Page 28 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
“He no longer had any use for it. He died of dysentery, poor chap.”
“You should get rid of it. It is dangerous to go around impersonating a lieutenant.”
“But it impresses the devil out of the ladies.” Gideon grinned. “Sometimes I think I should have stayed with the regiment, but things got sadly flat after Waterloo. And I daresay they won’trelease poor old Boney from Elba merely to suit me. So alas, my dear, I fear your brother must embark upon a new career.”
“What worries me is that you have already found one.”
“Sara, I assure you one last time. I am not the Hook. I swear upon our mother’s grave.”
“Our mother is not dead.”
“The graves of our fathers then.”
“Whoever they might be.”
“Not even our own mama knows for sure.” Gideon flashed her a dazzling smile. Her brother possessed enough charm to wheedle himself into anyone’s good graces, from the local barmaid to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Only Sara had never been taken in by him. When he reached out to pat her hand, Sara gave his fingers a sharp whack with her fan.
“Ow!” Gideon sucked on his injured knuckle, eyeing her reproachfully. “For all your pretensions, Sara, there is one difference between you and the Quality. I have never seen a real lady use her fan for a truncheon.”
“I wish this was a club. Maybe then I could beat some sense into your head,” Sara muttered as she checked the handle of her fan to make sure she had not broken it. “I never thought I would say this, but some things were better back in the days when we all lived in the slums of Bethnal Green. If you and Davy didn’t mind me, I could thrash you both. Now Davy is taller than you and I cannot reach to box his ears. He is making a living by stealing dead bodies to sell and you are up to heaven knows what. I daresay I shall end with both of my brothers clapped up in Newgate.”
“At least you will know where we are.” Gideon’s knuckles had apparently recovered enough for him to risk chucking her under the chin. “Old Aunt Peg always said I was a villain child, born to hang. When the day comes, will you shed a tear for me, sweet Sara?”
“Only if you reek of onions.” She turned her head away so that he could not see her lip quiver in a rare display of emotion. She had but two fears, one was of ending like her mother, living above a pawnshop, reminiscing about her many lovers and the glories of her youth. The other was of Gideon finishing his life upon the gallows.
Sara was close in age to both her brothers, but it had always been Gideon she had understood and loved too well. How many nights had she lost sleep worrying about him, imagining him taking that final walk up the scaffolding, smiling and defiant even as the thick hemp was slipped round his neck.
If she understood Gideon through and through, then likewise he comprehended her every mood. He settled back into the chair beside her and covered her hand with his own.
“Come on, Sary. Please stop fretting and scolding.” Gideon’s charm was never more lethal than when he resorted to using her childhood nickname. “I admit I have done a reckless thing or two which could get me hanged. But one of my friends has put me onto a scheme for making money that is practically foolproof.”
“If this suggestion came from one of those ruffians who carouse with you at the Jolly Tar, I shudder to think what it is.”
“No, this has nothing to do with any of my dockside acquaintances. This idea came from the respectable Mr. Keeler. That is, before we had our falling out. That boy is the most reprehensible cheater at cards.” Gideon’s lips thinned, but the ugly expression vanished as quickly as it had come, as he continued enthusiastically, “But Keeler has his uses, being a banker’s son. Before we parted company, he showed me an almost undetectable method of counterfeiting coin.”
“Counterfeiting? That is your notion of honest employment?”
“I never said anything about honest employment. I said I had found a good way to make money.”
Sara pressed her fingers to her temple, feeling the familiar niggling. She would end by having one of her infamous headaches over this. Counterfeiting coin! What madness would possess Gideon next?
“I think it would be better if you left London. You are doomed to get yourself into some sort of deep water if you remain here,” Sara said. “I could lend you enough money to get out of the city.”
“Leave London and do what?”
“Rusticate in the country or go abroad or?—”
Sara was floundering for another suggestion when she was interrupted by someone barging into their box. One of the players burst in, a petite female with a half-exposed bosom and carroty curls.
“Excuse me, madam,” the girl squeaked. “I was looking for—oh, Gideon!”
When her brother rose to his feet, the chit all but flung herself into his arms. Wrinkling her nose, Sara attempted to fan away the stench of cloying perfume. Why did Gideon have such low taste in females?
Slipping his arm about the creature’s waist, Gideon said, “Cherry, my little love. Allow me to present you to my sister.”
Sara gave the girl a look that would have frosted hot tea. She had no desire to be introduced to any three-penny actress. The girl greeted her with a mighty sob, her face pale beneath her layering of garish makeup.
“What’s the matter, love?” Gideon asked.
