Wedded in Sin (11 page)

He pulled it out and waved it at her face without really showing her the document. “Here’s the will.” He pointed to the bottom. “Here’s your father’s signature.” He pointed again. “Here’s my name. Makes me guardian of young Tommy. That means I control his money completely. Everything he owns goes through me and I’ll take care of him right and tight.”

She reached for the document, but he set it behind him on his desk. Then at an arch look from Samuel, he huffed, grabbed it again, and handed it over. To Samuel.

Men!

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would my father do this?”

“Well, somebody has to look after Tommy.”

She glared at the man. “I have been. Every night. Every day.”

The man had the grace to flush, but that didn’t stop him from softening his expression in the warmest, kindest way. It was startling really. She knew he was a scoundrel, possibly a murderer, and yet, he was also rather handsome in a fatherly kind of way.

“I know this is hard, Miss Shoemaker. You have been doing an excellent job of raising Tommy, but I was referring to his financial affairs. Even if you could manage to sort through the mess of documents…” He gestured behind him to the piles that she knew for a fact had nothing to do with Tommy. “You have enough to do with his daily care. This needs to be handled by a man who understands finances and the law.” Then he paused, tilting his head in the way a kindly uncle might. “Miss Shoemaker, don’t you remember me? Your father and I were friends. We used to meet at Bert Harvey’s pub, but surely you remember me.”

She did, now that she was looking at him. He’d come around the shop many times. Bought a pair of boots, but never paid, as she recalled. And yes, he and her father had seemed friendly enough. But then her father had been friends with anyone who might be a customer. Still, with all eyes on her, she was forced to nod. “I remember you,” she pushed through a constricted throat. “But I don’t remember anything about a will.”

“Well, not the thing to speak of to a delicate woman,” he said gently. “Talk of death is always upsetting to the fairer sex.”

Beside her, Samuel nodded. “This seems to be in order. Who are these gentlemen here? The witnesses? John Smithee and Thomas Baker.”

Penny wanted to know that, too. “I don’t know them.”

“Hmm? Oh, friends of your father’s,” Addicock answered. “This will was done at the pub, you know. And on a Sunday. Didn’t even want to come to the office. But it’s filed, you know. All legal like.”

Bollocks
, Penny snarled in her thoughts.

“So you never met them before?” Samuel pressed. Then he turned to the boy. “What about you, Ned? Ever seen them or heard of them before?”

Ned shook his head. “But I wouldn’t. Not if it were done at a pub.”

“Well, then I suppose all that’s left is to sort out the details of Miss Shoemaker’s monthly allowance and the delivery of cash from the sale of her home.”

Addicock jerked in what was obviously a practiced move. “What?” he gasped overly loud. Truly the man had
no
future on the stage. He was a terrible actor. “What sale?”

“A Mr. Cordwain appeared just this morning with armed men and the constable. He took possession of the Shoemaker store and all the property contained within. Had all the right documents with him.”

“Couldn’t have!” Addicock cried. “I never authorized such a sale.”

“He had all the correct documents. Both myself and the constable checked them.”

Addicock shifted behind his desk. Now that he was into his performance, he seemed to be moving more securely. His acting skills improved and Penny could almost believe he was outraged on her behalf. “Well, false documents can be hard to spot unless one is well trained. Bloody hell!” he cursed, then immediately looked up with a perfectly done rueful look. “Pardon me, miss. I am certain that everything can be sorted out right and tight and that villain Cordwain tossed in jail.”

Samuel nodded. “And what, may I inquire, can you do against a man like Cordwain?”

“Oh, many things, many things! Documents to file. Notices to be served. That sort of thing. All legal things, you understand. Never you fear, Miss Shoemaker. I’ll sort things out right away.”

She had to force herself to nod. She recognized a man who was lying through his teeth. Especially since he wasn’t doing anything with the papers on his desk but rearranging them. And surprise of surprises, one glance at Ned’s troubled face told her that he suspected something amiss as well.

“How?” she pressed, knowing that details were the best way to catch a liar. “How exactly, Mr. Addicock? And don’t say legal things. I need to know. That was my home!”

