Glory and the Master of Shadows, page 14
part #1 of Lady Charlotte’s Society of Angels Series
Glory chewed on her lip. “But an older brother or friend can also be protective, and I don’t want him to think of me that way.”
“How well I understand that dilemma,” Livy said with feeling.
“How did you convince His Grace to see you as a woman and not a sister or friend?” Glory wanted to know.
“We have circled back to the ‘other things’ category,” Fi said, giggling.
“You are familiar with those things as well, Fi,” Livy retorted.
“I’m not denying it,” Fi said blithely. “Just pointing out that seductive tactics can be an invaluable tool when one’s goal is gaining a gentleman’s attention.”
“And therein lies the problem.” Slumping against the seat, Glory blew out a breath. “I have no talent when it comes to seduction.”
“Surely you are underestimating yourself—” Livy began.
“I wish I were. I found Fi’s tips dreadfully confusing,” Glory admitted. “When I tried them, I felt silly and awkward and not like myself at all. I don’t know how to repose languidly. Or how to flirt and get a gentleman under my spell. Mr. Chen didn’t even seem to notice how I was dressed. Maybe he’s not attracted to me. Maybe he was using his commitments as an excuse. To let me down gently.”
“Or maybe you are going about this the wrong way,” Pippa said.
“How do you mean?”
“Forget about Fi’s tactics for the moment.” Pippa pursed her lips. “How do you feel in Mr. Chen’s presence?”
Giddy and hot. Damp in unmentionable places.
“Bothered.” Cheeks flushing, Glory amended, “In a good way, though. I cannot stop thinking about how much I admire him. Not just because he is handsome. I respect everything about him: his physical prowess, nobility, and integrity. He has such conviction and purpose.” Squirming a bit in her seat, she forced out the next words. “When I’m around him, I feel breathless and…um, tingly. All over. At the same time, I feel oddly tense, and I’m dying to know if he feels the same way about me. Am I…am I making any sense?”
“Yes,” her three friends said in unison.
“You are falling in love with Master Chen,” Pippa confirmed. “When Cull first came back into my life, I felt tense and tingly too.” Her blue eyes dreamy, she rubbed her rounded midsection. “I still do.”
Am I falling in love?
The answer prickled through Glory, the sensation like that of a foot that had fallen asleep but was now stirring. She knew she was attracted to him, but the truth was that her feelings ran deeper. Until now, she’d been an eccentric hoyden who hadn’t cared what gentlemen thought of her. Yet when it came to Mr. Chen, not only did she care…she cared deeply.
She wanted him to teach her about lovemaking, kung fu, and their shared heritage. She wanted to get through his reserve and earn his smiles and admiration. She wanted to know his innermost thoughts and help him in his quest, to be his companion through thick and thin…
“Zounds.” Dumbfounded, she looked at her friends. “I am falling in love with Mr. Chen. But what if…what if he has no interest in me?”
“There is only one way to find out,” Pippa said. “You must ask him.”
With a shiver, Glory said, “I cannot just ask him if he likes me.”
“Why not?” Livy tipped her head to one side. “You’re outspoken by nature. You always say what you mean, even when your view is unpopular. Your habit of being direct is part of your charm.”
“You told Lord Lyttle that his hair dye was leaking,” Fi added. “Not many people would have the courage or care enough to do that.”
“But this is different.” Glory knotted her fingers together, feeling how clammy her hands had gotten. “This would involve talking about my private feelings, and I am not good at that.”
What if I say what is in my heart, and Mr. Chen rejects me? What if my growing attachment scares him away? Wouldn’t it be better to have him as a friend and shifu than nothing at all?
“Being vulnerable is hard for all of us.” Pippa’s tone was gentle. “Which is why falling in love rarely goes smoothly. But sometimes not knowing is worse than the truth itself.”
“You’re right.” Glory took a breath. “I shall lay my cards on the table and ask him if he has any interest in me at all.”
“Hooray,” Fi and Livy cheered.
“Now that I’ve decided to have this conversation with him,” Glory said ruefully, “waiting until my lesson next week seems intolerable.”
