Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel) Read online

  “But why are we running?” he heard the woman call once more from behind him.

  It was bad enough he’d had to take her with him to prevent her from being questioned—both for his sake and for hers—but it now appeared he might also have to give her an explanation.

  That was something he hoped to avoid at all costs. This woman didn’t deserve to pay for his choices so it was better he just kept her in the dark about the entire situation.

  He tried to pretend he couldn’t hear her through the commotion of the crowd but she was having none of it.

  “Why are we running?”

  “It’s good for the constitution,” he said, trying to buy time. “It improves the lungs and the brain and the overall health.”

  He turned to look at her once more and steal a glance—for some reason he was curious if this silly answer would make her smile again—and nearly ran into a young woman peddling flowers.

  “Whoa!” he shouted jumping to the left and pulling the woman along behind him just in time to avoid disaster.

  “Then surely you don’t need me,” the woman said though heavy breaths as they wove through the masses of people.

  “What do you mean?”

  “For exercise. If we’re running for exercise and constitution then surely you don’t need me.”

  “Oh, no?”

  “Exercise is a solitary pursuit, is it not?”

  His mouth twitched. He felt guilty but he had to take it there. And besides, he could use this line of conversation to keep her distracted for a while.

  “Is it not?” she pressed.

  “Sometimes, I suppose.”

  “What?” He could hear her voice raise an octave with confusion.

  “Exercise. I’d say that it’s only sometimes a solitary pursuit. There are times when a companion can be quite advantageous.”

  “Whatever do you—what sort of exercise is—” he heard her take a sharp intake of breath and felt her hand stiffen in his. “Do you—do you mean—”

  He looked back just in time to see her mouth twitch, which filled him with a surprisingly satisfying warmth.

  “Well, I—I don’t know firsthand about—about those—those companion—exercises—” she cleared her throat, her words caught in deep breaths “—but if you think that you’re going to convince me that this—that we—that I would—with you!—well then—”

  “Oh, good God!” Cal couldn’t hold in his laughter and the combination of that with the running caused him to cough and choke.

  He let go of the woman’s hand and stopped running just in time to keel over and catch his hands on his knees. He held up one hand to her as he coughed a few more times through fits of laughter. He changed his mind. Her reaction was priceless and fresh—it was something he wasn’t used to in his everyday life and something he hadn’t expected, but he welcomed her vibrant spirit. And now he didn’t feel the least bit guilty for taking the conversation in this direction. Secretly, he was glad.

  When he was finally able to take a deep breath and breathe properly again he stood up and looked to the woman standing next to him.

  She had her hands folded together in front of her waist and she was biting her lower lip. “Should we start running again?”

  And Cal lost it once more, laughing and coughing for what felt like minutes before he was able to compose himself once more. “That’s it, then? With everything that’s just happened, everything I’ve just put you through, and that’s all you’re concerned about right now? Running?”

  “Well, I mean, it just seemed so important to you and—and—I wasn’t doing anything that seemed nearly as important and well—”

  “Oh.” Cal felt a poignant twinge in his chest. Her compassion was melting him. “It was important. It is. Thank you.”

  She looked down and tried to hide the rosy color blooming on her alabaster cheeks. “Then shall we—” She pointed in the direction they had been running while a sliver of a smile grew on her face.

  “Well...” For just a moment Cal had forgotten the situation he was in. He raked his hand through his hair and turned around in a complete circle, looking.

  Bloody hell. He’d lost sight of them but that didn’t mean they had lost sight of him.

  “No. No more running right now. I thank you for your time and for putting up with my eccentricities. But it’s time to part ways.” Cal was surprised by how much these words upset him, but he’d put this unusual and kindhearted woman into enough trouble for one day.

  “Oh,” she said in a soft voice. He was even more surprised by the way that sound made him feel.

  “Well, good day then,” he managed to say through his surging emotions. “And thank you once more.”

