Gentle Rogue
Page 41

Anthony turned to James for confirmation of this interesting idea, but all he got was a scoffing snort and a scowl.
* * *
As the Malory brothers were picking up their cards to continue the game, Georgina was slipping out the backdoor to stumble her way across backyards and alleys to Park Lane, where after an anxious fifteen-minute wait, she was able to hail a passing hack to take her to the London docks. Unfortunately, she'd already been let off and the hack gone before she belatedly recalled something she'd learned on her first trip to England. London, reputedly the largest commercial and shipping center in the world, didn't have just one dock. There was the London Dock at Wap-ping, the East India at Blackwall, Hermitage Dock, Shadwell Dock—and those were just a few of them that spread for miles along the Thames, and on both the south bank of the river and the north.
How the devil was she supposed to find a ship or two—and it was doubtful that her brothers would have brought more than that to England, knowing the berthing difficulties—this late at night, when most of the docks were locked up behind their high, protective walls? The best she could hope to do was some questioning, and that would have to be done on the wharves where incoming sailors would be found.
More specifically, in the waterfront taverns along the quay.
She had to be crazy to even consider it. No, just exceedingly angry. What other choice did she have when James was being so ridiculously unreasonable? He wouldn't even let her out of the blasted house!
And although she would rather try and locate her brothers during the day, when the area she was now in could be considered safer, she knew she'd never make it out of the townhouse undetected in the day, when there were so many servants and family about. And she was not going to let her brothers go home thinking she'd been done away with by the dastardly ex-pirate they'd married her to, simply because they'd been unable to find her.
But as she neared the area of the wharves where people were having rousing good times in whatever entertainments could be found late at night, her anger lessened in proportion to her rising nervousness.
She really shouldn't be here. She wasn't dressed appropriately for what she was considering, wearing one of Regina's lovely dresses with matching spencer, which did not keep out the cold at all. And she wasn't adept at questioning people. What she wouldn't give to have Mac with her just now. But he was an ocean away, and when she watched two drunks leave one tavern and get no more than ten feet away before starting a fight with each other, she concluded that she was crazy to have come down here.
She would just have to work on James some more to get him to change his mind. She had wiles, didn't she? All women were supposed to have them, and what good were they if she didn't use them?
Georgina turned to go back the way she'd come, which at the moment seemed the safer avenue, or at least the more quiet, when she spotted what looked like another hack at the other end of the street. But she'd have to pass two taverns competing in noise to get to it, one on either side of the street so that she'd actually have to pass in front of one or the other to reach the hack, and the doors of both happened to be open to allow the escape of smoke and to let cold air in to cool the customers. She hesitated, weighing the long walk down deserted streets just to get to an area where she might be able to find transportation back to the West End, against this dimly lit street—except directly in front of the taverns
where light blazed out— that was actually empty except for the two men now rolling on the ground in the middle of the street as they continued to pound on each other. A minute at a hurried pace and she'd be out of there, with nothing left to worry about except how she was going to get back into the house on Piccadilly undetected.
That settled it as far as she was concerned, and she set off at a brisk walk that picked up to a near run as she started to cross the front of the tavern on her right, since that one seemed to be a little less noisy.
Keeping her head averted toward the street, she slammed right into a solid chest and would have sent both her and the owner of that solid chest falling except for someone else quickly steadying them.
"I beg your pardon," she began quickly, only to feel arms come around her instead of setting her back as they should have done.
"Not at all, love," she heard a husky voice say with a good deal of enthusiasm. "You can run me down any time, indeed you can."
She didn't know whether to be grateful or not that those tones were cultured, but she was going to assume that this was a gentleman, even if he hadn't let go of her yet. And a glance up at a well-dressed chest confirmed it. But when her eyes reached the top of him, she was given pause. Big, blond, and handsome, the young man reminded her uncannily of her husband, except for the eyes, which were more hazel than green.
"Perhaps she'd like to join us," came another voice, slightly slurred.
Georgina glanced over to see the fellow who'd kept them from falling, doing a bit of swaying on his feet himself. A young gentlemen, too, and she guessed uncomfortably that they were rakehells out slumming.
"A splendid idea, Percy, damn me if it ain't," the blond one holding her agreed, and to her, "Would you, love? Like to join us, that is?"
"No," she said flatly and distinctly as she tried to push away from him. The chap wasn't letting go, though.
"Now don't be hasty in deciding," he cajoled her, and then, "Gad, you're a pretty thing. Whoever's keeping you, sweetheart, I'll top his price and then some, and make sure you never have to walk these streets again."
Georgina was too stunned by the proposition to reply immediately, giving someone else an opportunityto say behind her, "Good God, cousin, you're talking to a lady. Take a gander at them togs she's wearing if you doubt me."
Three of them, Georgina realized, not just two. She was getting really uneasy now, particularly since the big one she was pushing against still wouldn't release her.
"Don't be an ass, dear boy," he said dryly to their third companion. "Here? And alone?" Then to her, with a smile that would probably have worked magic on any other woman, because the fellow really was exceedingly handsome, "You're not a lady, are you, love? Please say you aren't?"
She almost laughed at that point. He was honest-to-God hoping she wasn't, and she was no longer the innocent to be left wondering why.
"Much as I hate to admit it, I do have a 'lady' tacked on in front of my name now, thanks to my recent marriage. But regardless, mister, I believe you've detained me long enough. Kindly let go . "
She'd said it firmly enough, but all he did was grin down at her in a maddening way. She was thinking about kicking him and then making a run for it when she heard a sharp intake of breath right behind her, and an incredulous voice.
