Fury beat a drum at her temple. Anger that she’d not seen right through him, along with the disappointment that she had let her guard down. She didn’t care that he wasn’t the man she’d thought, just that he’d fooled her. It had to be the reason for the unpleasant sensation in her stomach.
She put her hands on her hips and received a tut from the seamstress’s little assistant. She dropped her hands back to her sides. To think she’d felt sorry he found himself pitting his wits against the likes of Jack.
‘All done, ma’am,’ the girl said.
Charity gave her a sweet smile, though her teeth was gritted so hard they hurt. ‘Thank you.’
Smoothing her gloves, she strolled into the front of the shop. Mr Gilvry had a small bundle wrapped in brown paper and string hanging by a loop from a finger.
‘My purchases?’ she asked.
‘Mrs Donaldson thought you would want to take them with you.’
The older woman gave a brisk nod. ‘I will have the gowns ready for the day after tomorrow.’
‘You will find me at the White Horse.’
Mrs Donaldson looked down her thin pointy noise. ‘Aye. Mr Gilvry told me.’
Mr Gilvry put a hand in the small of her back to usher her out. A light possessive touch. And far too intimate for a gentleman with a lady. She leaned a little too close and felt the hitch in his breath with a smile as the doorbell tinkled overhead.
‘Very successful, I’m thinking,’ he said, shielding her with the umbrella and his body from the wind and the rain.
‘Mmm,’ she murmured giving him an arch sideways glance. ‘Is there a cobbler nearby?’
She could not help the little kick of triumph at the brief flash of dismay on his face. It restored her confidence no end.
* * *
Jack poured himself another coffee.
‘Where were you last night?’ Charity asked idly, trying not to look worried.
He leered at her across the congealing remains of his breakfast. ‘Sampling the local fare.’
From the look on his face he was not talking about food. So he’d not gone to the tables without her as she had suspected. She hated missing a chance to augment her funds, but she was glad he’d fed his other appetites. It made him less unpredictable.
‘You?’ he asked mildly, but his eyes were sharp and watchful.
‘Here. He dropped me off after I emptied his purse. He’d a dinner engagement with friends.’ Not surprisingly, she wasn’t invited. Nor had she asked him to come to her later. She could hardly tell Jack she hadn’t been sure he’d accept.
Jack gave her a speculative look. ‘Losing your touch, dear heart? Perhaps you’ll have better luck with McKenzie.’
Repressing the urge to shudder, she looked down her nose at him. ‘I know what I am doing. I hope to see him today.’
‘Did he say anything of interest?’
‘Interest in what regard?’ she asked cautiously.
He pinched his lower lip between thumb and forefinger as he considered his reply. ‘About his business. About him. Anything of use in negotiations.’
Things he could use to beat down the price. ‘He’s not flush with coin, yet he spends freely to impress. So this deal must be important.’ She took a breath, remembering how generous he’d been, with his coin and his protection. ‘He’s a man of his word. Not to mention stiff-necked. He has a brother here in town. A lawyer. That might be cause for concern.’
He put down his cup and sat back with narrowed eyes. ‘You think they are desperate?’
Trust Jack to focus on weakness. ‘Desperate? I’m not sure, I would go that far, but he seemed keen. He dropped a lot of blunt on me yesterday without a murmur.’ Or not much of one.
Jack looked pleased and she felt the stiffness go out of her shoulders.
‘Did he talk about his business at all?’
A trickle of something cold ran down her back. ‘No. I spent most of the afternoon with my clothes off. It wasn’t conducive to that kind of conversation.’
‘Conducive, is it? I suppose you had your hands full.’ He leered. ‘Or your mouth.’
She restrained the urge to slap his smiling face. He liked to torment her with her failings as a harlot, yet make her feel like one. Bringing her down a peg or two, he called it. ‘We had tea, Jack.’
‘And you will see him later today?’
She glanced out of the window. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained overcast. ‘If it stops raining.’
Jack’s neck darkened with the blood of sudden anger. ‘Then you had better hope it does.’
‘Why so anxious? It is you who sounds desperate now.’
‘If it is any of your business, I want to be sure of where he is for an hour or two. McKenzie is introducing me to someone today. I don’t want the Gilvrys to know.’
She opened her mouth to ask who, but Growler swaggered into the room with a note in his hand.
Jack reached out to take it, but the ruffian avoided the blunt fingers and gave it to Charity.
She shot Jack a look of triumph and broke the seal with her fruit knife. She hadn’t been sure, even after he paid for all those clothes, that she hadn’t pushed him too hard, hadn’t forced his eyes open just a little too much.
He wasn’t the sort of man she usually toyed with. There was too much intelligence behind that pretty face.
She scanned the note.
‘What does he say?’ Jack asked.
She tossed the note across the table. It fell in the egg, the ink blurring. ‘He will pick us up here in one hour and take us to the docks at Leith. To see the King land.’
Jack grinned. ‘I knew I could rely on you.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Remember that, Jack. I gather you don’t come with us?’
He shook his head and stood up.
‘Will we go to the tables tonight?’ The tables was where she earned more than her keep.
‘Greedy wench.’
‘Jack?’ she warned.
‘No. I have other plans. I may go out of town for a day or so.’
‘Days?’
‘I’ll leave Growler here, in case you need anything.’
‘To keep an eye on me, you mean.’ She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her tone.
‘You and him, too.’
Gilvry, he meant. Jack trusted no one. Sometimes she wondered if he would even let her go when it was time, knowing what she did. Indeed, she feared he would not. Hence her contingency plan. Her secret bank account in a false name. It was nowhere near enough for her to live on yet.
‘He’s no threat to me, as far as I can see.’ She certainly didn’t want Growler and his bullies hurting him. Not unless he got out of hand.
Jack pulled out his watch and glanced at it. ‘If you’ve only an hour, you best stir your stumps.’
An hour. She put a hand to her hair still in its night-time plait. ‘You are right. I will want to look my best.’ She