  She nodded with a frown and turned, slowly walking away, but she soon stopped and pivoted to face him. “But why were we...”

  Cal shook his head.

  “And your money. How shall I return it?”

  “There’s no need for—” but Cal couldn’t help himself and he changed his mind. “Same time tomorrow, same place we met today. Two pence,” he said with a smirk. “Now go. Before they see us together again and get a better look at you.”

  “They?”

  Damn. It was definitely time to go. He turned and sprinted away as fast as he could.

  “But—but you said no more running!” Her voice called after him longingly.

  Cal smiled to himself but he didn’t dare look back or else he may have run into her arms.

  Chapter 2

  “What happened to you?” Amelia asked the moment that Ellie finally came through the door of the dress shop. Her tiny frame glowed with a mix of amusement, disgust, and savage curiosity. She hopped up from her chair and ran to Ellie, golden hair bobbing, and inspected her up and down like she was some sort of side-show amusement.

  “Amelia…” Mandy reprimanded, before looking up from her sewing. She wiped the loose gray hairs away from her eyes and then winced ever so slightly. “Oh my.”

  “And a good day to the both of you too.” Ellie reached to her chin for the ties of her bonnet only to realize that her bonnet was no longer there. She patted her head with a frown. Not only was her bonnet missing but so were most of her hair pins, causing several pieces of her reddish-brown hair to fall around her face. She hadn’t even noticed. What a sight she must have been making her way back to the shop in such a disheveled state. She didn’t blame Amelia or Mandy for the way they were looking at her right now but that didn’t mean she liked it. “I doubt either of you would look much better after the morning I’ve had.”

  Amelia raised both of her brows and went back to her chair picking up her embroidery, but not yet sitting down. “I can’t say I’ve ever had reason to look that way when coming back from picking up a parcel.” She looked down to the embroidery in her hand but then gasped and dropped it back on the chair. “Unless you were doing something else… or someone el—”

  “Amelia,” Mandy said again in the same critical tone, cutting her off. “Heavens me, I don’t know why I let you read those books.”

  “Because they’re my books! And I would read them anyway,” Amelia said with a smug smile. “Acceptance is easier than fighting.”

  Mandy shook her round face then set her sewing aside and made her way over to Ellie. She clicked her tongue as she tucked a few strands of hair behind Ellie’s ear and wiped at something on her forehead. “What happened, dear? As much as I hate to admit it, Amelia’s right—”

  “I told you!”

  Mandy glared at Amelia who seemed to literally bite her tongue and look back down at her work. “You’ve definitely had a more entertaining morning than should come from retrieving a package of textiles…”

  Ellie gasped and put her hands up to her cheeks. “The package. I completely forgot!”

  She hurried over to the mirror and began to adjust the pins still left in her hair and blot her face with her handkerchief. She felt guilty. While Mandy, Amelia, and her mother had spent the morning
working, she’d been gallivanting around the city with a handsome stranger. And if that wasn’t bad enough she hadn’t even managed to complete her errand and bring back the package of textiles her mother had been waiting for. “If I hurry I can still make it there before the day is out.”

  “No, no, dear. No need for that.” Mandy assured her.

  “But—”

  “But we don’t even need those materials for several days now. And besides, I’m sure your mother would rather we take care of you than worry about Lady Rivenhall’s party dress.”

  “Alright.” Ellie sighed and sat down, kicking off her shoes and crossing her left ankle over her knee so she could rub her foot. “If I’d known how today would turn out I would have worn more sensible shoes.”

  “What fun are sensible shoes?” Amelia piped in.

  “Being able to run without pain is great fun, in my opinion.”

  “Run?” both Amelia and Mandy asked.

  Oh darn. Ellie hadn’t meant to say that. In fact, she hadn’t even meant to think about the whirlwind of events and emotions that had happened while running through the city with her handsome stranger. The handsome stranger, she corrected herself, unsure why she had thought about him in that way. Oh, darn again. She was going to start blushing soon if she wasn’t careful. And there would be no way to explain that away.

