Page 14 of Miss Delightful
“You will not inspect any pawnshops in St. James’s without me,” Mr. MacKay said. “And you should not go at all.”
“I am not a former soldier,” Dorcas said, favoring him with a warning smile. “I do not take orders well, Mr. MacKay.”
“My guess is you don’t take orders at all, excepting perhaps from the Almighty, but women frequent St. James’s without escort at their peril.”
“I am notwomen, though I appreciate your concern. I am known for my indifference to the strictures of propriety when about my charitable activities, though I take the occasional unconventional step only in the interests of good causes. I am labeled eccentric, crusading, or simply bothersome, rather than scandalous. I spent a few nights in jail last autumn, for example.”
“You were arrested?”
“Nothing so exciting. I was investigating. I wrote an article about the experience for theCharitable Circular. Everybody mutters that my father ought to take me in hand, but polite society would never accuse me of seeking untoward notice from idlers in the windows of the gentlemen’s clubs. The gossips would dismiss my folly as more odd behavior from Thomas Delancey’s headstrong daughter, nothing more.”
“And the gossips didn’t read your article either, did they?”
“They complimented me on my zeal. I hate that word when it’s used to mean foolishness.”
“So why not give up, Miss Delancey? Find some nice young clergyman with good prospects and excellent family. Become the helpmeet whose demure devotion recommends him for advancement more strongly than his most brilliant sermons. Set his feet on the path to a bishopric and spare yourself the nights in jail and the committee meetings.”
Of the two, the committee meetings were the worse penance. “Mrs. Fry has eight or nine children, at least. She hasn’t given up her charitable work with the female prisoners at Newgate, and the place is much better for it.”
“But she has a banker husband and the Quaker community behind her. What backing do you have?”
Dorcas ought to resent his questions, but she was too pleased to find herself in the midst of an honest discussion. “When you went out on those reconnaissance missions, making forays by dark of night into enemy territory, what backing did you have, Mr. MacKay?”
The bell at the door tinkled merrily as more patrons arrived.
“The trouble with you,” he said, leaning partway over the table, “is that you are both smart and confident of your convictions. If you were intelligent but lacking courage, or arrogant but dull-witted, society would have a much easier time with you. You flummox them, and they hide that by pretending to ignore you.”
A reconnaissance officer was perceptive by nature, though Dorcas was unnerved at the accuracy of Mr. MacKay’s assessment—also a little pleased.
“Is this more of your backhanded flattery, Mr. MacKay?”
“No. It’s an explanation for why you worry me. When you flummox the wrong people long enough, they stop pointing and whispering and go on the offensive.”
Rather than argue his point—which was valid—Dorcas ate her share of good sandwiches and unremarkable but pretty tea cakes. Mr. MacKay consumed his portion with the steady focus of a hungry man. His manners were refined, though he didn’t bother with small talk while he ate.
Dorcas felt as if she’d been given a reprieve, a few minutes in a neutral corner to regain her wind.
He wasconcernedfor her.
Nobody was concerned for her, and she preferred it that way. Papa tolerated her eccentricities because she was useful to him and because she never crossed the lines that mattered. She could not afford to.
But Alasdhair MacKay saw her. Saw that she was angry, that she took risks, that she might someday fall from grace—publicly. What else would he see if Dorcas gave him the opportunity for further reconnaissance missions?
What would she learn about him? “Did Melanie proposition you?”
He set down his mug of tea slowly. “And if she had? Am I so awful a specimen as all that, Miss Delancey?”
He was not awful. He was, in his way, impressive, also unpredictable. Smart and confident, to use his words.
“I don’t care if you’re a royal duke with a private fortune. My cousin should not have been reduced to trolling for custom in the park.”
“Drink your chocolate. It’s best consumed hot.”
“I want to know, Mr. MacKay. I need to know.”
“She was working up to it. I turned the conversation in a different direction. I did not see her in the park after that. I’ll have a look around that pawnshop and let you know what I find.”
“I’m coming with you.”
