sent her, and my contributions.”

“From what Nico tells me, I still doubt she could’ve afforded the place.”

Nicodemus nodded in agreement.

“Maybe they took pity on her and let her stay for a pittance?” Benedict suggested. “Or perhaps when the war engulfed them, they had no choice but to keep the girls until someone chose to return for them?”

Faith looked unconvinced.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it doesn’t quite fit with everything else.”

He held her gaze. “No, you’re right, it doesn’t. Do you want me to give my permission to Nicodemus to investigate further?”

“If you would.”

He turned to the investigator, who had been listening quietly to the conversation. “Please go ahead and find out anything you can.”

Nicodemus bowed.

“Thank you, Benedict.” Faith patted his hand.

“Now, is there anything else before I go and brave the delights of the Red Dragon?”

“Are you speaking about your wife or the inn?” Adam murmured.

Benedict smiled and went to the door. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure.”

“Will this do?”

Benedict’s face was enough to convince her that she’d perhaps gone too far in her efforts to look like a man’s mistress. She attempted to pull up the low purple-striped satin bodice to a more decorous level.

“No, you look perfect. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

She touched her hair. “It’s the blond wig, isn’t it? I must confess that I hardly recognized myself when I first put it on.”

“Let me just finish dressing and we can go.”

He’d changed into a flashier suit of clothing that shouted new money and padded out his normally slender frame until he had a distinct potbelly. He was currently engaged in dousing his blond hair in white powder and pomade, making him look twenty years older. A pair of spectacles completed his disguise. He turned to her and bowed.

“Ma’am?”

Even his body seemed different, his posture less certain, his shoulders hunched over, and his demeanor that of an aging roué.

“What shall I call you?”

“Darling, sweetings? Mr. Ludlow?”

“I assume I’m not
Mrs.
Ludlow.”

“No, she is a dour-faced churchgoing Methodist from up north. You, my dear, are Clarabelle Evans, my current mistress.”

“Clarabelle?”

“It’s your stage name and that’s where I met you. You used to be a dancer in one of the musical shows.”

“Oh.” She took his arm and they proceeded down the backstairs. A hired carriage awaited them in the street. When Malinda stepped inside, she was greeted by the sound of excited yapping somewhere within a sea of parcels and bandboxes.

“What is that?”

Benedict groaned. “It’s probably one of Faith’s annoying little dogs.”

Malinda found a small, white fluffy dog on one of the seats and held him in her arms. “He’s adorable.”

“He’s a combination of a feather duster and a rat.”

“And is just the sort of dog a woman of ill repute would love.”

“You may bring him as long as you promise to be responsible for him.”

“I will be.” Malinda buried her face in the pup’s soft fur. “I miss my dogs terribly.”

He took the seat opposite her. “I’ve never owned a dog.” He half-smiled. “I’ve never settled long enough anywhere to actually have one of my own. It didn’t seem fair.”

Malinda looked up at him and reminded herself not to be anything less than professional.

“What exactly are we looking for at the inn?”

“The man Nicodemus described and anyone else who looks familiar.” He hesitated. “I would appreciate it if you took your cues from me.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.” He looked out of the small window. “We should be there fairly quickly.”

“Good.”

She repressed a sigh and turned to admire the view from her own window. They were being excruciatingly polite to each other and she hated it. The carriage started to slow and made a left turn. The line of modest town houses disappeared, leaving more irregular timber buildings along the sides of the narrowing road. A blaze of light and a red dragon of Wales sign heralded the appearance of the coaching inn.

Benedict took her hand as their carriage turned in to the coaching yard.

“Ready, love?”

She fixed a smile on her face and waited for him to open the door and help her down. Dodging the stable hands who were already dealing with the horses, they approached the main door of the inn. Before her eyes Benedict turned into an elderly roué strolling along with his latest ladybird proudly on his arm.

“I say, landlord!”

Even his voice was different, higher pitched, more anxious, and yet full of overbearing conceit.

“Yes, sir, how can I help you this fine evening?”

“Dinner for myself and the lady.” Malinda giggled when the landlord looked at her. “In a private parlor.”

“Of course, sir. If you’ll just step this way.”

“Oh, Mr. Ludlow, you are so fancy! A private parlor? I’d be quite happy to sit down and eat with all the common folk.” She winked at the landlord.

“And have them ogling you all night, my love? I don’t think so.”

She pouted. “We must make sure that Mr. Feathers gets something special to eat too. You know how sensitive his little tummy is.”

“All too well, my dear. Landlord, my lady’s little dog is in the carriage. Could you have someone bring him around to her?”

“Yes, sir.” The landlord looked around and beckoned to one of the harassed-looking serving girls. “Joan, go and fetch this lady’s dog, will you? And bring it back to parlor number three.”

“Oh, three is my favorite number,” breathed Malinda. “You know why, my little bunny, don’t you?” She kissed Benedict’s ear and whispered far too loudly, “Especially when I’m in the middle.”

The landlord’s ears went red as Benedict patted her bottom, and they followed him into one of the private parlors. When he’d left, Malinda sat down by the fire as Benedict closed the curtains and checked that the doors leading into the other parlors were firmly locked.

“We’re not going to see much trapped in here.”

“
You’re
not going to see much. I, however, can wander around and chat with the common folk at will.”

Why had he brought her if he didn’t intend to let her help? She compressed her lips into a straight line and said nothing. There was a knock on the door, and Joan appeared clutching the squirming little dog to her bosom.