  “There was another protest again today,” she said trying to change the subject back to the things she could actually talk about.

  Mandy took a deep breath and then set her jaw without saying a word. She sat down next to Ellie and rested her cheek against her hand.

  “This one was a bit different though,” Ellie continued. “They were blocking off portions of the main roads and forcing us to go in the direction they wanted us to go.”

  “And where might that have been?” Mandy asked.

  “To where the roads cut through their neighborhoods. They were forcing us to look. I had to take some smaller side streets off of Market Road—nothing too terribly dangerous but rather upsetting…”

  “A protest. Oh my. That sounds romantic,” Amelia added offhandedly as she kept her head down and continued to work on her embroidery. “I mean I don’t know what one is—this protest—but the word sure does have that romantic ring to it.”

  “Well, it most certainly is nothing of the sort, Amelia.” Mandy’s words were sharp and biting but the timbre of her voice was low and quivering. “Maybe if you spent more time reading a newspaper than those ridiculous books you would know what we’re talking about.”

  Ellie reached out and took hold of Mandy’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “She’s not much older than I was when I found out.”

  “And you’re forgetting something else, Mandy,” came the voice of Ellie’s mother, Angela, from behind them as she entered the room carrying a stack of fabrics. Ellie went to her and took half the stack, setting it down on a table. “Thank you, dear,” she said to Ellie giving her only a minor look of concern. It appeared she had been listening from the other room and was already up to speed on their current conversation.

  “What am I forgetting, Mrs. Wilson?”

  “That like Ellie and her father and I, Amelia also did not grow up in Manchester. And even if she had, it’s not likely to have made a difference. How many people around here choose to look away and pretend?”

  “Found out what?” Amelia finally set down her embroidery and looked at the three older women in the room. “What are people looking away from? What are you talking about?”

  “The mill workers,” Mandy answered. Her voice caught and she cleared her throat.

  “Mill workers? Who? What about them? Why would I care?”

  Ellie and her mother looked to Mandy, who tightened her jaw.

  “What do you think about working here, Amelia?” Ellie’s mother asked.

  That seemed to catch her attention and also catch the normally verbose Amelia off guard. “Oh. Well... Oh my…” She cleared her throat and composed herself before finally giving what seemed to be a truthful, if not slightly exaggerated, answer. “Oh, I love it here Mrs. Wilson.”

  “Do you now? You love working?” Ellie saw the corners of her mother’s mouth twitch. And apparently, so did Amelia who now squirmed in her seat.

  “Perhaps I… Well, I didn’t actually say I loved working, not exactly…”

  “Really? I never would have guessed that…” Mandy murmured.

  “Who loves working?” Amelia threw her hands above her head.

  “I do,” Mandy countered.

  “Well, aren’t you just a big ole barrel of fun?”

  Ellie and her mother smiled and Amelia crossed her arms.

  “I wasn’t lying,” she said glaring at Mandy who was now refusing to acknowledge her stares. “Maybe I don’t love working, but I do love working here quite a lot.”

  “And why is that?” Ellie’s mother asked.

  Still not entirely sure what was happening, Amelia’s eyes drifted to each of the other women as she spoke. “The lodgings are nice. I never worked anywhere with lodgings before. And if there had been any I’m nearly certain they would have been uninhabitable… Oh, and the work load is appropriately doled out. Can’t say the same for most other places I’ve worked at. None, actually, come to think of it… Oh, and you Mrs. Wilson. I promise I’m not just saying it because you’re the one doing the asking, but you’ve treated me kinder than my own mother ever did. And your husband and Ellie here as well… Even you, Mandy, are tolerable on most days,” Amelia added sardonically. “Though, I’m not sure what you’re getting at with all this…”

  “What if tomorrow my mother told you that you had to start working twelve hours or more at a time?”

  “She wouldn’t. You wouldn’t!”

  “No! Of course not. But what if I did?”