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Addicock soothed. “Of course you are upset. Ned, get the lady some water.”

Ned leaped up to do just that, but Penny kept her eyes trained on the solicitor. She wanted him to know she would not be distracted by a glass of water.

In the end, he sighed. “You see, Miss Shoemaker, the thing is that Mr. Cordwain may be our villain. Or he may have been duped by a canny thief who pretended to be me. It’s all very havy cavy, but I assure you, I shall sort it out.”

Samuel leaned forward. “And while you are sorting things out, you will need to provide funds for your charge to survive. Without their home, Tommy and Miss Shoemaker are on the streets.”

“Wot?” gaped Addicock.

“As Tommy’s legal guardian, you must provide for his well-being. I assure you, sleeping on the streets is not being well.”

“But there was no money in the estate. Only the shop and the like. And Cordwain stole that.” He turned to Penny. “Haven’t you a place to stay? A, um, gentleman’s home?” he asked as he glanced significantly at Samuel. “Just until things get sorted out.”

Penny stiffened. “What kind of woman do you take me for?”

Addicock gave her a sad look, as if he were a disappointed father. “My dear, I know all the details from your father. Perhaps you could stay with Tommy’s father?”

“Bloody hell,” she cursed as she pushed to her feet, but Samuel grabbed her hand to hold her still. And when he spoke, it was with freezing accents.

“Mr. Shoemaker was Tommy’s father.”

“Yes, yes, we all know he
claimed
that. Adopted his wife’s sister’s son, and no husband to be found. But…” His eyes slid to Penny. “The boy’s true parentage—”

“Is my aunt and her husband,” Penny snapped.

Addicock didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, especially as Ned had returned and pressed a glass of water into her hand. Penny glanced up to thank him, only to have the words die in her throat. Even the boy had changed how he looked at her. No more worship or sweet blushes. His gaze had turned almost dirty somehow because he assumed she was a tart.

It was all she could do not to throw the water back in his face. She sure as hell wasn’t going to drink it. So she set it back down—forcefully—on the desk. Then she pushed to her feet.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Addicock,” she said in freezing accents.

Samuel was on his feet as well, pushing forward to cut off her words. “You’re going to give her a hundred pounds to get through the month—”

“A hundred pounds! The devil—”

“And then you go to the constable immediately, showing the proper documents of your guardianship and demand that he look into this heinous fraud!”

Addicock leaned over his desk, his face florid and his handsome eyes narrowed in fury. “I haven’t bloody well got a hundred pounds! I haven’t even got the quid to pay Ned here and he’s a damn sight more useful than your Tommy!”

“Wot?” That came from Ned, the tone both surprised and indignant. And it was enough to recall Addicock to himself.

The man straightened his coat, tugging on the fabric in what was obviously a nervous habit. Then he spoke slowly and clearly, his eyes calm and his expression grim. “Guardianship of one Tommy Shoemaker has not brought me any money at all. There has been no income from the property; therefore, I have nothing to give Miss Shoemaker.” He turned to Penny, his expression cold. “I suggest you find a husband. Quickly. Or ply some other trade.” His tone left no doubt as to what trade he referred to.

She gasped, but Samuel tightened his hold on her arm, silently willing her to keep quiet. It was a near thing, but she obeyed. For the moment.

“But you will go to the constable to show proof of guardianship? And you will report this crime? This is what a
legal
guardian would do.”

Addicock released something between a growl and a grunt. As answers went, it meant nothing. Fortunately, Samuel wasn’t going to let the man get away with that.

“You know, I intend to stop by the constable’s this afternoon. Should I send him around to you? But of course, once here, he might take it into his head to look into more documents. As long as he’s here—”

“I said I’ll go to the constable. It’s what a guardian does, and I take my responsibilities seriously.”

Samuel gave a brusque nod, then turned to Penny with a smile. “Very well, Miss Shoemaker. I believe we are done here now.”

“What?” she gasped. “I have no home, no money, no—”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware. But these things take time, as I’m sure you know. Let Mr. Addicock do his job. He’ll get it all sorted out.”

