Free Lady in Green by Bárbara Metzger Page B

chickie.”
    “Hmm,” Annalise answered, peering in the corners of the stable behind the town house, where Rob was lovingly currying the horses he’d selected for Lord Gardiner’s new landau. The coach was comfortable but undistinguished, just the way the earl wanted it, and the grays weren’t flashy, either, just the way Rob wanted them. He’d picked the geldings more for strength and stamina, just in case he and Henny and Missy had to show London their heels in a hurry. It didn’t appear that Miss Annalise, Annie as he’d better remember, was worried. “Get a good night’s rest?”
    “The best in ages.”
    Rob figured he’d give his eyeteeth to know what went on after he went to bed last night. The dolly-mop he drove home this morning had hardly enough energy to make it up her stairs. Seemed happy though, and gave him a tip. Now, here was their Annie looking merry as a grig. It didn’t figure after the fuss she’d made yesterday. “Guess you’ve got it all straight in your head now about Lord Gardiner and his bits o’ fluff, eh?”
    “You might say I am resolved.”
    “That’s all right, then,” Rob said, returning his attention to the horses. But Annalise was shifting bales of hay. “Did you want something there, chickie?”
    As nonchalantly as possible, she answered, “Oh, no, I’m just trying to catch mice. You wouldn’t want any in here with these beauties, would you?” She came over and stroked one velvety nose.
    Rob looked across the gray’s broad back and saw that she had an old cheese box in one hand and a broom by her side. He shrugged. Never could figure women. “Got a message from the gov’nor this mornin’. Company again tonight.”
    “The same woman?” she asked sharply. The horse stamped its feet. “Sorry, boy. Corinne again?” Rob shook his head. “No, this one lives at St. James’s Street. He says to ask for Catherine.”
    “But St. James’s is where all the men’s clubs are. Ladies cannot even walk there!”
    “Didn’t suppose she was no lady.”
    “And I didn’t suppose she was a…a dealer or something from a gambling den. Actresses and dancers are bad enough.”
    He spit a stream of tobacco juice out the door. “Could be worse. Lot of high-priced fancy houses are set up near where the gents are like to be.” The cheese box hit the floor. “F-fancy houses? You mean…?”
    “Ain’t for me to say.” He looked closely at her, close enough to see that red was creeping into her cheeks, even under the yellowish powder she wore on top of her own still-sickly color. “And ain’t for you to say, neither!”
    “I do not intend to speak one word to that reprobate who calls himself a gentleman,” she snapped back, snatching up her broom and the empty crate. “I intend to find me a mouse. No, a rat. The bigger the better.”
    Rob could only scratch his head at that. “I know Henny ain’t goin’ to let you serve up any rodents on the earl’s dish, so I don’t need to know nothin’ more. ’Sides, I misdoubt you’ll find any vermin here. I got me a ratter.” He whistled, and a small dog trotted into the stable.
    Annalise took off her dark glasses and inspected the ragged little mongrel, who was busy scratching its ear. “That? It looks more like an overgrown rat than anything. No, it looks just like a fur muff I once had that the moths got into.”
    “Genuine Clyde terrier he is, from Scotland. Guaranteed to catch mice.”
    “Catch fleas more like.” She laughed as the dog performed acrobatics to get at an itch near its tail. “Wherever did you find it?”
    Rob gave the horse’s rump a pat. “I didn’t need to go lookin’ for him, I swear. Poor tyke must of been livin’ off the rats here after Lady Ros cleared out. He ain’t skin and bones, but he was happy enough for a biscuit and gravy. I mean to give him a bath this afternoon when I wash the carriage. Get rid of some of his stowaways, then I figure Henny won’t mind him in the kitchen.”
    Gold