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The Greekscowled. "Nay. I told you it was a wasted trip. "
"I see. Well, that shall be our first order of business this morning, then, " shedecided solemnly, rising to her feet.
"What? " Valoreeasked suspiciously, tearingher gaze fromthe food.
"Going out to purchasesome proper makeup. We cannothave another nightlike your last. " Sheheadedfor thedoor, but paused beside Henry. "Did itreallyfall intoLadyBeecham's glass? "
Grimacing, Henry nodded. Megshook her head, amusement twinkling in her eyes briefly before she sobered again and ordered, "You'dbest fetchsomeof that gold, Henry. We shall needit. "She sailedthrough the door then, adding, "Comealong, Valoree. The bread will still be there whenwe return. "
"Notbloodylikely with Bull and One-Eye around, " Valoree muttered, snatching upthe biggest loaf, and a good-sized hunk of cheese, before following thewoman. Asshe passed afrowning Henry, she said sweetly, "Ye'd best befetchingsomeof that there gold, Henry. Or have ye changed yer mind and decided wecan return tothesea, after all? "
The last part was more a hope than anything else. Valoree would havedearlyloved togiveupthis humiliating venture and returnto their liveson thesea, butshekneweven as she voiced the words that none of the men was likelyto give up yet. She figured she hada great deal more humiliationleft to sufferbefore they wouldcallit quits. Andwhy not? They weren't the ones having to suffer.
"Whichdo youlike best, Valoree? "
Sighing, Valoree peered at the small pots of red color and frowned. She did not havemuch patience at the best of times, and thislittle expeditionseemedto be evaporating what tiny bit she did have ratherquickly. They were supposed tohave comein searchof makeup. Andthey were. . . now. Finally. But they had left the town house several hours ago.
First, "AuntMeg" had insisted onastop atthe tailor's to see about those dresses Henry had gone to order. Despite her irritation, Valoree hadto admit that at least that had proved to be an intelligent move. The little land-rat had horrible taste, andthe dresses he had decided on for her had all been atrocious. They werefrilly, fluffy, busy littledressesthathad made Valoree curse a blue streak when she saw the designs. He apparently didn't realize she was not afrilly, fluffy sort of woman. The tailor was an idiot. She had told himsoas she hadrippedup the designs he had made, then spent a grimhourhanging over his shoulder and directed him in sketching more acceptable gowns, slapping himin thehead orbellowingin his earevery time he hadtriedto sneak in aruffle or frill.
They had all - Meg, Valoree, and the tailor - been relieved when thatwas over. But then Valoreehad climbed out of the carriage at the next stop to find they were at a perfumery.
Enteringthe smelly placehad given her an immediate headache, one that had stayedwith herthroughout the hour of sniffing and sampling Meg forced on her. The woman favored flowery odors, forever shoving them under Valoree's beleaguered nose until she'd finallyorderedHenry to buy one of them forMeg to get her toleave off.
The woman had fairly beamed at the gift, though Henry had been less than pleased. Still, they had both left her alone to choose her own fragrance then. She had made her choice relatively quickly, picking one that reminded her of tropical breezes andthe smell of the ship's holdafter they took a galleon rich inspices. Meg had looked doubtful ather choice, but Henry hadproclaimed it nectar and paid for it alittle more happilythan hehad Meg's.
Now here they were, finallyat themakeupshop. But thispart of the expedition wasgoing nofasterthantherest of the trip.
They had spenthalf anhour just choosing a foundation, the white base thatwas spread over a woman's face, neck, and bosom to hide skin problemsor scars from thepox. And while Valoreedid nothaveeither of thoseproblems, due to her yearsof sea and sun she had a slighttan - despite the captain's hatshe alwayswore.
And tans simply were not the thing at court. Ladieswere tohave lily white skin androugedcheeksand lips.
A foundation madeof white leadandvinegarhadbeen what the shopkeeper obviously favored, but Valoree had refused to even consider it, no matter how many times he insisteditwasthe best. She hadheardthat the concoction made the skinshrivel and turngray. When he hadfinallygiven up on tryingto sell her that, heturnedto a longdescription of the other offerings he had; pastes made up of alum andtin ash, others featuring sulfur. She had chosen onewith an egg white-and-talc base and stood firm on itdespite his effortsto steer her back to the lead and vinegar.
