Page 97 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“But if I’m a perfect lady, why wouldn’t he go to the lady he already has?” she asked. “The one he’s already keeping in furs and chocolate?”
“You shouldappeara lady. The moment the door to the outside world closes, you may act like the veriest little slut, if you sodesire. But the more you play a lady, the greater the stacks of banknotes and jewels in your strongbox.”
Neither of them noticed that they’d drawn closer on the bench, their hips resting alongside each other and noses almost touching. If they had noticed it, they might have waved it away as an attempt to stay warm in the wind or some other nonsense.
“So men visit courtesans and expect them to behave like ladies,” said Tabby, struggling to make sense of things. “And other men roger those men’s wives and treat them like harlots.”
Edward considered her statement and nodded. “That’s more or less true, yes.”
“Then why don’t men just marry their mistresses or roger their wives like they want? Rather like having more than one pair of boots, isn’t it?”
“Well, aristocratsdohave more than one pair of boots.”
Tabby kicked the dirt. “Silly.”
“So says the person who sold the pair of boots I gave her! And you’re wearing my second pair right now!”
She slumped on the bench. “I’m sorry, Edward,” she said. “And I’m sorry you had to sell Tencendor. I’m sorry I’m such a silly—”
“There now,” he said, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders and tugging her close. Damn anyone who might look their way and see two men in an embrace; the wind was something fierce today.
“It’s just, I was trying to stay your friend! Everything was changing, and then I woke up and the doctor knew I wasn’t Tobias and—”
Edward tugged her even closer. “I won’t hear another word of it.”
“But I—”
“The one thing we did right in the 10th was to never quit marching. Or in our case, riding. Always keep the boots or horse in motion. You listening to me? We will not set up camp in this place. We’re passing through.”
Tabby looked about. “I don’t think we can sleep in the park, Dick Stone.”
“It’s a metaphor,” he said, his arms outstretched. “We need to carry on with our lives.”
“Like solving who set you up for treason,” she said.
“Like solving—now see here, Tabitha!” he howled as she took off at a run while he chased her, not giving a single damn who saw them playing like children.
***
In Dick Stone’s familiar office at the back of Mr. Rymer’s barber shop, Edward and Tabby stuck their heads together again to make sense of those pages of notes.
“If the villain is this Portuguese judge man—”
“It’s pointless to try to solve the case from London, yes,” said Edward, nodding his head in agreement.
“Why do you think your da wrote about these three army men?” asked Tabby, consulting the names. “The colonel, the major, and the captain.”
Edward leaned back in his chair and thought hard while taking a sip of water from the silver flask that used to be Tabby’s. She swiped it from him when he was done and took her own drink.
“Now, who said I wanted to share?” he asked.
“That’s it!” she cried, pointing to the list. “Ladies don’t have names, not written down and important.”
“Well…”
“Is your da the sort that would think so much about ladies if they weren’t important?”
“He doesn’t think anyone is important,” Edward scoffed.
