Page 13 of Twice Upon a Midnight

In other words…when she couldn’t find her masked man, Papa expected her to avail herself to other suitors. Ella couldn’t bring herself to give the answer he wanted because she would have no choice but to lie. No other man had caught her attention.

Instead she lowered her gaze to her plate.

Papa excused himself, and her mother waved to acknowledge his parting comment that he was going to White’s and wouldn’t return until dinner. Her attention was on Ella and the clues to Spenser’s true identity. Ella was certain both she and Mama hoped for the exact same thing—that looking for him wouldn’t be a wild goose chase.

“Now,” her mother said, rubbing her hands together in a gesture of determination. “How shall we begin our hunt?”

Ella smiled at Mama’s slip of the tongue. “I think you meansearch.”

Mama smiled like a cat who’d gotten into the cream and reached for her cup of chocolate. “My dear, where men are involved, it isalwaysa hunt.” She pointed her cup at Ella. “Now, how shall we begin?”

CHAPTER SIX

“H

elp yourself to breakfast.” Spenser handed to Martin the small, wrapped package he’d brought, then collapsed into a reading chair. He frowned into the cold fire grate and made a mental note to have a bucket of coal delivered.

But his worry about Martin extended beyond fuel for a fire. A quick glance at the dish dresser behind the small table told him that his friend didn’t have much to eat, given all the empty bowls and baskets lining the shelves…and given Martin’s bright smile when he unwrapped the package and found sweet rolls, pieces of dried beef, and fruits.

“Ah! Now look at what you’ve done.” Martin admonished Spenser for the gift with a shake of his finger, but the scolding didn’t last long as he set the bounty on the table and quickly began to dole out two plates’ worth of food for their breakfast, even though Spenser wouldn’t touch a bite. He wanted all of it to go into Martin’s belly. “You shouldn’t have done this. I’ve got enough coin to feed myself.”

Yet he popped one of the plump figs into his mouth and made anhmmmsound between chews.

“My favorite!” He gave Spenser a wink. “Well, perhaps you can bringthesewith you whenever you’d like.”

With a tired smile, Spenser stretched out his long legs and swept a look around. The room above the old warehouse in Cheapside was in a neighborhood of questionable safety at best, having seen its best days at least twenty years prior, in a building that hadn’t seen its best days since the first King George settled onto the throne. A narrow bed took up one corner, but at least it was covered in thick blankets, a down coverlet, and mattress toppers to keep Martin’s old bones warm. The round table and dish dresser filled the other corner, and beneath the window was a desk covered with books and stacks of papers, as if Martin spent his days truly working there. Two trunks along the rear wall and a coarse knotted-rag rug beneath the chair where Spenser now sat were the only other furnishings.

If Martin had any coin, he certainly wasn’t using it to improve his living conditions.

“Come eat—eat!” Martin waved Spenser over to the table.

Spenser shook his head. “You go ahead. I had one of Mrs. Calloway’s buns this morning on the way over.”

“You’re not the only man who’s had his hands on Mrs. Calloway’s buns!”

He gave a laugh at his own dirty joke, and Spenser simply sighed. Martin was always true to form.

“What brings you here, eh?” Martin grabbed one of the sweet rolls and plopped down on the wooden chair at the table. “Come to give me a report about your night at the ball?” He pointed the roll at Spenser. “You’re not in Newgate for trespassing, so I gather it went well.”

Very.Yet Spenser shrugged. “Mostly dull. Like all the aristocrats who attend those things.”

“But you drank a glass of fine port for your trouble?”

“Or two.”

Martin laughed around the bite of roll in his mouth. “Did you have your waltz, too?”

He smiled at the memory. “Yes, I did.”

“Well then!” Martin exclaimed mischievously as he reached for a piece of beef. “Tell me all about her. Spare no details.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Not much he waswillingto tell anyway. “I ran into her in the gardens.”Literally.“We discussed poetry and literature. I asked her to dance, and she said yes.”She danced like an angel, so soft and vibrant in my arms, so sweet and special. And when I kissed her, the world stopped, all except my heart, which pounded so furiously I’m certain she heard it.“Then I came home.”

Martin let out a long sigh. “Don’t start a career as a card sharp.”

Spenser blinked at that non sequitur. “Pardon?”

“You might be a good businessman, Spenser Rhodes,” the old man said, “but you’re a terrible liar. Far more went on than what you’re sharing.”