Read Online Victorian Dream by Gini Rifkin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gini Rifkin
Tags: Victorian
Ads: Link
his breath.
“Don’t be gettin’ in a lather,” he snapped back. “I left the ship at Weymouth when they made port to unload the mail packets. Then I come overland so’s it took me a while longer than expected.”
“Why the need for such an elaborate itinerary?”
“Because a certain Captain Garrison was also aboard ship, and I didn’t want him seein’ me make for London.”
“Yes, I heard you bungled the job from tip to tail. What the deuce happened?”
Bloody hell. The cove had already found out. “Well now, Lucien, I’m trail weary and a might hungry,” he pointed out, hoping to forestall the abuse he knew was coming.
“You deserve a flogging rather than food,” Lucien railed, “but come along to the kitchen.”
Grimsby followed meekly, although what he wanted was to punch Lucien in the head. The puff didn’t have enough guts or muscle to do his own dirty work, and if things happened to go wrong, he bitched and moaned as if he could have done any better. It weren’t a perfect world, a body had to expect a setback now and again.
****
Hearing their approach, Beatrice hid the glass of gin and jumped to busy herself at the stove.
“Beatsie, old nub.” Bartholomew gave her a thwack on the rump. “How are you, girl? You got some decent victuals for your dear brother? My stomach’s near rubbin’ my backbone.”
Beatrice couldn’t help but be pleased to see her brother. He was her only kin, and in his own way looked after her.
“Hello, Barty.” She gave him a smile. “I’ve got a roasted chicken, veggie soup, and white bread. And there’s a pot o’ tea already on the table.”
“Praise be. That bow wow mutton they served wayside, gave me the mullygrubs.”
She watched Lucien take down the jug of rum and two glasses. If the drink mellowed his mood, they might spend another afternoon and evening in the country before returning to the crowded smog-filled streets of London. Maybe even stay overnight.
She was about to join the men at the table, but Lucien caught her by the arm. “Here love,” he said, handing her an opium cigarette. “Why don’t you go relax in the afternoon sun? You fixed us a fine bit of lunch. You deserve a sit down.”
The smile on Lucien’s face was innocent, but his painful grip on her wrist told her not to disobey. She grabbed the offering—it was better than food. When he released her, she ambled down the corridor and turned right as if to go to the courtyard. Lucien was watching, she could feel his gaze on her backside. Once beyond his view, she crept around the back hallway to the larder.
The kitchen and pantry shared a common wall. Pulling down a bag of sugar and shifting a sack of potatoes revealed a small hole through which she could see and hear the men sitting by the stove.
“Now, what the hell happened?” Lucien growled. “Why is this Garrison fellow still walking upright?”
“Things went a wee bit awry,” her brother hedged.
“A wee bit? You botched the whole job, you cretin.”
“It weren’t my fault. And I had extra work on account of a sailor what got in the way at a crucial moment. Don’t worry,” he soothed, with a raised hand. “That one won’t talk. He’s boxed up pretty as you please. But I was hopin’ for a bonus for the extra effort.”
“I’m debating on paying you at all, and you’ve the gall to ask for extra?” The heated glare accompanying Lucien’s words could have melted block ice.
“You weren’t there, you don’t know how hard it was to pull off what you wanted, especially with all them people millin’ about. And I’m getting older,” Barty admitted. “I need the money for my retiring years. Much as I’d like to, I can’t afford to do work for free out of the goodness of me heart.”
“Do stop carrying on. You’re a necessary evil in my scheme of things. I’ll make it worth your while. You could have at least made sure the partnership papers went unsigned. Or at least retrieved them.”
“But
“Don’t be gettin’ in a lather,” he snapped back. “I left the ship at Weymouth when they made port to unload the mail packets. Then I come overland so’s it took me a while longer than expected.”
“Why the need for such an elaborate itinerary?”
“Because a certain Captain Garrison was also aboard ship, and I didn’t want him seein’ me make for London.”
“Yes, I heard you bungled the job from tip to tail. What the deuce happened?”
Bloody hell. The cove had already found out. “Well now, Lucien, I’m trail weary and a might hungry,” he pointed out, hoping to forestall the abuse he knew was coming.
“You deserve a flogging rather than food,” Lucien railed, “but come along to the kitchen.”
Grimsby followed meekly, although what he wanted was to punch Lucien in the head. The puff didn’t have enough guts or muscle to do his own dirty work, and if things happened to go wrong, he bitched and moaned as if he could have done any better. It weren’t a perfect world, a body had to expect a setback now and again.
****
Hearing their approach, Beatrice hid the glass of gin and jumped to busy herself at the stove.
“Beatsie, old nub.” Bartholomew gave her a thwack on the rump. “How are you, girl? You got some decent victuals for your dear brother? My stomach’s near rubbin’ my backbone.”
Beatrice couldn’t help but be pleased to see her brother. He was her only kin, and in his own way looked after her.
“Hello, Barty.” She gave him a smile. “I’ve got a roasted chicken, veggie soup, and white bread. And there’s a pot o’ tea already on the table.”
“Praise be. That bow wow mutton they served wayside, gave me the mullygrubs.”
She watched Lucien take down the jug of rum and two glasses. If the drink mellowed his mood, they might spend another afternoon and evening in the country before returning to the crowded smog-filled streets of London. Maybe even stay overnight.
She was about to join the men at the table, but Lucien caught her by the arm. “Here love,” he said, handing her an opium cigarette. “Why don’t you go relax in the afternoon sun? You fixed us a fine bit of lunch. You deserve a sit down.”
The smile on Lucien’s face was innocent, but his painful grip on her wrist told her not to disobey. She grabbed the offering—it was better than food. When he released her, she ambled down the corridor and turned right as if to go to the courtyard. Lucien was watching, she could feel his gaze on her backside. Once beyond his view, she crept around the back hallway to the larder.
The kitchen and pantry shared a common wall. Pulling down a bag of sugar and shifting a sack of potatoes revealed a small hole through which she could see and hear the men sitting by the stove.
“Now, what the hell happened?” Lucien growled. “Why is this Garrison fellow still walking upright?”
“Things went a wee bit awry,” her brother hedged.
“A wee bit? You botched the whole job, you cretin.”
“It weren’t my fault. And I had extra work on account of a sailor what got in the way at a crucial moment. Don’t worry,” he soothed, with a raised hand. “That one won’t talk. He’s boxed up pretty as you please. But I was hopin’ for a bonus for the extra effort.”
“I’m debating on paying you at all, and you’ve the gall to ask for extra?” The heated glare accompanying Lucien’s words could have melted block ice.
“You weren’t there, you don’t know how hard it was to pull off what you wanted, especially with all them people millin’ about. And I’m getting older,” Barty admitted. “I need the money for my retiring years. Much as I’d like to, I can’t afford to do work for free out of the goodness of me heart.”
“Do stop carrying on. You’re a necessary evil in my scheme of things. I’ll make it worth your while. You could have at least made sure the partnership papers went unsigned. Or at least retrieved them.”
“But
Similar Books