"Hell's bells, Derek, I know that voice, damn me if I don't. If I'm not mistaken, that's your newest aunt you're trying to seduce."
"Very funny, Jeremy," Derek snorted.
"Jeremy?" Georgina twisted around, and sure enough, James's son was the one standing behind her.
"And my stepmother," the lad added, just before he started to laugh. "You're bloody well lucky you didn't try snatching a kiss from her like you did the last wench that caught your eye, cousin. My father would prob'ly kill you, if your father didn't beat him to it."
Georgina was released so fast, she stumbled. Three sets of hands immediately came up to steady her but dropped away just as quickly. For God's sake, if she was going to run in to family down here on the docks, why couldn't it have been hers instead of James's?
Derek Malory, Jason's only son and heir, was scowling blackly now, and Jeremy had stopped laughing as he looked around for his father, didn't see him, and concluded correctly that she was there without him.
"Does this mean the chit ain't going to be joining us?" Percy wanted to know.
"Watch your mouth," Derek warned his friend in a growl. "The lady is James Malory's wife."
"You mean the chap who nearly killed my friend Nick? Gad, you are done for, ain't you, Malory, trespassing with his—"
"Shut up, Percy, you ass. The lad told you she's my aunt."
"Beg to differ," Percy replied indignantly. "He told you. He did not tell me."
"Well, you know James is my uncle. He's not going to— Oh, devil it, never mind." And then his scowl came back to Georgina. More and more, he was reminding her of James ten years younger, which was probably about how old Derek was. "I suppose I should apologize, Aunt . . . George, ain't it?"
"Georgie," she corrected, unable to fathom why he appeared so annoyed with her now, but his next words brought a little understanding.
"Can't say as I'm thrilled just now to welcome you to the family."
She blinked. "You're not?"
"No, I'm not, not when I'd much prefer we weren't related." And then he said to Jeremy, "Bloody, hell, where do my uncles find 'em?"
"Well, my father found this one in a tavern." Jeremy was frowning at her now, too, but she quickly realized his anger was merely on his father's behalf. "So I suppose it's not so strange, after all, seeing her down here."
"For God's sake, it's not what it looks like, Jeremy," she protested with a bit of her own annoyance surfacing. "Your father was being totally unreasonable in not allowing me to see my brothers."
"So you set out to find them for yourself?"
"Well . . . yes."
"Do you even know where to look for them?"
"Well . . . no."
To that he gave a disgusted snort. "Then I think we'd better take you home, don't you?"
She sighed. "I suppose, but I was on my way home, you know. I meant to hire that hack—"
"Which would've left you walking, since that's Derek's carriage, and his driver would've just ignored you
. . . unless of course you'd have given him your name, which you likely wouldn't've thought to do. Hell's bells, you're bloody lucky we found you . . . George."
Like father like son, she thought, gritting her teeth, and realizing, at that point, that there wouldn't be much hope now of getting back into the townhouse without James finding out about her little adventure, unless . . .
"I don't suppose you could refrain from mentioning this to your father?"
"No," he said simply.
Her teeth were really gnashing now. "You're a rotten stepson, Jeremy Malory."
And that amused the young scamp enough to bring back his laughter.
Chapter Forty-five
By the time Derek's carriage stopped in front of the townhouse on Piccadilly, Georgina wasn't just annoyed anymore with her escort, she was quite angry. Jeremy's humor had gotten thoroughly on her nerves, and his dire predictions of what she could expect from an enraged husband didn't help. Derek was still chagrined that he'd tried to seduce his own aunt, albeit unknowingly, and so his continued scowls weren't helping, either. And Percy, that half-wit, was simply too much to put up with at any time.
But she wasn't kidding herself. She knew very well that her anger now was more defensive than anything else, because despite the fact that James's stubbornness had driven her to that impulsive trip to the river, she knew she shouldn't have gone, and he really did have every right to be furious with her. And James angry, really angry, was nothing pleasant to deal with. Hadn't he nearly killed Warren with his bare hands? But to hear Jeremy tell it, that was nothing compared to what she could expect. It was understandable then that she might be feeling a good deal of trepidation, and understandable that she
might hide it under her own anger.
At any rate, she fully intended to march into that house and keep right on going, right up to her room.
Her rotten stepson could tattle on her to his heart's content, but she was going to be behind a barricaded door before her husband exploded with his reaction.
So she thought, but Jeremy had other ideas, and letting him lift her down from the carriage was her mistake. When she tried to brush past him to enter the house first, he caught her hand and wouldn't let go. And she might be older than he was, but there was no doubt that he was bigger, and stronger, and determined to lay her and her misdeeds right before James so she'd get her just desserts.
But they weren't in the house yet, though the door was already being opened by the ever-efficient Dobson. "Let go of me, Jeremy, before I clobber you," she whispered furiously at him while giving the butler a smile.
"Now is that any way for a mother to talk to her-"
"You wretched boy, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"
That question only got her a grin and a tug which brought her into the hall. It was empty, of course, except for Dobson, so there was still a chance. The stairs were right there. But Jeremy didn't waste a blasted second before calling for his father, quite cheerfully at the top of his lungs. And so Georgina didn't waste another second before she kicked him. Unfortunately, that only made him yell louder, not let her go, and, much worse, the parlor door was thrown open while she was in the process of kicking him again.
It was really too much, after a day fraught with so many disturbing emotions. James just had to be there, didn't he? He couldn't have discovered her missing and gone off to search for her, could he? No, he had to be there, right there, watching her trying to abuse his son. And were those brows of his drawing together in suspicion, as if he knew exactly why? And even with his father's presence, had Jeremy released her yet? No, he had not!