Jack of Clubs Read online

  “I think you care over much for your reputation, but no one needs know where you are staying, just that I am escorting my ward and her governess. We will not attend the service at St. George’s, anyway, where the ton congregates, just a small chapel nearby where the parishioners are not likely to be hiring your services, or gossiping about you.”

  “I think you do not know your neighbors if you believe they will not take note of the comings and goings of such an exotic establishment.”

  “Ah, but my neighbors are a tea trading business and an apothecary. Both are closed on Sundays. Besides, you shall not be alone with a rake and a rogue, as you seem to fear. Do not try to deny your thoughts, ma’am, because your blushes give you away. Mrs. Crandall shall accompany us as your very respectable chaperone.”

  “Mrs. Mary Crandall, the maid? You must know that a maid does not satisfy the proper conventions.”

  “Not for a debutante, no.”

  What he was saying was that Allie had no claims to the airs of a young lady, despite whatever status her birth might have endowed. She was past the age of marriage now, and part of the working class. She toiled for her bread the same as the seamstress and the scullery maid. Unlike theirs, however, Allie’s employment depended on her reputation, which the captain did not seem to understand, or wish to consider. Of course not. He had Harriet; ergo, he needed a governess.

  He was going on: “Besides, Mary is no longer merely a maid. Due to a generous contribution to the Widows and Orphans Fund, she has her pension, one the government did not see fit to grant. Now my former first sergeant’s wife is a lady of leisure. She chooses to stay here, however, until her sister returns from Ireland in the spring. We will find you another maid.”

  “See?” Harriet asked, her mouth full of toast and jam. “Cap’n Jack thinks of everything.”

  He had not thought that he himself was the problem, not her lack of chaperone, though. A proper governess could walk with a gentleman. But was Captain Endicott a gentleman? “No, thank you,” she told him now. “Although I appreciate your efforts, I must think of my career.”

  “Fustian. My sister-in-law can fix any silly blot in your copybook caused by being seen with me. What is the point of being a countess if you cannot influence everyone else? And my brother supports any number of schools. He can secure you a position at one of them. Besides, no one knows you in town, so no one can sully your good name.”

  “I cannot like it.”

  Harriet turned to Jack, jam on her chin. “I told you she wouldn’t go. You owe me ten pounds. Twenty if she leaves altogether.”

  He was not admitting defeat. “But it is Sunday, Miss Silver, and the sun is shining for once. The placement agencies are closed, the schools will not be interviewing new teachers. Where would you go?”

  Allie still had no idea. She thought she might go with the captain to Mr. Burquist’s office in the morning and ask him to recommend a suitable lodging house or an employment office. That would mean staying here another night, if the captain was not inclined to find separate lodgings for her and Harriet.

  “Would you stay inside the entire day?” he was asking, taking for granted that she would remain at The Red and the Black.

  Allie could easily have gone back to bed and slept until Monday morning. The sunshine was tempting, though, and so were the golden lights dancing in his brown eyes. Too tempting. “Why?”

  “Why do I wish you to accompany me and Harriet to church? Frankly, I am terrified of the brat.”

  Harriet giggled. “Snake says Cap’n Jack is not afraid of anything, ever.”

  “That is Calloway, imp, and he is grateful for his job so he exaggerates. Now take Joker out into the rear garden. After all you have fed him, he needs the exercise.” He turned toward Allie. “It is not much, but it is walled in. And wipe your chin.”

  Allie lifted her napkin to her chin before she realized he meant Harriet, not her. Harriet scrubbed her face with the cloth without needing a second reminder, made a decent curtsey without needing the first reminder, and left.

  “How did you do that? Make her listen to you?”

  “I promised to show her my pistols if she behaved. She is a bloodthirsty little savage, isn’t she?” he asked, but Allie detected a note of fondness beneath the gruff words. She must have missed a great deal while she slept.

  “Why?” she asked again, encompassing a hundred questions.

