Darling Beast (Maiden Lane #7)(51)

“Catch her and hold her,” Lily told Maude. “The last thing we need is Daffodil attacking soldiers.”

She went to the door and opened it, putting on her most charming smile. “Yes?”

The man without was an officer. He wore a red-coated uniform with smart white facing, breeches, and waistcoat, but his face was unshaven and lined. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

“ ’As a man taken refuge ’ere? A big man?” he asked.

Dear God, they were after Caliban. Lily prayed that Indio wouldn’t volunteer information.

“Why no,” she answered, puzzled, but sweet. “We were asleep until you came a-knocking, Major.”

The man actually flushed. “It’s Sergeant, ma’am. Sergeant Green. We’re searching for this man and we’ll ’ave a look around your… uh…’ouse.”

“It’s a theater, Sergeant Green,” she said, pulling the door wide, “and naturally the King’s men have my permission to look to their heart’s content.”

He nodded curtly and three uniformed soldiers tromped in, tracking mud onto Maude’s clean floor.

The maidservant’s mouth’s tightened, but she made no comment.

“May I offer you some tea, Sergeant?” Lily asked.

“That’s right kind of you, ma’am, but I’m afeard we ’aven’t the time,” Sergeant Green replied. His men were already in her bedroom doing Lord knew what with her bed linen. “Is there anyone else in the, er, theater?”

“Just myself and my maid and son.” She gestured to Maude and Indio. Daffodil took the opportunity to growl at the sergeant and attempt to wriggle free from Maude’s arms.

“Quite.” The sergeant had narrowed his eyes at the little greyhound. “And you are…?”

“Why, Miss Robin Goodfellow,” she said with what she knew was becoming modesty.

One of the soldiers tripped.

The sergeant looked impressed. “The actress?”

“You’ve heard of me, Sergeant?” she asked, all wide-eyed amazement, her hand pressed modestly to her chest. “How flattering.”

“Saw you in that play—the one in which you wore”—the sergeant blushed a deep russet and lowered his voice—“breeches. Awful grand, you were, ma’am. Awful grand.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, feigning flustered confusion. “Can you tell me whom your men are looking for?”

“A wanted man,” Sergeant Green said darkly. “Right dangerous character. Are there more rooms in the theater, ma’am?”

“Not really,” she said. “Some parts of the backstage are still standing, but they’ve been boarded up because it’s unsafe.”

Naturally the sergeant ordered the door leading to the area unbarred. Two of the men went through and there was a silence as the third poked through Maude’s chest. Why, Lily wasn’t sure, since the chest was far too small for anyone of normal size to hide in, let alone Caliban.

Lily tried to remain calm as she fretted. Were there more soldiers searching the garden even as these messed about in the theater—or were there only these four men? Could she somehow send word to warn him?

But he must’ve heard the noise the soldiers were making by now, surely?

After a few minutes there was a crash and a good deal of cursing from the soldiers who had gone into the unsafe area of the theater. They returned, quite sooty, looking sheepish, and with one of them limping.

Lily smiled, trying to appear at ease and not as if she wanted to rid herself of the soldiers. “If that’s all, Sergeant, I must be getting my son’s breakfast.”

“Thank you for your time, Miss Goodfellow,” he replied, “and if you should see a big fellow sneaking about the garden, you must notify the authorities at once.”

“Oh, you can be assured I will,” she said, putting a tremor of fright into her voice. “But can you tell me what he’s wanted for?”

“Why, murder, ma’am,” Sergeant Green replied with grim relish. “The Viscount Kilbourne escaped nine months ago from Bedlam, where he was committed for savagely and insanely murdering three of his friends for no reason at all.”

Lily stared at him, shocked into silence. She couldn’t seem to even make her brain work.

Sergeant Green seemed satisfied with her reaction. “Be careful, Miss Goodfellow, you and your boy and your maid. Kilbourne is no more than a beast. He’d as soon kill you as look at you.”

With that he bowed and with his men tramped out of the theater.

In the sudden silence Lily turned mutely to stare at Maude. “Oh, my God.”

“BUT ’TIS ONLY nine of the clock,” the sleepy blond wench mumbled as Asa Makepeace bundled her out his door. A blue ribbon trailed forlornly from her half-done hair. “Thought we could at least ’ave a bit of a cuddle this morn afore I ’ad to go.”

“And we will, love—next time,” Makepeace said, and then bent to whisper something no doubt salacious in her ear.

Apollo made sure to turn his back, staring at a box of marzipan sweets carelessly left open on a pile of papers. They were shaped into oranges and lemons. He wanted not only to keep from hearing whatever it was Makepeace was whispering to his paramour, but also to prevent her from seeing his face.