“Then don’t wait,” Livy said. “Hadleigh is planning to visit the clinic tomorrow, and we shall pick you up on our way. We’ll be your chaperones whilst you and Mr. Chen have your tête-à-tête.”
With a heady mix of dread and anticipation, Glory nodded.
Mr. Devlin deposited the Angels in an alleyway close to their destination. The area was one of the worst rookeries in London. The dilapidated patch sat next to St. Saviour’s Dock, and as Glory hopped down from the carriage, she wrinkled her nose at the foul smells. Surrounded by tidal ditches, the area had been dubbed “the Venice of Drains,” with many buildings backing up against stagnant canals teeming with waste. Even though it hadn’t rained, the ground was soggy. Mud and heaven knew what else squished beneath Glory’s worn shoes.
“Ugh, it smells like a rubbish heap.” Fi grimaced. “I just got over my nausea.”
“Are you certain you don’t want to stay in the hackney with Pippa?” Glory asked.
Due to her advanced pregnancy, Pippa was on surveillance duty with Mr. Devlin. The pair would discreetly circle the environs while the other Angels searched the property. At any sign of trouble, Pippa would alert her fellow agents with a whistle that emitted a shrill and distinctive sound that resembled a bird’s call.
“I am not missing out,” Fi said firmly. “I want to have as much adventure as possible before I get as big as a house. No offense to Pippa.”
Pippa’s dry reply came from the carriage. “Why would I be offended to be likened to an edifice?”
“We’ll reconvene here in an hour,” Livy said to Mr. Devlin.
“If you’re late, I’ll be chargin’ you for me time,” he grumbled.
Glory admired the way he stayed in character; it reminded her to readjust her tatty apron and make sure her wig was in place. After he and Pippa drove off, the remaining trio headed to their destination. Dusk was falling, bringing along drifting fog as they crossed a rickety bridge. Crammed jowl to jowl, the buildings they passed had sagging roofs and peeling paint, drying linens hanging limply from poles extended out the second-floor windows. There were occasional storefronts, light flickering through the dirty glass. Everywhere, babes were squalling, adults shouting, and even animals joined in on the ruckus.
Glory’s ears pricked at the sound of barking in the distance.
“Do you hear that?” she said. “It could be Sir Barkley.”
“It sounds like more than one dog,” Livy replied. “Perhaps we’ve found the dognappers’ stash.”
Excitement shot through Glory as they approached the two-story building at the end of the street. It sat on a larger lot than the others and was enclosed by a rusty iron gate. There was just enough light to make out the faded sign: “Seyfried & Sons Leather Dressers.” The boarded-up windows and ramshackle state suggested that the place had long been abandoned.
“This is the final place on the map,” Livy confirmed.
After a quick glance around, Glory discreetly checked the gate. Locked.
“Let’s go around back,” she said in an undertone. “We don’t want to invite attention.”
The Angels continued along the side of the building. The fence ended where the place butted up against a ditch, a wooden gallery extending over the rivulet of sludge. Here, there was no one to witness them making their entry. Glory sent FF II to do some initial scouting. He easily scaled the fence, his long, furry body arcing as he leapt onto the gallery. He bounded along the perimeter of the wooden deck, then stood on his hind legs and made a dook-dook sound.
The ferret equivalent of a thumb’s up.
“Good boy,” Glory whispered. “Looks like the coast is clear.”
She went first, the other Angels following her onto the deck. With expert speed, she picked the lock on the back door, and the trio crept into the shadowed interior. The former tannery had a rotting odor distinctive from that of the sewage outside, no doubt from the years of animal carcasses being treated and stored within its walls. Grabbing a lantern from a hook, she lit it.
Glory’s breath caught as the light gleamed off metal bars.
“Heavens,” Fiona breathed. “This has to be where they are keeping the dogs.”
The massive cage took center stage in the cavernous room. The cell went halfway up to the high rafters and was wide enough to keep dozens of animals. As Glory walked around the cage, she saw dark stains soaked into the floorboards, and her throat clenched.
