Rosemary Stevens Read Online Free Page B

her?
    “Nevill is a bit rough around the edges, but a fine soldier,” I said. “Since you say Molly has changed, and assuming she truly loves him, then the match is a good one.”
    Miss Lavender smiled at me. Before we could continue our conversation, Lionel came dashing up to her side. Lionel is a boy of thirteen years, the only male Miss Lavender houses. She took him home after he had been arrested by her father for pickpocketing. Hunger had forced him to steal after he ran away from the master who had used him as a chimney-sweep in his younger years.
    “Lionel, must you always race from place to place?” Miss Lavender scolded with affection.
    His face split into a grin. “Iffen I’m to be a Bow Street Runner one day, I ‘ave to keeps in practice. Evenin’ Mr. Brummell, sir.”
    “Good evening, Lion,” I said, using my nickname for him. He reminds me of a lion, with his wild mane of short light-brown hair that has streaks of blond at the top. One big cowlick in front only serves to accentuate his short nose. “Are you happy to have a night at Vauxhall?”
    The boy grinned again. “I sure am. I’m told there’s to be a great display of the Cascade tonight. I reckon that’ll be mighty excitin’. Then the fireworks!”
    I suddenly longed to be at Lion’s side as he watched the Cascade exhibition and the fireworks display. Perhaps my jaded gaze would be able to appreciate the entertainments more if I viewed them through his eyes. “I am looking forward to the same activities. Why don’t we watch them together?”
    “Odsbodikins!” Lionel cried. He looked to Miss Lavender.
    “Of course,” I said, “I would be grateful for your company as well, Miss Lavender.”
    “I should like it above all things,” she replied, eyes sparkling.
    “Wait,” Lionel said. “I almost forgots why I came to get you, Miss Lavender. Your father is over by the music pavilion with that starchy Mr. Read fella’. He wants you to come over.”
    Miss Lavender sighed. “Lionel, I’ve told you that Mr. Read is one of the important Bow Street magistrates. You must be polite to him if you wish for future employment with Bow Street.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Lionel muttered, his eyes downcast.
    “Excuse us, please, Mr. Brummell.”
    “Certainly. Could we agree to meet back at this spot in a quarter of an hour? That should give us time to get a good place by the Cascade exhibition.”
    “Yes,” she replied before walking away.
    A sense of awareness caused me to turn my gaze toward the entrance of the Pleasure Gardens. A quieting of the crowd in that direction told me someone of significance had arrived. A moment later, Theobald Jacombe came into view. He was alone and bore an expression of confidence on his face.
    All eyes were on him. He waved a hand as if in acknowledgement that everyone knew about the duel, and he was signalling that all was for a good purpose and would be well.
    A spontaneous cheer went up as he made his way to the supper boxes. I could hardly believe my own ears. And there was Fairingdale, rushing to toady to Mr. Jacombe, to let everyone know that he was standing as Mr. Jacombe’s second in the duel.
    I procured a glass of wine and stood drinking the contents. Nevill must not fight this duel. I must convince him to withdraw. Then I could face Jacombe on my own. Intuition told me that a man of Jacombe’s years who would fight a youth was a coward inside. The whole thing would be much too easy for him. What would be Jacombe’s reaction if he were forced to fight me instead? I am more than a decent shot, if I say so myself.
    With these thoughts firmly in mind, I sought out the lieutenant.
    Yet another arrival caused a stir just as I was about to reach him. A very tall, thin man with hunched shoulders seemed to be the object of a great deal of whispering. I studied him, noticing first that he wore a long sable coat around his stringy body and a dark red velvet turban on his head, even though it was July. Past