“I t is all a vast misunderstanding, Your Grace.”
Peggy really had only one recourse—to try to get herself out of the situation some way, any way, whether it be through overt lying or through pleading. Lying had always been her best bet, and so she was going to give that a try again.
Maximus might argue, but she was exceptionally good at deception. And if she threw in a few tears, perhaps she could turn this quickly in her direction.
The dowager duchess cocked her head to the side, smiled slowly, and encouraged her with the oddest comment. “Oh, I do love a misunderstanding. Please tell me more.”
Just a moment ago, the dowager duchess had instructed her to tell the tale. Now she was going to, but not in the way Maximus thought.
Yes. She’d admitted she was a thief to him. But that didn’t mean she had to stick to that now.
So, she blinked rapidly and dug her nails into her palm, willing tears to form.
“Well, if you must know, I was in a chamber downstairs, catching my breath, in awe of the beauty of this house, and I spotted the clock.” She then wound her hands together, almost as if praying, as she enthused, “It was absolutely beautiful. I felt my soul called to it. I crossed the room, went to the mantel, and picked it up. It was so heavenly, you see.”
Peggy then looked down, doing her best to appear embarrassed. “And then, well, I was startled, and the clock tumbled toward the ground when I heard someone coming down the hallway.”
Maximus choked, “Absurd—”
The dowager duchess tsked at her grandson, then nodded to Peggy. “Do go on, my dear.”
Ignoring Maximus’s incredulous look, she drew in a shaky breath before she smoothed her hands down her gown. This was going well.
“Now, you know a young lady must not be alone with a gentleman,” she said, widening her eyes. “So I darted into the closet and, without thinking, I put the French clock in my pocket. It was all so innocent, but then your grandson, well, he found me there and naturally assumed—”
The dowager duchess lifted her bejeweled hands and began to clap. “Bravo, my dear, bravo. Beautifully done. If I had a theater, I would cast you at once.”
Peggy arched her brow.
Well, drat. She could tell what the dowager duchess was doing. The dowager duchess clearly did not believe a word that she’d said and was admiring her performance.
She blew out a breath. “Thank you, I suppose.”
The dowager’s lips turned into a bemused smile as she lowered her hands back to her book. “I am quite shocked you have not turned to the stage with those skills, my dear.”
“Never,” she said firmly. “It failed my grandmother and my mother, though it seemed to work for you. I shall not tread the boards. Nor shall I have myself prodded at every opportunity by people backstage and on stage, not to mention the audience.”
The dowager gave her a strange look. “Well, I cannot blame you for that. It is the most difficult life sometimes. But wait,” the dowager said softly. “You say your grandmother and your mother? My dear, perhaps I knew them.”
Peggy shrugged, even as her heart leapt. Could she have?
“It’s possible,” the dowager mused. “What was your grandmother’s name?” the dowager asked, inching forward on her beautifully embroidered chair.
“Liza,” she said softly. “Liza Cutmore.”
The dowager duchess pressed her lips together, clutched her book of sonnets, then let out a soft breath. “My goodness, I do know who that is. We actually shared the stage on many occasions.”
Peggy sucked in an astonished breath. “Truly?”
Her grandmother had never mentioned that. She would’ve thought her grandmother would tell everyone that she had known the famous duchess once, before she had been lifted out of the East End.
But perhaps it had been too bitter, too harsh.
“And where is she now, your grandmother?” prompted the dowager.
Peggy ground her teeth. She did not want to have to divulge the truth, but really, what else could she do? “She’s in our lodgings, Your Grace. In the East End.”
“Oh,” the dowager said, her shoulders sinking ever so slightly. “I see. Does she still work in the theater?”
This time Peggy’s eyes stung, not for effect, but because here, surrounded by gilded walls and sumptuous furnishings, it was hard not to think how much her grandmother had suffered.
“No, Your Grace, she grew too old. They did not want her anymore. She has not aged as well as you. Life has not been as kind,” Peggy added, trying not to sound terribly disdainful, but unable to keep a slightly sharp note from her voice.
Maximus cleared his throat. “I think Peggy is convinced that we are responsible for all the ills of the world.”
She shot him a troubling glance. “That is not true. But you have an unfair advantage, sir. You were born to a great amount of privilege. Do you not acknowledge it?”
“Of course I do,” he said swiftly, “but that doesn’t make me responsible—”
“Maximus,” his grandmother cut in, “you are showing what a wealthy fellow you are. You have done your duty by King and country, so you have known hardship. I shall not take that away from you, my boy. But do not put yourself on shaky ground by trying to deny the fact that people of our class have it far better than the people of Peggy’s, and that, in some ways, we do keep them down.”