“But—”

“Please,” he said, his expression congenial, but his eyes intense.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to choke Addicock with her bare hands. But she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, and so in the end, she spun on her heel and headed toward the door. Samuel followed at a slower pace, as if thinking of something.

“Oh, one more thing, Ned. I believe I know your aunt. Is it Mrs. Saynsberry? Husband owns a printing shop down by Picadilly Circus?”

The statement was so odd that it caused Penny to turn around. But her confusion was nothing compared to Ned and Addicock’s. They both stared at Samuel as if he were the daft toff she knew he was.

“Er, no, sir,” Ned answered. “My family’s the Wilkers. Live down in Shoreditch.”

“Of course they are! Now I remember. I saw one of your father’s plays once. Or read one. Or was it a poem?” Penny could tell he was guessing. Shoreditch was known for its writers and artists, and given that Ned was a clerk, it made sense that his father was a writer. But it was just a guess. Fortunately, given Ned’s surprised expression, she could tell that Samuel was right.

“Poem, sir. He’s had a few published.”

“That’s it. Excellent man, your father. I’m sure he’s right proud of you.”

Ned flushed, as all young men did when praised in so casual a fashion. Looking at it from outside the conversation, Penny could see the brilliance of her mad toff. If he’d been more earnest in his compliment, it would have been suspected as flattery. But spoken so offhand, and as he was reaching for his hat, no less, Samuel managed to both flatter the boy and make it sound completely genuine.

Not that she understood how flattering Ned and his father would get them anywhere. But she was working on trust—a very rare and surprising thing for her—so she kept silent. A moment later, she and Samuel were out the door and strolling steadily down the street.

“Well,” said Samuel with a hearty sigh, “I count that a good day’s work.”

“What?” She whipped around to glare at him, at last able to vent her spleen. “And what have we accomplished? I’ve still got no home, no money, and no bleeding shop!”

Samuel flashed her a grin. “But we do have a clue. A whole slew of them now, and the beginnings of a theory.”

“A theory! Oh,” she mocked, “the toff has a theory. Well, how is that going to feed me and Tommy? How will that get my shop back or—”

He held up a hand, and when that did not work, he pressed his fingers to her lips. She wanted to slap his hand away. She should have bitten off his fingertips. But what she did do was curse under her breath even as the press of his fingers against her mouth threw her thoughts into turmoil. It was bleeding cheeky of him to do it, and yet she liked the touch of his fingers on her lips. Then her mind flashed on the question of what it would be like to have his mouth on her lips. And if that weren’t startling enough, he then removed his hand and dropped a quick and startling kiss right on her mouth!

Then she did raise her hand to slap him. It was a normal reaction, more habit than thought. But he caught her wrist and held the hand away.

“I know that was terribly bad form for me. But we have made such progress and you did so splendidly, what with charming young Ned, that I couldn’t resist.”

“I am
not
a whore and I will
not
be spreading my—”

“A what? A what! Good God, did I offer to pay for that kiss? I’m sure I would have remembered it if I had.”

“I am
not
—”

“Yes, yes, I know you are not!” He glanced significantly around. More than a few people were looking at them curiously. “I was cheeky and rude. Pray let me apologize over luncheon. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Are you starving? Mind the pickpocket to your left. Let’s go to a place that has the most wonderful meat pies in London, shall we? It’s almost the perfect time.”

She frowned at him. “Luncheon was nearly two hours ago for most decent people.”

“Good thing I just proved I’m not decent. Come on, Penny. Do let me apologize.”

“What I want is—”

“An explanation. Of my theory. Well, yes, but that shall have to wait until we have full stomachs. Hard to appreciate my brilliance without food, you know.”

“But—”

“Pray say yes, Penny. It would be the decent thing to do.”

Would it? She wasn’t sure. But what she was sure of was that she wasn’t leaving this man’s side until he’d solved her problem. So that meant going with him to dine.

“Very well,” she said with a reluctant nod that was completely false. After all, she was starving.

“Excellent!” he cried as he hailed a cab.

And as she climbed in the dark interior of the carriage, she began to wonder exactly what she would do if he tried to kiss her again in this terribly dark and intimate space. She wasn’t exactly sure, and that thought bothered her as much as anything else that had happened this day.