  He picked the ones he wished to answer. “Why bargain with the brat? The same reason you did, because life is easier that way. Or why do I need you along? The last should be obvious, if I have to bribe my ward to obey.”

  He did not need Allie at all, and they both knew it. Harriet already listened to him better than she had ever heeded anyone at Mrs. Semple’s. And anyone could teach the child her letters; perhaps Mrs. Crandall could do it. She seemed a quiet, competent woman. The dealers could teach Harriet to add, even if no higher than vingt et un. But Allie’s staying was not the immediate question. Harriet’s was.

  “No, why did you tell her she could remain with you?” Allie asked, taking a last sip of her tea. “She will have her heart broken when you send her away. She will not understand, and will not easily trust you again.”

  Jack was not going to admit that he had been blackmailed by an infant. “She does not like school. The other children are unkind to her.”

  “Of course they are. Who would be kind to a fellow student who put spiders in one’s bed?” Allie set her napkin on the table, finished with her meal. The captain refilled his plate, to her amazement. “Did you like school?” she asked him.

  “When I was there and not sent down for some offense or other. But I had my older brother watching out for me. He was born a viscount, then succeeded to the earldom at the age of fourteen, so no one offended him, or me by association. He had the power of authority even as a lad, and became a deadly shot later. He’s still handy with his fives, except when he has to remove his spectacles.”

  “Do you not think Harriet should attend school, meet girls her own age and station? Not that your employees are not decent women.” She hoped they were, anyway. And hoped she did not sound too much of a snob. “But are they proper companions for Lord Hildebrand’s granddaughter? Do you truly think Harriet belongs here?”

  “I think she has lost her entire family, and she is lonely and afraid. Lud, when our stepmother passed away, and then our father soon after, I could not bear to let Ace out of my sight. My brother, Alexander, that is, who was nothing more than a boy himself, poor blighter, with a runny-nosed rapscallion stuck to him like glue. Harriet has no big brother to make her feel safe, no parents to adore her, no grandparents to spoil her. The poor mite needs a home more than she needs schooling or social graces or more snubs from wealthier, better born brats.”

  Allie felt sympathy for the little boy left with no one but his big brother, although she knew there would be trustees and old family retainers to look after the wealthy aristocratic orphans, but the captain was wrong. “But this is not a home! That is my point. It is a habitat for wastrels, pleasure seekers, here-and thereians.”

  “It is a polite gaming parlor,” he corrected her. “But you are right, it is not a suitable dwelling for a child. In another month or so my brother’s town house should be ready. By then we should be firmly in the black, besides. I could purchase a small place, perhaps in Kensington where property is not so dear, and live apart from the club. Downs can manage on his own when I am not here. Harriet would need a proper governess, of course, to show her how to go on like a lady. She already respects you and wishes you to stay.”

  Allie shook her head, sending the long golden hair shimmering around her. “I am certain the agencies can supply an older woman, one whose age protects her from slander. I am not quite in my dotage.”

  Jack clutched his fork so he would not be tempted to smooth the wavy tresses back, away from the plates on the table, away from her face, letting it run through his fingers, letting it smooth his skin, st
ir his senses more than—He choked on a bit of toast. Lud, what was he thinking? When he could speak again, he said, “You are not in your dotage, Miss Silver, but neither am I an old goat, forcing myself on my female employees.” At least he never had been, before.

  “I never said you were…goatish, just that people will talk.”

  “People always talk. Let them.”

  “That is easy for you to say. You have your family to fall back on, any number of skills you can use to earn a living. You could be a farmer. You could go back to the army if the club failed.”

  “Never.”

  “Then another business. If your brother has so many schools in his keeping, he must have a position for you. Training his horses, overseeing his lands, caring for his hounds, for heaven’s sake. Gossip cannot hurt you. That is why you can afford to be so cavalier about it. Life is different for a woman on her own, no matter how unfair that is. The world is different for a female without family or funds, and it is far crueler.”

  “But no one will know you are here or who you are, I swear! Other than my own staff, who know better than to chat with outsiders, that is. You could change your name like half the women do.”

