Read Online Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke by K.J. Jackson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: K.J. Jackson
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London to go back to Clapinshire.”
“But why do you have to leave at night?”
Aggie sighed. S he didn’t want to lie to Lizzie, but there was no way she would ever tell her the full truth. A half-truth would have to do. “I am looking for a way to help mother.”
Lizzie’s eyes turn ed solemn. “Mother,” she nodded. “I understand.”
Aggie kissed her cheek and stood up. “Now get some sleep and do not worry. Everything will be just fine. Oh, and Aunt Beatrix and Uncle Howard probably do not need to hear about this, all right? I do not want to worry either of them, all right?”
“All right .” Lizzie snuggled back under the covers that Aggie tucked around her.
Aggie moved across the room to leave.
“Aggie?”
“Yes?”
“Will Mama get better?”
Aggie forced a bright smile on her face , even as her heart broke for her little sister. “I hope so, Lizzie. I really hope so.”
She closed the door and then leaned back against it. Her sister was too old for a nine-year-old. She had lost too much in her short life, and Aggie was determined that her sister’s life be as normal as possible. She would allow no more loss to enter into Lizzie’s already fragmented world.
Aggie knew she was a terrible substitute for a mother, but if she could give Lizzie that—that one thing—a life where she lost no more people she loved, then Aggie would be happy.
Wiping the corners of her wet eyes, Aggie moved back to her room . Quickly stripping down to her chemise, she went to her wardrobe. Digging down to the bottom, an exasperated smile appeared as she pulled out her recently washed and pressed shirt and breeches, along with her now-clean, tall, black boots and cape. Her maid. Never asking, never telling. She didn’t pay her nearly enough.
Sit ting on the bed, one candle lit next to her, Aggie pulled on the black breeches, then stood and gave a few quick jumps on her toes, relishing the comfort of them, even if they did fit a bit too snugly at the hips.
She pulled on the shirt, laced up the tall boots, and attached the large dark cloak about her. Onto her knees, she pulled a wooden box from under her bed.
Opening it, she grabbed the tin that kept the soot, and she spread the blackness heavily under her eyes for a sunken-eye look, then across her chin, forehead, and cheeks for the filthiest of appearances.
Pulling pins from her hair, she tousled her hair down from her upsweep, and retwisted it tightly, pinning it up and tucking it under the black cap she had swiped from the stables several weeks ago.
Going back to the wooden box, she pulled six pistols, one by one from their neat holders in the box. She ch ecked each for a bullet and gun-powder, then strapped one above her left boot and one higher up on her right thigh. The other four pistols went securely into special pockets she had sewn into her cloak.
Stepping over to the mirror to study her costume, she was, as always, quite pleased with the entire effect. She looked like a skinny, dirty, down-on-his-luck hack driver. And she knew with a splash of brandy onto her cloak on the way out of the house, her smell would complete the disguise.
Aggie made her way out through the gardens and slipped through the back gate. Scurrying through the blocks of courtyards and alleys, she stopped behind the nearby stables. Tommy, the young apprentice to the Bow Street runner she had hired to help her gather information on her father’s murderers, waited outside for her. Sunshine was already hitched to the carriage.
She had hired Tommy when she realized she would need someone discreet to ready her coach and horse every night. Tommy was a young lad, a bit scruffy, but he had the most intelligent eyes. Aggie liked him very much.
“Evening, my lady. ” Tommy’s cap came off as he greeted her with his usual grin, which quickly turned into a determined look. She knew what was coming.
“My lady, I know it is not me business. I know what your answer will be. But I worry
“But why do you have to leave at night?”
Aggie sighed. S he didn’t want to lie to Lizzie, but there was no way she would ever tell her the full truth. A half-truth would have to do. “I am looking for a way to help mother.”
Lizzie’s eyes turn ed solemn. “Mother,” she nodded. “I understand.”
Aggie kissed her cheek and stood up. “Now get some sleep and do not worry. Everything will be just fine. Oh, and Aunt Beatrix and Uncle Howard probably do not need to hear about this, all right? I do not want to worry either of them, all right?”
“All right .” Lizzie snuggled back under the covers that Aggie tucked around her.
Aggie moved across the room to leave.
“Aggie?”
“Yes?”
“Will Mama get better?”
Aggie forced a bright smile on her face , even as her heart broke for her little sister. “I hope so, Lizzie. I really hope so.”
She closed the door and then leaned back against it. Her sister was too old for a nine-year-old. She had lost too much in her short life, and Aggie was determined that her sister’s life be as normal as possible. She would allow no more loss to enter into Lizzie’s already fragmented world.
Aggie knew she was a terrible substitute for a mother, but if she could give Lizzie that—that one thing—a life where she lost no more people she loved, then Aggie would be happy.
Wiping the corners of her wet eyes, Aggie moved back to her room . Quickly stripping down to her chemise, she went to her wardrobe. Digging down to the bottom, an exasperated smile appeared as she pulled out her recently washed and pressed shirt and breeches, along with her now-clean, tall, black boots and cape. Her maid. Never asking, never telling. She didn’t pay her nearly enough.
Sit ting on the bed, one candle lit next to her, Aggie pulled on the black breeches, then stood and gave a few quick jumps on her toes, relishing the comfort of them, even if they did fit a bit too snugly at the hips.
She pulled on the shirt, laced up the tall boots, and attached the large dark cloak about her. Onto her knees, she pulled a wooden box from under her bed.
Opening it, she grabbed the tin that kept the soot, and she spread the blackness heavily under her eyes for a sunken-eye look, then across her chin, forehead, and cheeks for the filthiest of appearances.
Pulling pins from her hair, she tousled her hair down from her upsweep, and retwisted it tightly, pinning it up and tucking it under the black cap she had swiped from the stables several weeks ago.
Going back to the wooden box, she pulled six pistols, one by one from their neat holders in the box. She ch ecked each for a bullet and gun-powder, then strapped one above her left boot and one higher up on her right thigh. The other four pistols went securely into special pockets she had sewn into her cloak.
Stepping over to the mirror to study her costume, she was, as always, quite pleased with the entire effect. She looked like a skinny, dirty, down-on-his-luck hack driver. And she knew with a splash of brandy onto her cloak on the way out of the house, her smell would complete the disguise.
Aggie made her way out through the gardens and slipped through the back gate. Scurrying through the blocks of courtyards and alleys, she stopped behind the nearby stables. Tommy, the young apprentice to the Bow Street runner she had hired to help her gather information on her father’s murderers, waited outside for her. Sunshine was already hitched to the carriage.
She had hired Tommy when she realized she would need someone discreet to ready her coach and horse every night. Tommy was a young lad, a bit scruffy, but he had the most intelligent eyes. Aggie liked him very much.
“Evening, my lady. ” Tommy’s cap came off as he greeted her with his usual grin, which quickly turned into a determined look. She knew what was coming.
“My lady, I know it is not me business. I know what your answer will be. But I worry
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