Rules For A Proper Governess (MacKenzies & McBrides #7)(71)
Author: Jennifer Ashley

“This is Mr. McBride,” Bertie said, a bit stiffly. “My employer.”

Mrs. Lang looked Sinclair up and down, her scrutiny admiring. “Well, you’re a fine one, ain’t you? Very handsome, in that way a Scottish bloke can be. Better wait out here, duckie. Old Gerry might get upset at the sight of you.”

Sinclair didn’t look happy, but he nodded as he took off his hat. “I’ll be right here, Bertie. Shout if you need me.” He gave her a look that told her she’d better. He might barge right in if she lingered longer than he liked, in any case.

Bertie gave him a nod, squared her shoulders, and followed Mrs. Lang into the bedroom.

“Well, look at the cat who swallowed the cream.” Gerry Frasier, his face grayer than Bertie had ever seen it, gazed at her over the bedcovers. His face was also lined and haggard, but he wasn’t hung over. This was true illness.

“How are you, Dad?” Bertie said. She pulled off her gloves and went to the bedside, holding out her hand.

Her father clasped her fingers with his hard ones. “Dying. So nice for me own daughter to bother to come and see me.”

“I was in Scotland. I know Mrs. Lang wouldn’t a’ sent for me if it weren’t bad.”

“It’s bad.” The hand that pressed Bertie’s was strong, though. “That flash bastard you’ve taken up with out there? I heard a voice.”

“Yeah, he’s here. Making sure you didn’t set me up.”

Gerry looked hurt, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “As if I would. I’ve always been good to you, Bertie-girl, haven’t I?”

“No, of course, you haven’t. You made me steal for you and smacked me when I didn’t do it quick enough. You’re an old brute, and I’m well rid of you.” She patted his hand, softening the words.

Gerry’s eyes moistened. “Well, that’s true. But I always looked after you, you know that. Your mum asked me to, before she went. Never let anyone else touch you, did I?”

“No, Dad. You’re a regular knight-errant.”

Gerry squeezed her hand, looking genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry about Jeffrey. I never meant him to go after you, with a shooter, no less. If I’d known that, I would have had me mates sit on him until he saw reason. I’d have throttled him meself after, if he hadn’t got himself dragged off to chokey.”

Bertie believed him. For all Gerry had been hard on her, he’d also been extremely protective. Bertie had no doubt that had Jeffrey not been afraid of her father, he’d have dragged Bertie off to his bed long ago, whether she wanted to or not.

Gerry tugged her closer. “I need to tell you something else, love. I didn’t just ask you to come so you could watch your old dad push off. I need to warn you.”

Mrs. Lang looked worried, and Bertie felt a qualm. “Yeah? About what?”

“There’s villains after you, Bertie. High-end villains.”

Bertie studied her father’s face. He could be a liar, and a good one, but this time, he had true fear in his watery blue eyes. She glanced at Mrs. Lang for confirmation, and Mrs. Lang nodded.

“What do you mean, high-end?” Bertie asked. “Posh gents who have turned to crime, or villains who’ve come up in the world?”

“The second,” Gerry said. “Like Frank Devlin.”

Bertie started. “What’s someone like Devlin want with me?” Frank Devlin was a very bad man, made a lot of money running housebreakers and street girls, plus a couple of bawdy houses for well-paying customers. He’d never bothered much with Bertie and her dad—they were too low-grade for him, and Gerry had taught Bertie to stay well clear of him.

Mrs. Lang answered. “We don’t know. But he’s working for someone, and word is that he wants you brought to him. That’s why we asked you to come here and see us. Couldn’t trust a messenger, not with news like that.”

Chapter 25

Bertie came running out of the bedroom, her face pale under the gray hat she loved. “We have to go,” she threw at Sinclair on her way past him.

Sinclair caught her by the arm. “Wait. Why? What did he say to you?”

Bertie wrenched herself from his grasp. “Tell you downstairs. When we’re out of this place.”

She made for the door in a swish of skirts and was gone. Sinclair, instead of following her, strode to the bedroom and went inside.

“What did you say to her?” he demanded of the two in the room.

Mr. Frasier peered at Sinclair from his bed. He didn’t look good, but he also didn’t look near to death’s door. Ill yes, but not fatally. “Mr. McBride, is it? You take good care of my girl, all right?”

“You lured her here,” Sinclair said sternly, ignoring him. “Didn’t you? What’s your game?”

“We had to,” Mrs. Lang said, her dark eyes anxious. “We couldn’t trust no one to tell her but us. Bertie will explain. Best you go now. We can’t risk anyone knowing we spilled anything to Basher McBride.”

“The entire street knows I’m here,” Sinclair said impatiently.

“Yeah, but won’t be us who told you, will it?”

“If you’re in danger, you should leave.”

Frasier laughed at him. “I’ve lived on this street man and boy. Me mates are here, me lady . . . me whole life. I’m not going. I’m proud of Bertie for trying to better herself, but I’m not in a hurry to move far from my local, am I?” Another wheezing laugh. “Fancy me walking into any other pub but me own. They’d take me head off on the spot.”

Mrs. Lang held the man’s hand. “I’ll look after him. You take care of our Bertie.”

“I intend to,” Sinclair said.

Frasier’s voice went stern. “If you don’t marry her yourself, you marry her off to someone with plenty of blunt who’s good to her. Understand me?”

Sinclair had started for the door, but he turned back, his anger tight. “You beat her,” he said clearly. “You used her to rob and steal for you—too afraid to do it yourself, were you? You’ve forfeited any say in what happens to her. She’ll never be hurt again, that I can tell you for certain.”

“Just tell Bertie . . .” Frasier said. “Tell her she’s a good girl. Always was. Like her mum.”

He was a sad old git, Sinclair decided, but Sinclair had seen many a man turn contrite when he thought the end was nigh. Frasier probably did feel remorse, but that didn’t excuse what he’d done. “She’s a wonderful young woman,” Sinclair said. “And she’ll live like a princess. Good day to you.”