  Allie stood, and so he stood also, showing that he did have the manners, at least, of a gentleman. That was not enough for her. “I am sorry, Captain Endicott. I am proud of my name and wish to stay proud of it. You are the hero, the one who is afraid of nothing. I am not half as brave. Nor am I a gambler.”

  Chapter Eight

  Allie went to church after all. How could she preach propriety if she did not follow the simplest rules of righteous behavior? She had to set a good example for Harriet, and she had to ask for guidance.

  She did not go alone with Captain Endicott, and Harriet, of course, who did not count as a chaperone. That she would have refused outright. Instead they were accompanied by a group of The Red and the Black’s residents. Dressed in their Sunday best, they looked like any other folks walking to church, not hardened gamesters and ladies of ill repute.

  Mrs. Mary Crandall, who had confessed she could not read and thus would not be a fitting governess, nevertheless held Harriet’s hand and told her stories about the Spanish campaign.

  That was not what Allie might have considered appropriate for a Sunday lesson, but Harriet was not pestering Snake—Mr. Calloway, that was—who walked ahead with his massive arms crossed against his barrel chest, his mustachios neatly combed. He had recently threatened to carve Harriet into horse feathers if she did not stop asking to see his tattoo again.

  Two dark-haired women followed Calloway. Allie did not know them, but they smiled prettily, and had no face paint this morning, so she smiled back, admiring their bonnets. Her own had been mended by Mrs. Crandall, although she was no longer a maid. She liked to keep busy, the older woman had said, pinning a cluster of silk violets to the bonnet’s brim, to hide where the dog had pawed on it, to get the wretched thing off his head. Mary pinned another cluster of silk flowers onto Allie’s cloak, which had been sponged and dried, so the mud and travel dust were gone.

  “I like to see pretty things, after all the ugliness of war,” Mary told her, so Allie could not refuse the gift of the flowers and the woman’s efforts. She did feel a great deal better this morning anyway, clean and rested, well fed, with Captain Endicott’s extra coins in her purse. Maybe she was prettier too. Nothing to compare to the women of The Red and the Black, of course, but Captain Endicott had smiled at her when she finally agreed to attend church with him. With them.

  He, of course, looked magnificent. He walked at Allie’s side, matching his strides to her shorter steps, speaking politely of the weather, the political news, the buildings they passed. Nothing about him or his conversation could offend, which was, in a way, more offensive to Allie. The man was a gambler and a shabster. Why could he not be a total cad so she could hate him entirely?

  To keep from noticing the laugh lines at his eyes, the curving smile at his lips, or the way the morning light brought a golden warmth to his brown curls, Allie kept her attention on the couple directly ahead of her.

  Darla and Mr. Downs were arguing. He wore a sticking plaster on his head and she wore a scrap of ecru lace, tied in a saucy bow near her left cheek. The captain’s assistant did not look at the girl, and Darla could not seem to look at anything but him.

  “I said I was sorry,” Darla was saying, loudly enough that Allie could not help but overhear. “And I was only following Cap’n Jack’s orders.”

  “I know. He told me. If you’d asked me before going off half-cocked, I could have caused a ruckus at the door, without putting on a raree show for the customers.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

  Allie looked over at Captain Endicott. “She hit him?” she whispered.

  He held his finger to his lips. “Sh. They have to settle this themselves.”

  Downs was feeling his head and the sticking plaster there. “I’ve had worse.”

  “And I know the cap’n gave you a bonus.”

  Downs nodded. “For being wounded in the line of duty, he said.”

  Allie looked at the captain, but he just smiled and patted her hand, slowing their pace so the other couple was a bit further ahead, despite Downs’s limp.

  Allie could still hear them, though. Darla was prodding Downs with her parasol and saying, “So what has your garters tied in granny knots? Seems to me we helped the boss and got paid for it. We choused the cheat, and made sure no one saw the brat.”

  The brat? Harriet? Allie walked faster, to make sure she did not miss a word. The captain was smiling beside her, enjoying the walk and the morning and the bickering couple ahead of them.

