Page 18 of The Lady is Trouble
Julian hung his bootheel on the wheel’s spoke and gave his aching shoulders a roll. “Who better to deal with a furious gutter rat from me, you, and Finn?” No one had been angrier than Julian in those days. Both when he arrived in Seven Dialsandwhen he left. The time in between had simply included a multitude of brutal learnings.
And he was an incredibly apt pupil.
“I reckon there’s truth to that.” Humphrey climbed atop the cart’s warped seat and grasped the reins. “The boy’s hand trickeries, I tell you, I’ve never seen the like. A magician could do no better.”
Julian dusted his hands on trousers now sporting a jagged tear in one knee. “His gift?”
“A new one around here, all right. He sees people.”
“People?”
Humphrey slapped the reins on his thigh. “Dead ones.”
“There’s a section in the chronology—”
“Oh, not that thing, please,” Humphrey groaned.
Julian tilted his head toward the gardener’s cottage. “We can’t house him here like we usually do with new arrivals. A boy alone…” The words faded as he realized he had no idea what to do with a vagrant urchin whose skills were so astounding that in a city of a thousand pickpockets, he’d garnered undue attention. “The bedchamber next to Piper is vacant.”
Humphrey had the good grace to check the smile, bringing the hand holding the reins to his mouth. The swift movement sent the horse into a nervous sidestep.
“Two hellions with only a wall separating them. Just bloody wonderful. I can’t imagine what trouble she’ll create with a willing, and dreadfully young, participant.” He rubbed his temple, a headache surging. The visions—touching tools and supplies in the village—had completely drained him.
Humphrey turned on the plank seat, the setting sun casting him in shadow. “Move her here. Two bedrooms are livable.” He clicked his tongue. “Mostly.”
“And have to secure this outbuilding like we are the main house?” Julian flicked away the suggestion like an errant fly. “She’s unhappy with the amount of protection trailing after her already.”
Humphrey paused, a muscle in his jaw tensing.Uh, oh, Julian thought,here it comes. Humphrey didn’t like to give advice, which was vital to their friendship, because Julian didn’t like to take it. “Maybe, uh…you could approach her in another way. Soften her up for what you want by giving her somethingshedoes.”
Julian slipped on his waistcoat, buttoning slowly. “I’m listening.”
Humphrey withdrew a cheroot from his coat pocket and twirled it between his fingers. He insisted on Burmese-made, ridiculously expensive, and even harder to obtain. A sugary tang stained the air, overwhelming the match’s sulfur. “I only provide advice because I’ve years of diligent observation, watching the two of you circle like bleeding prizefighters since you were in the schoolroom.” He blew out a blue-black gust, gestured to the walled gardens surrounding them. “Give Scamp a project. One she accepts in coordination with any protection you chose to place on her. Make it a negotiation. Remember those? These gardens are of little importance but in need just the same. Dump it on her and have her manage. She seems to like flowers and plants and what-all if you recall.”
Julian did not recall, likely because he recalled everythingelse.
He could still smell her scent from this morning, a singular blend of floral and spice, honied and at turns biting. Just like her.
This might work. The gardens needed care, and aside from bringing her gradually back into the League, she needed something else—besideshim—to occupy her time. Their current gardener, Mr. Knotworth, a retired professor of horticulture with a vast knowledge of the occult, was revising the earl’s chronology one deliberate page at a time.
Hence abandonment of the gardens.
“Let her rejoin the League.” He stabbed his cheroot at Julian, the crimson tip glowing. “With responsibilities this time. Make her grow the hell up. You making the path so smooth for her has only made her unable to walk a less-than-smooth path.”
“I already did.” Julian shrugged into his coat and settled the lapels to rights, which was ridiculous as filthy as he was. “It’s her legacy. I’d gladly give it up, but it’s far too late for that.”
“I know, I know,” Humphrey said, smoke snaking past his face. “We’re set to conquer the world, one soothsayer at a time.”
Julian motioned Humphrey over on the seat and climbed up beside him. A ride to the house was welcome. His brain was screaming inside his skull. “With her stepping back in, who’s in grave need of healing?”
Humphrey flicked the reins, and the horse fell into a trot. Julian caught the concern that shot across his friend’s face as he studied him with a critical eye. “Aside from you?”
“Next, please.”
Humphrey chewed thoughtfully on the cheroot. “The new footman. Come from Lady Northhampton’s household. Lucky us, the first person we’ve employed actually trained for their position. He dreams one night, whatever he dreams happens the next. He tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet today and sent a serving dish to the floor. Cook looked ready to beat the life from him.” Humphrey stubbed the cheroot out on the seat and released a final wisp of smoke. “Took about a month to get him past thinking he was losing his mind, so he’s made progress. But still shaky.”
“It’s a challenge to ask Piper to solve anyone else’s dustup while she’s so busy creating her own.” Julian didn’t want to consider the feelings she aroused in him. Hepositivelydidn’t want to consider his compulsion to strip yellow silk from her body while standing in a churchyard of all places.
The urge to show her what he’d failed to that long-ago summer was powerful.