Jack of Clubs by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online Page A

fidelity was for sale to the highest bidder. She was not even faithful to her own name, so what should she care about his? “Would you wait outside, Rochelle? This will not take long.”
    â€œWhat, you mean to listen to some gentry mort’s lies? That’s the oldest trick in the books, Jacko, claiming some brat needs your blessings and your blunt. You’re too downy a cove to fall for that faradiddle, so come on, love. I’m hungry.”
    Miss Silver did not try to refute Rochelle’s accusations. She did not retreat, either, which the soldier in Jack could not help admiring.
    â€œDowns,” he said, “will you be so good as to escort Mademoiselle Poitier to dinner? I made early reservations at the Grand Hotel.”
    Downs looked as if he’d rather go back to the front, facing French cannons. He gulped and nodded, holding out his arm. Rochelle did not accept it. A lowly clerk? A mere former lieutenant? A cripple with a limp? She walked past him, the broken feather tickling her nose, and dog hairs showing on the back of her gown from her encounter with the carpet.
    Jack could hear her angry footsteps—and Downs’s halting gait hurrying to keep up—all through the waiting room. The outer door slammed. He winced, knowing he would be paying for that later.
    â€œVery well, Miss Silver, you have cost me a dinner and a pleasant companion. Now what is this private matter? And it had better be good, or I will call the Watch and have you taken off to jail, I swear I will. What is this about a child?”
    The child had been awakened by the slamming door. Now she stood in the entrance to Jack’s office rubbing her eyes, dragging a lady’s cloak behind her. “I told you we were not staying,” she said.
    Miss Silver muttered something incomprehensible, and possibly blasphemous, under her breath, but made the introductions. “Captain Endicott, may I present Miss Harriet Hildebrand, your ward.”
    â€œHildebrand, you say? Nelson Hildebrand of Northampshire? Damn if she is not his butter stamp with that curly red mop and that space between her front tee—My ward?”
    â€œCaptain Hildebrand named you as Miss Hildebrand’s guardian,” Allie lied. It was growing dark. This was not entirely the non sequitur it sounded. She was willing to do nearly anything to have this settled before night fell. If she was out in the streets, alone, she wanted to see where she was going.
    Jack sank back onto his seat, belatedly remembering to offer the opposing chair to Miss Silver. “No, he must have meant my brother, the earl. We all grew up together, but Ace was always the respectable, responsible one of us.”
    â€œYou are Jonathan Endicott?”
    Jack heard his name reverberate like a death knell. “It’s only till Hildebrand comes back from the army, right?”
    Miss Silver shook her head and lowered her eyes. “He is not coming back. I am sorry.”
    â€œHe was a good man,” Jack said. “I will miss him.” Then he remembered hearing the stories about Hildebrand’s wife and brother. Who hadn’t heard them? “Gads, the poor poppet.”
    The poor poppet had sat down on the floor next to the dog, an old hound of some sort that had gone back to sleep near the fire after his one feeble effort at protecting his household.
    â€œDo not bother the dog,” Miss Silver called.
    â€œOh, old Joker is as gentle as a kitten. He would never hurt a little girl.”
    â€œI was not worried about the little girl,” Miss Silver murmured. Then she proceeded to explain about Lord and Lady Hildebrand, Mrs. Semple and the school—without mentioning the suspicious nature of the fire that had burned down the place—and the solicitor.
    â€œYou say Hildebrand named me in his will?”
    â€œI saw it with my own eyes. You can see for yourself at Mr. Burquist’s office tomorrow. That is, on Monday, tomorrow