No Place for a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

would survive one. She was too vulnerable in too many ways.
    But neither was she willing to simply concede.
    Jerking her chin out of his hand, she drew herself upright, trying as nearly as possible to match his size. "Despite all that Nameless could do, you still reek of French perfume—"
    "We passed a bawdy house—"
    "Distinctive, rich, French perfume that was no doubt sprinkled all over you by your mistress. It is one way the bawds have of identifying ownership of a man. Your breeches are too fine, your manner too proud. You will be marked within seconds of entering the pub, and my only hope is to pass you off as a mad peer playacting in the docks. Ballast does not play games, yer lordship, and neither do I. It would be best for us both if you turned around now and went home. This is not your world."
    Fantine watched him closely, gauging his reaction and his intelligence, but he gave nothing away beyond a slight clench to his jaw. "I have been in alehouses worse than any you can find," he finally said.
    "Alone?" she countered. "Or with another?" Then she rushed on before he could answer. "Alone, you make your own rules, you live or die by your own actions. With another there is added safety, but also more risk. What will you do when Ballast takes me into the back room and then you are surrounded by his men? Will you turn and run? Or will you try to be a gentleman hero and protect the woman?"
    She watched his eyes, expecting to see the telltale flush of guilt as he admitted to himself that he would run. It did not appear. Instead, she saw a grim determination flatten his gaze, as if he would do anything, including a foolhardy rush against ridiculous odds to try and save her. And why? She did not make the mistake of thinking such idiocy was for her sake. Gentlemen worked on a code of honor, and apparently Chadwick had more than his measure.
    "Cut and run, you halfwit," she snapped. "I can take care of myself."
    His smile was slow in coming, but no less startling. "You would like that, hmmm?" he asked, his voice humming with the low throb of authority. "Perhaps you intend to betray me to Ballast, tip his hat to me only to rid yourself of an annoyance? Who is the halfwit, Fantine? I would not advise such an act."
    Fantine swallowed, unnerved that he could think as deviously as she. " I will not betray you, Chadwick. You are a fish out of water, here. Your own ignorance will destroy you." Then she decided to end this debate, knowing she could return to it when she had more command of the situation. She jerked her head toward the pub. "We cannot waste any more time on this. If we wait much longer, Ballast will be too drunk to be of any use."
    He shifted slightly, as if allowing the change in topic. "Perhaps we should wait until he is well into his cups."
    Fantine shook her head. "Ballast is a mean drunk—suspicious and violent. Our best chance is to approach him when his brainpan is not awash with spirits." She did not add that her guise as a child would not protect her from a drunken Ballast. At such times, he was known to take boys to bed as well as girls.
    Chadwick nodded once, as if he understood her silent concerns. That was impossible, of course, but for some silly reason, the gesture reassured her. She began to relax, making the mental shift into the persona of the Rat.
    "Ye're me daft flash," she said softly, "who 'ired me to let ye peer at London's sordid underbelly." She repeated that last phrase again, seeking to imitate his wording as a boy would, mocking the man while trying out his large words. "If we be split," she added, looking directly at him to give weight to her words, "run like a craven mort. Oi can 'andle Ballast." Then she let herself smile. "'E ain't near as smart as 'e thinks."
    She saw the question in his eyes, but she did not give him a chance to voice it. Instead, she sprang past him, scurrying through the damp street until she could duck into the pub doorway. She knew he would follow, no doubt