Page 98 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“Unless they’re involved in this treason case. Personally.”
“So it’s Mrs. Giffard, Mrs. Camville, or Lady Blount who holds the key,” mused Edward.
“You really rogered every wife in your regiment?” asked Tabby doubtfully. “Didn’t you need to…shoot things occasionally?”
“Oh, I shot plenty of loads while in Portugal,” muttered Edward.
Tabby groaned and slapped the table. “Think! Maybe if we can find out which wives you meddled with, we can look closer at a jealous husband.”
Edward regarded the pages and then slumped in his chair. “I don’t have the slightest idea,” he said. “I keep those coded notes now so I can recall my activities, but in those days, I was sticking my cock anywhere it was invited.”
“You didn’t keep a diary?”
“A diary?” he exclaimed. “If so, the courts would have seized it as evidence several times over in divorce cases. Most nights, I went to bed too drunk on fucking and Madeira to scratch out words.”
“If you saw the ladies, do you think you’d know them?” asked Tabby, frowning at the names.
“I’d likely recognize them best without their dresses, but failing that, I suppose I could look at their faces and try to remember.”
Tabby nodded and rose, swaying on her feet when she first stood.
“Boots too large?” asked Edward.
“I’m tired,” she admitted. “Feed me a meat pie and take me home.”
“Gladly,” he said, grabbing his hat and gloves.
Chapter 5
On the way backfrom visiting the pie man, Edward recalled what he’d wanted to say to Tabby.
“Listen,” he said, squinting at the setting sun as they dodged horse shite in the street while finding their way to the new lodgings. “I don’t have much, but since Tencendor…”
“Since you sold your horse to buy me,” she filled in.
“Yes. Since then, I have some coin. More than usual.”
Tabby nodded.
“You never had a sweetheart or someone who wanted to marry you?” he asked.
Her head jerked to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“You never had a beau? Someone who knew you were Tabitha?”
“No,” she said. “I have about as many friends as you do.”
Not many. Damn.
“It’s just that,” he said, stepping around a cart, “you don’t have to carry on with this scheme. Not if you don’t want to.”
“This scheme.”
“Becoming a courtesan. I can give you some money for you to get married so you can live happily. None of this playing lady nonsense or learning not to say ‘rogering’ business. You could be happy.”
“Could I?” she asked, her voice curiously even.
“Yes, I know plenty of happy wives! You’re even a virgin! Why, we could find you any number of suitable husbands in the market right now.”
