Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack by Sally Mackenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

tighter. “Maybe a dress shop. I’d like to work in a dress shop. I’m good with a needle, I am.”
    A dress shop. Where was he going to find a dress shop that would hire the likes of Belinda?
    Well, it was worth a try. At least in a dress shop she’d be less likely to encounter men looking for her other skills. “Very well, I’ll see what I can do. Where are you staying?”
    Belinda looked down and shifted her weight. “Here and there.”
    Which meant the streets, an especially dangerous choice now that someone was cutting women’s throats. He fished some coins out of his purse. “Here. Meg at The Spotted Dog will put you up for a day or two.”
    “Thank ye, milord.” She stuffed the money down the front of her dress as she sniffed. “If Mother Wilton weren’t so high and mighty—”
    “Belinda, stop. You know you’re too old for this line of work.”
    “Gammon! A woman’s never too old fer fun”—she grinned, showing a mouthful of yellowed, broken, or absent teeth—“as I’d be ’appy to show ye or the fine lad who was with ye.”
    “Was?” He turned. Bloody hell, Francis wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He wouldn’t have—
    He had. The damn, disobedient whelp was over at number thirty-four, talking to what must be the landlady of his brother’s boardinghouse.
     
     
    The tall, bony, white-haired woman who’d finally opened the door after Frances’s increasingly desperate knocks glared at her. “What do ye want?”
    “I’m here to see my brother, Frederick Hadley.”
    The woman’s glare turned to a scowl. “He ain’t here.” She started to close the door.
    Frances lunged to catch it. “What? But I’m quite sure this is his address.”
    “ Was his address. He married and moved out last week.” The landlady tugged on the door again, but Frances was stronger.
    “Married?”
    “Yes, married. And I don’t rent to no married fellows. Only single men—and no female visitors allowed. There’s enough fornication on this street without my inviting it under me own roof. Will you let me close this door?”
    “You must be mistaken.” The woman could not be referring to Frederick.
    “I am not.” The landlady sniffed disdainfully. “He took up with some theater trollop. Good riddance, I say—and good day to you.” She tugged on the door once more, harder this time. “Let go!”
    From the corner of her eye, Frances saw Jack approaching. He did not look at all pleased with her. “Did he say where he was moving?”
    “No, and I didn’t ask. Now if you don’t let go at once, I’ll call the bloody watch.”
    Frances doubted the watch was in hailing distance, but it was clear the landlady couldn’t help her, and Jack had almost reached them. She did not want him hearing her real family name.
    “Very well.” She stepped back. “Thank yo—”
    The woman slammed the door in her face.
     
     
    Jack reached Francis right after the door banged shut. He grabbed the boy’s arm and shook it. “What do you mean—”
    He stopped. Francis’s face was red with anger. “What’s the matter? Shall I break the door down? I can force our way in if you need me to do so.”
    “No. It doesn’t matter.”
    “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Isn’t this where your brother lives?”
    “Lived. He got married.”
    Oh, damn. He’d been afraid something like this would happen. “And, er, you didn’t know anything about it?”
    Francis shook his head.
    “I see.” Actually, he didn’t see. He didn’t live in his brothers’ pockets, but he couldn’t imagine not knowing if one of them was undertaking something so significant as marriage. “But you must have known he was betrothed?”
    “No. I had no idea. Frederick never wrote, at least not to me.” Francis’s jaw hardened. “He should have written. I had a right to know, blast it.”
    “Yes, you did.” Jack led him back to the street. Poor boy. He probably hero-worshipped his brother. There were only four years between Jack