“Here you are, miss.”

Malinda let out a shriek of joy and dropped to her knees. “Oh, look, it’s my precious, my darling little boy.” She scooped up the dog and kissed him. “Thank you, Joan.”

“You’re welcome, miss.”

Benedict pressed a coin into her hand, and Joan curtsied before she turned and left.

“Are we really going to eat here?” Malinda asked.

“Yes, and we’ll take our time doing so. I want to have a good look around.”

She picked up the little dog and settled in a chair by the fire. Benedict seemed unable to settle. She suspected he was finding it equally difficult being trapped in a room being polite to her. The quicker he went off exploring, the quicker she could get on with her own agenda.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of the landlord. “Dinner will be served in the next half hour, sir. I hope that is satisfactory.”

Benedict looked resigned and Malinda pouted.

“My fluffy bunny will be hungry.” She gazed at the landlord, but he was staring at her breasts. “Can’t we give him something before he fades away?”

“Maybe a bone from the kitchen, my dear?” Benedict inquired.

Malinda screeched with laughter that made both the men wince and danced over to Benedict.

“Not the doggie, bunny,
you!
” She kissed his cheek, leaving the imprint of her lip stain. “I know you’ll need your strength for later.” She winked at the landlord, who practically swallowed his tongue. “My sweeting needs red meat to keep up with me.”

“I’ll be fine, my dear.”

Malinda’s face fell, and she whispered loudly in Benedict’s ear, “But last time you only managed it three times, bunny, and you
know
that’s not enough for me.” She cast a sly glance at the landlord. “Unless you want to find reinforcements—isn’t your valet here yet, my love?”

“He’s—” Benedict suddenly turned to the landlord. “Be on your way, man! And bring me a jug of your best ale, and some ratafia for the lady.”

“No champagne?” Malinda’s lip wobbled. “Are you bored with me already?” Despite everything, she was beginning to enjoy herself.

Benedict patted her cheek. “Champagne if you have it, landlord. All shall be as my lady desires.”

Malinda gave another little squeal and wrapped her arms around Benedict. “Thank you, bunny. I
adore
you!”

“Yes, well.” Benedict extricated himself from her embrace and waved a hand at the landlord. “Off with you.”

The door had barely shut behind the landlord before Malinda collapsed laughing into the nearest chair. Benedict stared down at her, his expression inscrutable.

“I never realized you should’ve been on the stage.”

“With Ben, perhaps? We make a remarkably amusing pair.”

He finally smiled, and she grinned back at him.

“I’m going to wander out into the bar and see if I can find the man we’re after.”

“I’ll be here.” She cuddled the dog and kissed his adorable face.

He hesitated by the door. “You did agree to follow my lead in this situation.”

“I know.” She kept her tone light and nonconfrontational. “Good luck with your hunt.”

When Benedict returned a quarter of an hour later, Malinda was still sitting by the fire petting the dog and drinking a glass of what appeared to be champagne. He paused, both to admire the sight of her glorious bosom swelling over the nonexistent bodice of her gown and to accustom himself to the sight of her actually doing what he’d asked.

“Did you find him?”

“No.” Benedict sighed and dropped into the chair opposite hers. “I didn’t see anyone I recognized either.”

“Oh, dear.” She moved the sleeping dog to one side. “Joan said dinner was about to be brought in.”

He realized he was hungry. It was turning into yet another frustrating day. He couldn’t even find the energy to provoke Malinda into a fight, not that he intended to do that anyway. He was beyond such childish matters.

Malinda rose as the door opened and clapped her hands, waking up the dog, who jumped down on the floor and started barking.

“Dinner’s here, bunny!”

“So it is.” Benedict stayed out of the way as two serving men brought in a variety of dishes and set them on the table. At least the food looked edible. He held out a chair for Malinda and then sat himself. “May I help you to some lamb, my dear?”

Malinda ate well, throwing scraps to the little dog at every opportunity until he stopped looking for them and went and sat expectantly by the door.

“I think I need to take the dog outside.”

“I can do that.” Benedict was still eating, but he put his knife down.

“You’ll look silly holding a little dog, and we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, do we?”

“I think you’re the one who should be remembering that.”

“I’ll ask one of the serving maids to accompany me. Will that satisfy you?”

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming to find you.”

She slid out of her chair and raced over to the door, picking the dog up in her arms.

“Be careful.”

She went out into the corridor and walked toward the front of the inn, her gaze lingering on every face she encountered.

“May I help you, miss?”

It was Joan again. Malinda smiled at the girl. “Oh, yes please. I need to take my little doggie outside for a moment. Is there somewhere quiet where those big, beastly horses won’t trample him to death?”

“There’s a separate yard at the back. You can take him out there.”

“Thank you.”

“Follow me.”

From the set of Joan’s shoulders and the tone of her voice, Malinda guessed she didn’t approve of scantily clad women who arrived at inns on the arms of elderly gentlemen.

“Do you enjoy your work here, Joan?”

“It’s a respectable living, miss.”

Malinda tittered. “I can hardly say that about myself.”

“Each to their own. Our good Lord told us not to judge others.”

“Oh yes, Mary Magdalene and all that. I wonder if bunny would like it if I dried his feet with my hair?”

Joan made a snorting sound and Malinda bit her lip.

“Do you live here too?”

“Yes, miss. My father’s the landlord.”

Ah, she’d guessed right. Joan’s large nose was identical to her father’s.

“He owns the inn?”