Behind her, FF II let out a low hiss and scampered off.
“Where are the dogs now?” Glory’s voice trembled. “Do you think they are all right?”
“Who knows?” Livy said darkly. “Whoever took those dogs is a monster, and this place is a veritable dungeon of horror.”
Shuddering, Glory thought the description was apt. Like the floor, the thick posts that supported the rafters were also splattered with unidentifiable gore. The tanner’s old tools still hung on the walls, and the double-handled fleshing knives, hooks, and skivers added to the unnerving ambiance.
“We should check the other rooms—”
She was cut off by a warning shrill.
Pippa’s whistle.
“We have to go,” Livy whispered.
Livy and Fi ran for the back door, but Glory couldn’t find FF II.
“Come here, boy,” she said urgently.
When he didn’t respond, she dashed to the other rooms, looking for him. No luck. She sprinted back into the main room as voices and heavy footsteps approached the front door. Simultaneously, she heard a soft squeak from overhead; FF II was perched on one of the beams. Snuffing the lantern, she left it on the ground and ran to one of the posts, climbing it quickly. She reached the safety of the shadowed rafters just as the door opened.
Looking at FF II, she placed a finger to her lips. He seemed to understand and scurried to the safety of her shoulders. She pressed into the nook where the wall met the ceiling, her heart pounding as two men entered the room. The blond one with the beard was holding a lamp, and she recognized him from the flash house: Jimmy Bryant, Scott’s right-hand man.
“The room needs to be bigger.” Bryant’s tone was brusque. “Last month, coves were nearly trampled trying to watch the fights, and this time we’re expecting an even larger crowd.”
“But you said the event is this Friday.” The other man scratched his head. “That’s three days from now, guv. Not sure I can—”
“The Wolf’s orders. Do you want to be the bloke who upsets ’im?”
“N-no, sir.” Even in the dimness, the man’s fear was visible. “I’ll, er, take down a wall, expand this room into the others—”
“Mary’s tits, I don’t care ’ow you do it. Just get it done.” Bryant sounded annoyed. “While you’re at it, put in some extra seats. Scott upped the admission ticket to twenty pounds and says the swells expect somefing soft beneath their arses.”
The door squealed open again, and another man appeared. With a rush, Glory recognized the pugnacious face and stocky figure of Farwell.
Bryant looked none too pleased to see the newcomer.
“What the devil are you doing ’ere?” he hissed.
“M-my apologies,” Farwell stammered. “But I ’ave an urgent matter to discuss, and I didn’t know what else—”
“Shut yer bleeding gob. We’ll talk in my carriage.” Turning to the other man, Bryant said tersely, “This place be’er be fixed up by Friday, or ’eads will roll. Understand?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Bryant stalked out, Farwell trailing at his heels.
As the remaining man went to investigate the other rooms, Glory took the opening to clamber down and exit out the back door. Fi and Livy were waiting for her on the gallery.
“Thank heavens you’re all right,” Livy whispered. “We couldn’t see what was going on.”
“That bastard Scott is holding illegal dogfights,” Glory said grimly. “The next event is Friday—the perfect opportunity for us to rescue Sir Barkley and the other dogs.”
Seventeen
Shirtless and seething, Wei took out his frustration on the wooden dummy. Sweat dripped down his face as he punched the inanimate figure. His knuckles were raw and burning, but he didn’t care. The sensation was nothing compared to the pain of letting his family down again.
I thought I picked up a trail. But it led to another dead end. He clenched his jaw. Yet another failure…on today of all days.
Before his lesson with Glory yesterday, he’d gone to Newgate to find the tattooist known as the Don. A guard had stopped him at the gate, stating that an appointment was required for all visits. When he asked to schedule one to see the Don, the guard eyed him suspiciously and questioned his relationship with the prisoner. Wei could only say that he was an acquaintance, and the guard had refused his entry pending an interview with the warden, which could not be scheduled until this morning.
