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This was no place for her, but curiosity nipped at her. Disguised as a lad, she could take a look and see just what went on in the middle of the night at such a place.
She peeked into the first galley. In spite of the fact that she had heard tales of what went on late at night in such establishments, she had never witnessed it first hand. She watched as a large gruff man grabbed a buxom lady and sat her on his lap. They laughed, threw down their drinks and kissed with vigor.
Star couldn’t take her eyes off the young couple. When the man stuffed his large hand into the bodice of the woman’s gown, Star was struck by the sure stirring she experienced. In spite of the fact that she told herself this was all very wickedly outrageous and that she must not watch such things, she was all too fascinated to do anything but watch. She simply couldn’t tear her eyes away from them as they engaged in what she and her friends always talked about in secret—lusty romance.
“You are too young for that and too young to be here,” said a deep male voice at her back.
Startled she spun around before she could think better of it and thanked providence that her hood was pulled low over her wool capped head. She stared into a pair of bright, slightly amused eyes and decided the only thing she could do was say nothing, so she shrugged and did just that.
“What are you doing here, lad?” the tall, very good looking man asked her.
“Edward…by Jove…it is you! I thought it was,” said a man Star knew very well, very well indeed.
“Jules!” exclaimed the man Jules had called Edward, as he turned and found himself heartily embraced and then slapped on the shoulder.
Star made her escape and breathed a sigh of relief that Jules Stamford had not noticed her. Her disguise would not have held up to his scrutiny, of that she was sure.
She poked her head into another chamber and found a room full with men seated at round tables, some playing cards while others were deep in conversation.
How was she going to pick out Farley? Yes, to be sure, Vern had said he had a very distinctive scar across his nose.
“Well, come on in then, lad,” chirped a young barmaid as she sauntered past him and into the wide galley. She had a touch of an Irish brogue in her voice and an interesting sway as she moved. Star watched her, interested because all the men seemed to find her beautiful and called out affectionate terms to her as she passed.
The Irish girl stopped and turned back to her and said, “Well, ain’t ye coming, then?”
Star again used as low and as gruff a voice as she could muster and asked, “Aye then, can you tell me if Farley is here?”
The serving girl put a hand to her hip and said, “Don’t ye have eyes in yer head? He is sitting right there, he is.” She indicated a large gruff man with a shock of graying dark hair seated at a round table with four other men. She turned away and Star breathed a sigh of relief, as she once again bolstered herself and took a step toward her objective. She could see by the cold glint in his eyes that Farley was every bit the hard man she had imagined.
Determined, Star made her way toward him, keeping her head low but taking in every detail of Farley and the men around him. She noted they were all dressed similarly, in what were once white shirts with billowing sleeves, leather vests, wide belts and long wool pants. The four men with Farley wore their wool caps low over their forehead. Farley sported an uncovered head of hair and a toothless smile as his gaze came up from the table and found her.
“Well, well, what do we have here, a young gapeseed?” Farley said with a smile that was neither warm nor inviting. In fact, Star rather felt hit by the warning in the style of the man’s curved lips.
This was a man who would just as soon kill her, as speak with her and she had the immediate urge to turn and run. She cast her eyes around the table and saw that his men looked toward her calculatingly and with the sure hint of an implied threat.
She would have to stand her ground and do what she had come to do. She simply had no choice. This was for Vern.
Luckily the light in the room was dim. She stayed in the shadows. She could see Farley was in no mood to wait while she got up her courage so she dove right into the heart of the matter. Her voice was similar to her brothers and if she could just maintain the lowered gruff voice she had been using, perhaps all would be well.
“I’m here on behalf of m’cousin Vern, the Lord of Berkley Grange,” she said and thought she had imitated a male’s voice tolerably well. She had only detected the smidgeon of a tremble behind the words.
“Are ye now, moonling?” Farley eyed his men, “Look lively, we have a young guest,” he said and pulled out a chair. With his toothless smile, he indicated he wanted her to sit.
“I won’t be staying long, as I shouldn’t be here…but his lordship asked me to deliver a message. He said…you would need to know and that you would understand. I don’t understand it myself, but his lordship says that I don’t need to.”
“Eh, whot’s this?” Farley was no longer smiling. “Whot message?”
“About your plans for the evening, which I already advised you, I don’t know anything about, other than my cousin says, you must be told,” Star said quietly.
“Hell and fire, lad!” Farley was on his feet. “Whot is that ye say?”
“My cousin says he has information that they will be waiting for you and you must cancel your plans. Somehow they got wind of it and that you can’t go forward.”
Farley’s eyes narrowed, “And he knows this as a fact, does he?”
“Aye, but he wouldn’t tell me more…just what I already told you,” Star answered thinking if she lowered her voice any further, it wouldn’t sound real.
“It is a good thing ye don’t know any more than ye do. See—it wouldn’t be healthy for ye even to remember this much. Do ye get m’drift, lad?”