  “Ugh,” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Well I wouldn’t like it much. Not at all actually. But I suppose I’d have to do it. I wouldn’t have much of a choice, would I? If I needed to keep my job, that is.”

  “And do you need your job?”

  “I do. Of course, I do. What’s all this about?” Her eyes opened wide and she threw her hands against both sides of her face. “Are you letting me go?”

  “No. Of course not.” Ellie’s mother shook her head and laughed softly.

  “What if you were injured,” Ellie asked now, “and she said you had to keep working—”

  “Injured? How am I going to injure myself here?” Amelia wiggled her fingers. “Pick myself with a pin? Does that even count as an injury? What sort of seamstress would I be if I let that get to me?”

  “You’re not a seamstress yet, dearie,” Mandy chortled.

  “Oh, now. She’s made great progress since I took her on six months ago,” Ellie’s mother said to Mandy. And then to Amelia, “You’re doing just fine, dear.”

  Amelia sat up straighter and glared at Mandy who rolled her eyes and went back to her sewing. Amelia looked back to Ellie.

  “You didn’t prick your finger. You cut it clear off.”

  “What?” Amelia snickered. “How?”

  “Cutting fabric.”

  “But that’s not even—” Amelia looked to Mandy and pointed her thumb at Ellie. “And you thought I had an over active imagination!”

  “I’m just…” Ellie dropped her shoulders. “This is purely hypothetical. Just follow me.”

  Amelia raised her eyebrows, opened her eyes wide, and held up her hand, pointer finger folded over. “Alright then. I’ve cut off my fing—” She laughed and shook her head. Then she held up her hand again, finger folded over, trying to force her expression into a straight and calm manner. She laughed again. “I can’t. This is just too ridiculous.”

  Ellie sighed and continued on by herself. “You’ve cut off your finger and my mother tells you that you must keep working.”

  Amelia broke into another fit of giggles. “Now why on earth would she do that? I’d be certain to make a right mess of the fabrics an
d that wouldn’t do anyone any good…”

  “This is nothing to laugh about, Amelia,” Mandy added, sternly. “This is life and death.”

  “Life and death? But—I thought we were talking about the dress shop and working ridiculously long hours and me somehow cutting off my finger…” Amelia let her mouth gape. “And Ellie said this was hypothetical.”

  “Well, the idea of my mother forcing you to work long hours with your finger cut off is. Or course.”

  “Then what are we even talking about? I’m so confused…”

  “We’re just—” Ellie pinched her nose. “We’re just trying to make you see it from your own perspective. Put you in their shoes so it would make more sense and reach you deeper.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Amelia bit her lip. “Whose shoes am I supposed to be in?”

  The three woman stared at her blankly.

  “Ohhh. This is about the mill workers, isn’t it? And the protest.”

  “How ever did you guess?” Mandy mumbled. “You know, for someone who reads so many books you sure seem to have a hard time following along at times…”

  Amelia crossed her arms and frowned. “I take back what I said about protests being romantic. The books I read are happy and are about love and outspoken women and dashing heroes. They don’t have any of this serious business about mill workers and protests. That all sounds quite a bit too distressing for my taste.”

  “It’s quite a bit distressing for most people, which is probably why they choose to ignore it. The cowards,” Mandy muttered. “The bloody cowards.”

  “You still haven’t told me what a protest is exactly. Ellie mentioned something about the workers’ neighborhoods and being forced to look… Forced to look at what?”

  Ellie’s mother left the table and went to her daughter, sitting down on the opposite side of her from Mandy. She clenched her jaw as she reached up and stroked Ellie’s hair. “I must have missed that part of the conversation. A protest? Are you alright, dear?”

  “Perfectly fine,” Ellie said with a slight edge in her voice. For just a moment she felt guilty for not revealing what she had been up to today, but she knew that it would only make her mother worry. Besides, Ellie was a grown woman after all, whether she felt like it or not, and she didn’t have to tell her mother everything. Did she?