Chomping at the bit, Wei had complied with the bureaucracy. He’d contemplated breaking into Newgate but discarded the plan for being too high risk. Besides, a part of him had believed that yuan fen, or destiny, was at work: today was his sister’s birthday. It would be fitting that on the day Ling Ling had taken her first breath, Wei would finally discover who had made her take her last.
Simmering with anticipation, he’d shown up to meet with the warden…who’d informed him that the Don was dead. Apparently, the cove had passed away in his sleep a few weeks ago. As no kin had come forward to claim his body, he’d been buried in a pauper’s grave.
Progress is an illusion. I think I am getting closer to my vengeance, but it slips like water through my fingers. All this time and I have accomplished nothing.
Wei punched harder, trying to block out his spiraling thoughts. He couldn’t give up—wouldn’t give up. But he didn’t know what to do, how to give his family the peace they deserved. Years of rage welled inside him, and with a roar, he jumped into the air, issuing a spin kick. His foot connected with the dummy’s head, sending it flying across the courtyard.
He landed on his feet, panting, hands fisted at his sides.
“Are we, er, interrupting anything?”
He twisted around to see Hadleigh at the entrance of the courtyard. The duke wasn’t alone. His wife was there…and Glory. She was staring at him with wide eyes, looking so pretty and concerned that desire joined Wei’s swirling emotions.
He struggled to compose himself.
“Pardon,” he muttered. “I was not expecting company.”
Wei reached for a towel, slinging it around his neck. As he hadn’t brought a shirt with him, it was as decent as he could make himself. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he cared. He didn’t feel civilized or calm or any of the things he’d trained himself to feel.
“We saw Yao, and he said to come in.” Hadleigh’s voice held a note of apology.
Yao would say that. Since the disaster this morning, Wei’s shidai had been overly solicitous, hovering and asking if Wei needed anything. He probably thought Wei could use the company.
Wei gripped the ends of the towel. “Was there something you wanted?”
He was curt, bordering on rude. But he wanted to be left alone. Wanted to rage at the universe and lick his wounds in private.
“Actually, there was something,” Her Grace said.
Hadleigh gave his wife an oddly warning look, which she ignored.
“Glory wished to speak with you,” she said, nudging her friend forward.
Seeing Glory’s face turn rosy, Wei frowned. “What about?”
The duchess answered. “As it is a private matter, Hadleigh and I will make ourselves scarce. We’ll be in the other courtyard if you need us.”
Like a determined tugboat, she linked her arm through that of her much larger husband and pulled him toward the exit. Hadleigh went with her, shooting one last concerned glance at Wei over his broad shoulder.
Alone with Glory, his emotions surging, Wei had a bitter moment of clarity.
He wanted her.
A lady who was too well-born and innocent for the likes of him. A lady whom he’d taken on as his student because he was afraid of what he might do otherwise. A lady who trusted him when she ought to have left him to his misery.
His throat clenched with anger at the world—but mostly at himself.
I haven’t changed at all, always doing the wrong thing. Making the wrong choices.
As furious as he was, he knew he was in no state to be around Glory. He had to get rid of her.
“What do you want?” he asked brusquely.
Glory’s mouth was completely dry. In all the time she’d known Master Chen, she’d never seen him in such a state. So raw and exposed…and she wasn’t just referring to his lack of a shirt. Although, heavens, she didn’t know men had that many muscles on their torsos. She blinked, momentarily mesmerized by the sweat-sheened blocks of his chest and the defined bands on his abdomen. Even his hips were lean and cut, girded by an intriguing slant of sinew. As he clenched the ends of the towel looped around his neck, his biceps and forearms bulged, popping with veins.
“Well?” he asked shortly. “What was so important that you came all this way?”
Another lady might have been offended by his harsh tone. Yet Glory knew intuitively that she was not the cause of his mood. She sensed that something had happened. Something bad. He seemed, for lack of a better word, shaken.
His mask of calmness was askew, raw emotion seeping through. His pupils were dilated, his eyes brewing with emotions he was barely keeping in check. Even his hair had given into an unruly wave.