Now they had moved on to thefucus, as he kept calling it - a most unattractivename for the variety of red face paints that were used on both the cheeks and lips. Once again he was insisting on describing their contents. There were madder-, cochineal-, and ocher-based compounds among them, but vermilion, made up of mercuric sulfide, was the one he kept drawing theirattention to.
Valoree groaned. There were still kohl and concoctions to brightentheeyes to get through yet. Also, Valoree seemed to recall Meg muttering something about a wig. She envisioned hoursofthis nonsense ahead, and, frankly, she had already had morethan enough. It was nearly the nooning hourandshe was dyingofthirst. She hadn't had anything to drink since the night before, and the fact thatshe had eatenthe whole loaf of bread as well as the chunk of cheese in the carriage, polishingoffa good portionofeach on the way from the town house, thenfinishing them betweenshops, didn't help.
"Well? Do anyof themappeal to you? "Meg asked.
Sighing, Valoree focused on the paintpots again, then shook herhead. "I donot care. "
"Of course youdo, dear. You - "
"Nay. I don't, " Valoree assured the woman grimly. "I am hungryand - "
"How canyou be hungry? " Henry asked peevishly. "You ate that whole loaf of bread yerself. "
Valoree's mouth began to twitch at theresentmentintheold man's voice. She had been aware of his hungry-eyedglancesat her loaf and cheese, but had ignoredthem, still irritated that he'd reneged on his claim last night that they wouldgive up this fool's errand of trying tofinda husband.
Forcing heramusement aside, Valoree shrugged. "Well, I am.
AndIam also thirsty. Ihave not had a droptodrink since last night. So thetwo of you can make the choices, " she announced, turning toward thedoor. "Iam in searchof. . . refreshment. " She said the word dryly as she walked out of the shop, knowing Henry wouldgather her true meaning. She wanted a damn drink.
A realdrink. Rum, or whiskey, or - "Ah, Lady Ainsley. What asurprise. "
Valoree gasped and stepped to theside to avoid collidingwith Lord Thurborne as the man suddenly appearedbeforeher, but she did not slowher step. Shewas too damned thirsty to be bothered withthe irritating nobleman. Rather than leavingher to herown devices, the pestfell quickly into step beside her.
"I see I caught you without your blade again, " he saidlightly, reminding her ofher lastcomment the night before. She hadbeen frustratedto find the knife missing whenshe had finally gained the wall, but ithadonly been knocked off to landon theother side. She had snatched it up on her wayto the carriage.
"Aye. More's the pity, "she muttered now.
'Then I suppose I am safe, " he teased. Then, before she could comment, he asked, "Where is it we are headed exactly? "
"Iam headed fora tav - " Catching herself, she cleared her throatand tried for a less irritated and moreladylike answer. "I am searching foran establishment in which Imightpartake of refreshment. "
"Alone? "
Valoree rolled her eyesatthequestion. She had been doing things alone since she was eleven. Disguised asa boy, mindyou, but alone nonetheless. Ladies, of course, would not take refreshment unescorted - especiallyin this lessthan idealpart of town. Damn! The rickety littleshop that Meg haddirected them to was in an area that had once been quite upmarket and expensive, butthat was years earlier. Now the buildings were crumbling and the shops were gradually moving out, a less pleasantelement moving in.
"I am not alone, " she told him grimly. "My aunt anduncleare in the shopIjust left, and my men. . . servants. . . mans
ervants. . .
are right there. "She glanced toward theircarriage as she gestured to it, thenpaused, for while Skully still satupon thedriver's seat, One-Eye was nolonger onthefootman's stand.
A movement out of the cornerof her eye drew her attention to the manstanding a step or two behind Lord Thurborne. It was One-Eye, and he had a solemn expression on his face as he attemptedtolook the part of a footman. Impossible, of course, despite the pink livery he wore. The pink merely seemed to emphasize his long, shaggyblack hair, his eyepatch, andthe fact that he was armedto the teeth. Two flintlock pistols stuck out of his pants, his cutlasshung sharp andwicked at hisside, and a leatherstrap hehad fashioned yearsago hadbeen slungover his head and hung from one shoulder blade to his waist on the opposite side. It waspacked full of blades, all in varying sizes and shapes. He lookedlike what he was:a pirate who was deadly withknives. But that didn't alarmValoree nearly as muchasthe factthat he had come downoff of his perch on the carriage to follow her. As if she needed protecting like any other lady! Fear rippledthrough her atthe damage that wasbeingdone to her image as a strong and capable captain. None of the men would have considered her inneed of protecting prior to this nonsense. None of them but Henry had even known shewas a woman before they'd arrived in London! Until thenthey had all stillsupposedher tobe Jeremy's younger brother, about to claim hisestates andthetitle of lord.