Maximus nodded, oddly respectful of the older woman.
“As a future earl, my dear,” the dowager said more gently, “you should certainly be aware of that. Aren’t you?”
Peggy was astonished by the exchange. She’d never seen lords or ladies give such honest consideration to her class. When the wealthy noticed her class, it was generally to pray for them.
Maximus gave a tight nod. “You’re right, Grandmama. I simply hate to think of my family as villains of any sort.”
The dowager duchess lifted her book of sonnets, staring at it as if it held the answers to all problems, then said, “As Master Shakespeare understood, we all have a little bit of a villain in us, my dear, and we must do our best to live by the stars and not descend into the madness and cruelty that power can bring. Why do you think I have so many causes? You must take one up soon.”
“Causes?” Peggy said, scoffing. “You think that you’ll atone for—”
“Peggy, you can wish the world to be different than it is,” the dowager duchess stated simply. “But all that wishing will not change anything. Action and causes are the only thing that will do that. And so, I’m going to make you my cause.”
The dowager duchess stood up, her silk dressing gown rustling like a sea of green foam.
“I don’t want to be a cause,” Peggy retorted, squaring her shoulders. “I have a plan.”
“Oh, do you?” the dowager duchess countered, as she crossed to the mantel and leaned against the carved marble. “The plan being to rob the wealthy and hope to not get caught, strung up, and dispatched?”
Peggy cleared her throat. The dowager was direct, and it was hard to argue with her.
The dowager closed her eyes for a moment, and pain seemed to crease her brow, as if some unbidden ghost had come to her. She snapped her gaze open and swung her attention back to Peggy.
“I assume you are stealing not just to take care of yourself, but others too. And from what I can tell, your grandmother must have taught you a trick or two.”
Peggy frowned. How had she lost control of her situation so entirely?
“Ah, she did,” the dowager duchess said. “How marvelous a tutor she must be. Your accent is quite good, my dear. I confess that when I was a child, I had nothing like it. I had to work and work at it. But Liza was always a master. I thought that she had a protector years ago, but that did not work out?”
“That did not work out,” Peggy affirmed, determined not to sound bitter before the dowager duchess. “Nor did it work out for my mother. So it shall not work out for me either, which is another reason why I will not take to the stage. Thieving is much more honorable than all that nonsense.”
Maximus’s gaze swung between the two women.
Peggy found herself fascinated by the fact that he could actually listen. Most men in her experience could not and felt the need to intervene.
Then again, trying to intervene with the dowager was no doubt like trying to prise a mouse from a cat.
“Nonsense?” The dowager duchess nodded, pushing away from the fireplace. “Life can quite be nonsensical. But since your plan has failed, I have a new plan for you, my dear. One that doesn’t include dangling from the end of a rope.”
“I want to go to America,” Peggy suddenly blurted.
Maximus’s astonished gaze whipped to her then.
“Do you?” the dowager asked quite earnestly. “How wonderful. Then you must speak with my daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Westleigh. She’s an American. Actually, there are a few Americans in this family. I’m sure they could give you letters of introduction.”
“Don’t make fun of me,” Peggy ground out.
The dowager duchess stilled and crossed the ornately woven rug. “I am not making fun of you, my dear. Not at all. You have come to this house, my grandson discovered you, and I’m a believer that nothing is coincidental. You came into our lives for a reason, and…” The dowager’s face grew thoughtful as she lingered before Peggy, studying her face before whispering, “Perhaps it is but simply to wake me up. I feel as if I have been asleep about something now for a very long time, and you have—”
“Yes?” Peggy rasped, startled to find herself leaning towards the older woman, captivated by her.
A strange sheen overtook the dowager duchess’s eyes. “You have reminded me of something.”
“What?” Peggy asked.
“Who I have left behind.” The dowager’s brow furrowed. “Your grandmother is not well, is she?”
“No,” Peggy admitted, her heart twisting with the recollection of how her grandmother often cried herself to sleep with the pain in her legs. She refused to take laudanum, fearing the dark end such a drug could often bring. “She isn’t well.”
The dowager nodded. “It’s the only reason why she’d allow you to do this. I remember Liza well,” the dowager duchess said. “I cannot imagine her condoning you going out to rob unless you had no other real alternatives.”
“You’re right,” Peggy said tightly, astonished that this woman knew her grandmother so well. “She even tried to convince me not to come tonight. She said it was bad luck. A button popped off my gown.”
