Cupboard Kisses by Barbara Metzger

Author:Barbara Metzger [Metzger, Barbara ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 978-1-61187-225-5
Publisher: Untreed Reads
Published: 2011-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

So Winstoke didn’t notice ’er ’ighness at the park. What now?”

“Oh, he noticed her all right, he just didn’t know her. Did you find anything in her rooms?”

“No papers, no cash. What are we gonna do?”

“Keep writing.”

Mac and Nick were busily engaged in a major creative effort: fabricating a new set of ledgers out of whole cloth. They worked with fresh ink, watered ink, seven different quills and two nubby pencils, taking turns with their right hands, then their left hands. They added tea and wine spatters for authenticity, and a boot-heel scuff for good measure. Their minds were so taxed with making up new debits—“Do we have fire protection, Nick?”; “Sure, there’s a bucket out back.”—that it was no wonder they couldn’t find a solution to the problem of Miss Swann.

“Business is way off, you know,” lamented Nick.

“Why? The gents don’t seem to mind using the back door and my sitting room, and the girls are being good about keeping them quiet.”

“It’s not from missin’ the parlor, you nodcock, it’s the blasted music comin’ out of it. ’Arp playin’ don’t exactly set the right mood, if you get my drift.”

“Well, I don’t know what you expect me to do. She won’t take so much as a sip of wine or tea in the evening, and I am already keeping her out of the house as much as possible. We’ve been to every church and tourist spot and regimental drill. I’ve taken her to Drury Lane and the opera and even Astley’s Amphitheater. Incidentally, you should see the wenches at Astley’s in their tights and spangles.”

“There’s a gaggle of women upstairs. Can’t you get your mind off the petticoats ’n back on business?”

“We’ll go to Vauxhall come Friday night, all right? I’ve run through a month’s pay already, entertaining her.”

“Too bad, so long’s you keep ’er out of my sight. I was thinkin’ on a more permanent solution ’owsoever.”

“I have it in mind, the dibs just haven’t been in tune. Have you seen the way she’s looking now?”

“Yeah, so she’s not something one of Boy’s cats drug in. She’s still a long Meg.”

“You’re blind. She’s exquisite. You should see the bucks ogling her.”

“I’ve seen you droolin’ at ’er. That’s enough.”

“There’s a fortune to be made off her, you just wait and see.”

“What about your plan to marry ’er ’n get hold of the deed?”

“Unless she’s got a full account somewhere, it won’t fadge. I can’t live on my income, no way it’ll cover her, too. No, she’ll have to earn her own bread.”

“Mac, you’re more of a clunch than I made you out to be, ’n that’s sayin’ a lot. She ain’t goin’ to tumble, face it.”

“She hasn’t thrown her bonnet over the windmill yet, I’ll grant you, always bringing Fanny or Marie along, but maybe Friday. You know Vauxhall, the lanterns, the music, the fireworks…the Dark Walks, heh-heh.”

“So she falls for the music ’n your pretty face. You get your itch scratched, what then?”

“Then she won’t have much choice.

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