"My lady? "
Valoree glanced at Thurbornebriefly, herbreath comingout on a small sigh. "I am sorry, my lord. Wait here a moment, please, "
she ordered. Then steppingpast him, she caught One-Eyebythe arm and jerked him aroundto lead him back to the carriage.
"What do you think ye're doing? I don't need protecting, One-Eye, I may be wearin' a dress, but that don't mean I'm suddenly helpless. I - "
"Iknow that. "
His sharpwordssilencedher as she paused bythe carriage, and she facedhim questioningly.
"Well, " he explained, "Iseen a lot of ladiesout andabout since we got here, andnone of 'emseems to go anywhere without an older lady or aservantfollowingher about like a pup. So when ye came out o'the shop without Meg orHenry, I thought I'd best follow ye . . . For appearance' sake. "
"I see. " She sighed, relief and gratitude overwhelming her brieflyso that she had to turn her head awayin alarm tohidethe moisture that suddenly dampened her eyes. What the devil was going on here? she wondered with dismay. She hadn't cried since Jeremy's death, yet hereshewas getting all watery just because One-Eye didn't see her as helpless. Brilliant! If this wasaside effect of wearing a damn dress, she'd never put one on again once she finished this business.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Valoree blinked her eyes rapidly until mostof themoisture was dispersed, assuring herself that there was nothing to get upset about here. One-Eye was following her around for appearance' sake, not because he suddenlysawher as a weak woman. Her title as captain wasstill safe. She hesitated toexamine why that should relieve her so, except thather ship and crewwere all she really had in the world right now, and maybe all sheeverwould have, unless shefound a husband and had achild to claimher homeagain.
Clearingher throat, she turnedback to One-Eye. "Well, now I haveLord Thurborne toescort me. You should remain here. But take offthose damnweapons. "
"Take'em off? " he cried.
"Aye. This is London, not the high seas. You just make yourselflook like a silly pinkpirate withthem. Take 'em off and stick themunder the driver's seat or something. "
"All of 'em? "
Valoree wasabout to say "aye, all of them, " when she caught thepanic inhis eyes. The expression made her think for thefirst timethatshe mightnot be theonly one feeling like afish out of water, sufferingthe insecurity of new roles and such. No doubt going from a swaggeringswashbuckler to a pink-clad footman was a difficult transition to make. Sighing, she shook her head.
"One pistolandtwo of the smallerblades you can keep, but stick 'em in the top of your breeches and close yourcoat over them. " Shegesturedto the pinklivery jacket he had left undone, and pushed backthe sides to reveal thewhite top and weapons beneath. "Justput the others somewhere out ofsight, butcloseat hand. "
"Aye, Captain, " hesaid, apparently relieved.
"Good . . . And tieyour hair back, " she instructed.
One-Eye's handwent tohis long black locks in alarm. Valoree sighed. "Only when you are out and about as a footman. Of course, youmay wearit as you liketherest of the time. "
Sighing, he nodded reluctantly, and Valoree grimaced sympathetically, then glanced toward the man now stepping down from the carriage to join them. Her eyebrows rose. His namewas No-Nose, which came from the fact thathe had no nose, of course. Well, not really muchofa nose anyway. It had been shot off long ago whilehe wasa merchant seaman. The ship he had ridden withhadbeen under attack bySpanish piratesat thetime. Once he had healed, he had returned to his ship, butits captain had told him he wasn't needed anymore. He'd been replaced; noone wanted to look onhis uglymug.
He was one of themen Valoreeand Henry hadhired on to replace the crew members who had died with her brother.
Neither of them had cared thathe washorribly disfigured. All they had caredabout was that he knew his businessand did it well. Yetshe wished he hadn'tbeen the one driving today. She hadn't really paidattention towho was driving, simply assuming it was Skully. Now she wished hewere Skully. She didn't care aboutthe man's nose so much, but she did care that he had long hair. It was a limp, greasy brown, and he too was armedtothe teeth - his rotten, half-missing teeth. His presence brought a scowl to herface. "What thehell are you doing here? I thought you were still ontheship. "