“Oh dear,” the dowager exclaimed. “That is bad luck, and yet you came anyway. Why?”
Peggy stared at the older woman, but then she could not stop herself from looking at Maximus. There was something powerful about him, seductive, pulling her towards him with his glance. “Because if one isn’t careful, everything shall look like bad luck and one shall never move forward. I am moving forward in this life. No matter what you lot do.”
“Good,” the dowager duchess announced. “Maximus, take her downstairs and install her in your rooms. I have an idea about how we can use our Peggy here.”
“My what?” Maximus blurted.
“I will not be used,” Peggy said.
The dowager duchess closed the short distance between them, lifted her beringed hand, gently touched Peggy’s cheek, and gazed into her eyes. The long look was haunting, touching the core of her soul.
It was like coming face to face with the mythical oracles of old, and Peggy could not breathe.
She found herself overwhelmed, astonished really, by the magnificence of this woman’s presence, and she suddenly understood why her grandmother had not become a duchess, or her mother, and why they had not been great stage actresses. The dowager duchess had something about her that was completely inexplicable, something powerful, something undeniable. It was an otherworldly presence in the room, shining on every surface and filling her up with hope. But Peggy had not known hope in a very long time, and she would not hope on anything that was outside of herself. Such things only led to disappointment.
“I’m not going anywhere with him,” she gritted.
“Oh really?” the dowager duchess asked, lowering hand but not backing down. “Why?”
“Because he’s a rogue.”
“Only a little bit of one,” the dowager said as if she was quite pleased. Then her eyes widened as if an idea struck her. “You’re his cause too, I think, Peggy. Isn’t that right, Maximus?”
Maximus gave her a long, slow look, and a muscle tightened in his jaw. “I’m not about to let her out of here,” he said, “if that’s what you’re asking, Grandmama. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if she went out and was killed for thieving. As she says, it is apparently our responsibility that her family is in this state. The least we can do is help her out of her situation.”
“Bravo, my darling. That’s exactly what I think too. Take her to your rooms and keep her there until my plan is fully formed.”
“And if she tries to escape?” Maximus asked.
“You’ll stay in the room with her, of course.”
“He shall do no such thing,” Peggy bit out, even as the idea of being so close to such a powerful, thrilling man charged through her, sparking feelings she’d been certain that she’d destroyed years ago.
“Are you afraid of him?”
Peggy huffed out a breath. “Him? No. I can tell he’s not one of those sorts. But I do not allow gentlemen to sleep in my room. Even if it is to my advantage. I’m not like that,” Peggy said. “That is what people like—”
“Like whom?” the dowager duchess challenged.
Peggy lifted her chin and suddenly said with a sort of bold defiance that she was astonished by, “You, Your Grace.”
The dowager duchess’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you have definitely come to us for a reason, my dear. What a treasure you are. You came here trying to take something, but in fact, you’re giving it instead. Go with him, or else your evening will get very difficult indeed.”
“So you will throw me in jail?”
“No, Peggy. But our family is quite interesting, and we have other ways of getting you to do what we wish, and just about everyone always does what we wish.”
Peggy narrowed her eyes, confused, desperately trying to work out what was happening. “Because you’re so coercive?”
“No,” the dowager replied, “because we are so appealing. Now go.”
And with that, she realized she was being dismissed.
Maximus held his hand out to her. Again. She eyed it and gave a tight shake of her head.
“Hand or shoulder,” Maximus said.
A shiver traveled through her…but not out of fear. There had been something powerful about the way he’d swept her up, about the way he was so insistent on taking care of her, though she simply wished he’d let her go.
“Oh, my darling,” the dowager tutted. “Don’t play Petruchio.”
Maximus’s eyes danced with some indescribable determination. “I will be Petruchio to her Kate. She refuses to see what will help her. It’s bloody infuriating. Besides, she’s certainly capable, Grandmama. You should have seen her put up a fight downstairs.”
“You must make certain she understands that she does have power too, my dear, or it will never work out.”
Maximus frowned. “Work out?” he said.
Then his grandmother threw back her head and began to laugh. “I know why she’s here, Maximus, but I don’t think you do. Not yet. But don’t worry. You will.”
Peggy looked from Maximus to his grandmother. What the bloody hell were they talking about?
She’d come here to steal a clock. That’s what she’d come for. She’d come here for funds to America. What else could they possibly be prattling on about?
Well, he might think that he was going to stay with her this night in his room, but she would be no prisoner. There was always a way out. Of that, she was sure.