  Darla poked Downs with her parasol again. “So why are you acting like I am the worm in your bushel basket of apples? Cap’n Jack says I helped saved the club.”

  “Because you made me look the fool, that’s why!” Downs said, taking the weapon from her and tucking it under his own arm. “All the patrons were laughing at me, and the staff, too.”

  “Oh, who cares about them?”

  “I do! I have to face them again tomorrow night and listen to all the jokes.”

  “What, that a short little carrot-top bashed you for getting familiar?”

  “That the prettiest girl in the place rejected my advances.”

  Darla stopped walking. “You think I’m pretty?”

  Downs kept going. “I used to.”

  Darla hurried to catch up. “But you didn’t make any advances. That was just the diversion the cap’n wanted.”

  “I know that, but no one else does! They think I am some pitiful, crippled blighter who can’t win a girl on his own.”

  “A’course you can. Any female in the club ’d be proud to walk out on your arm. I’m here, ain’t I?”

  “Hah. He’s most likely paying you again. I’m the captain’s charity case, and everyone knows it.”

  “They know you half run the place for him, and do his hiring and firing, too.”

  “I hire the women. He gets to flirt with them. Not that I would want to or anything, of course.”

  Darla ignored his disclaimer. “Then we’ll show ’em tomorrow night.”

  “Show them what?”

  “That you won my heart. Not my favors, mind, ’cause I still ain’t that kind of girl. But if I smile at you, and bring you a glass of wine, and whisper in your ear and, you know, rub up against you a little, then no one will laugh.”

  “They’ll be jealous as hell.”

  “You really think I’m pretty? Not too short and plump?”

  “You’re a regular Pocket Venus. That’s what the swells call a little goddess, you know.”

  Darla seemed to stand taller and expand her chest. “Then we’ll put on another show for the customers tomorrow, right?”

  “Just pretend?”

  Allie could not hear any answer, but she thought she saw Darla wink at the former soldier. He stood taller, too.

  Wh
en they reached the chapel, a stone building tucked behind a row of shops, Allie demanded an explanation. Jack let the others file into the pews first, then gave it.

  Harriet in the gaming rooms? A card sharp? A shouting match, with flying serving trays, over a supposed seduction? Good grief, The Red and the Black was no place for a child! Or for a respectable schoolteacher. Surely Captain Endicott could see that.

  He only said they would talk about it later.

  Later, though, after the service of which Allie heard not a word, except his rich baritone singing the hymns, he would not discuss another home for Harriet.

  “I promised,” was all he said. “And that incident last night is already forgotten. No one noticed anything.”

  Except Harriet, of course, who was busy recounting her adventure to Calloway and Mrs. Crandall, and anyone else who would listen when they stopped for refreshment at a coffee shop on the way home. To hear Harriet tell it, the captain had the courage of a lion, the strength of an elephant, the cunning of a tiger. “Can we go to the menagerie this afternoon, Cap’n Jack?”

  Before her guardian could answer Downs spoke up, reminding everyone of Darla’s brilliant role in foiling the would-be felon. It seemed he had been struck by more than the serving tray.

  After coffee and meat pie, they went home to fetch Joker for a run in the park. The two dark-haired dealers went back to their attic rooms to rest after their long night yesterday, and Calloway decided to check every deck of cards for shaved edges and marked backs, every pair of dice for extra weights inside. Allie would have stayed behind too, looking at old newspapers for notices of positions available. Harriet was already holding the dog’s lead, though. As long as Captain Endicott was paying her wages, Allie had no honorable choice but to earn her salary. And the sun was still shining, besides. Time enough for the employment ads tomorrow, when the newspapers would have new listings.

  No one had asked Joker if he wanted a jaunt in the fresh air. He dragged behind Harriet until they reached Green Park. Then he rolled in the browning grass, ate a crust of bread someone had thrown for the birds, and crawled under the bench where Mrs. Crandall was taking out her knitting. He sprawled there, ignoring the squirrels.