Frank Tripp, on the other hand, defied all her rules. He was a veritable enigma. Upon some investigation she’d learned he had no routine. Belonged to all the clubs and attended them randomly. Hardly smoked or gambled. Caroused in all parts of the city. Plus, he cut her off nearly every time she opened her mouth, and he’d never peeked even once at her bosom.
A bosom that was, as she’d been told, quite remarkable.
Florence leaned over as they approached the street. “Your errant knight looks none too pleased.”
Mamie gave an unladylike snort. “Hardly a knight. More like a fire-breathing dragon.”
“Then best to let you get burned while I find us a hack.”
“Coward.”
Florence chuckled and continued to the street, head swiveling as she searched for a ride. Within seconds, Tripp appeared at Mamie’s side, a scowl on his striking face. Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, she went on the offensive. “Was it necessary for you to ruin our evening?”
His eyes narrowed sharply. “You mean was it necessary to save you from assault or violation? A man poured some sort of liquid in your drink, likely a drug to incapacitate you. You are welcome, by the way.”
“You mean the man on my left who took a vial out of his inside jacket pocket?” She had the pleasure of watching Frank’s mouth fall open in surprise. “Yes, Tripp. I saw him. I would not have touched the champagne glass again and had plans on moving tables to escape him. But yes, thank you for saving me.”
A hack rolled up to the curb, so Mamie lifted her skirts and made to move around him. “Wait,” he said, shooting a hand out to block her path. “You’re not taking a hack. I will escort you home.”
“Not necessary. Florence and I are perfectly capable of seeing—”
“It’s not up for negotiation, Mamie. Get in my carriage.” He pointed to a glossy black vehicle up the block.
“Why?”
He cocked his head. “So that I may take you both home. Are you not listening?”
Lord, the man was intolerable. Using clear logic was the only way to deal with him. “This is the third time you have bounced me from the Bronze House, correct?”
“Correct.”
“And on any of those other occasions did you see me to my front door?”
The side of his mouth hitched. “No, I did not.”
“Furthermore, did you not call me a ‘bored, spoiled child’ during our last meeting?”
He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, Your Honor, I did. Is there a point to all this?”
“You don’t care for me and the feeling is definitely mutual—”
“That’s not true. Would I give up my evening plans and tramp down here for someone I didn’t care for?”
“Yes, if you thought you might lose a client.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek as he frowned at her. “If this is about your father, then why haven’t I informed him of these excursions of yours?”
Actually, she’d wondered the same herself. “I assume it’s part of some elaborate scheme you’ve concocted. You never do anything without benefit to yourself, I’ve been told.”
“Says the woman who pilfered a money clip from that man in the crowd.”
Now it was her jaw that fell open. He saw her swipe the money clip?
“Yes, Mamie, I saw it,” he said, answering her silent question. “And while I mean to learn precisely why you are out robbing swells in casinos, I’d prefer to do so from the comfort of my carriage. Come on.”
Not robbing, she wanted to tell him. At least not the way he assumed. More like redistributing. These uptown men had more money than sense while those downtown were starving and living in squalor. Young women and men who sold their bodies for coin. Matchstick girls with their glowing, rotting flesh. Babies covered in dirt and filth. Men angry and violent over the lack of opportunities afforded them.
Mamie never kept what she took. She gave the money either to a charity or directly to a tenement family herself. There were too many needy families in the city, and the charities were oftentimes more concerned with temperance and religious conversion than distributing aid. Mamie would rather not see any restrictions placed on relief, which was why she traveled downtown herself a few times a month.
Not that she’d tell Tripp any of this. Only her sisters knew . . . and Mamie meant to see it stayed that way.
She lifted her chin and stared Tripp down. “Unless you are prepared to kidnap me—and my sister—then I think not. Now, thank you for ruining my—”
Before she could blink, Tripp bent and swooped her off the ground, his arms sturdy and unforgiving around her. Mamie let out a shriek and struggled in his hold. “Tripp, for God’s sake, put me down!”
The blasted man ignored her and started for his carriage. Another man walked toward them, his curious gaze taking in the scene of a tall man carrying a well-dressed woman along Thirty-Third Street. “Help,” she said to the stranger. “He is kidnapping me.”
The man shot a concerned glance at Tripp. However, the lawyer never broke stride as he answered, “Wife’s had a bit too much champagne, I’m afraid. I am seeing her and her sister home. Come along, sis.” He threw the last part over his shoulder and Mamie was horrified to see a grinning Florence hurrying to catch up.
The stranger continued on his way, not intervening. “He’s lying,” Mamie called to the man’s back. “He is a consummate liar. Every word out of his mouth is a fabrication.”
“How’s this for a truth? You are a pain in my backside,” Tripp muttered.
“I could say the same of you—and put me down. I am able to walk. I promise to come with you.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
She stiffened and pushed her palm against his shoulder. Heavens, he was sturdy. “I’ve never broken a promise in my life.”
He made a rude noise in his throat. “Is that so? You promised not to gamble again the last time I caught you. You also promised not to visit casinos, saloons, dance halls, brothels, opium dens or any other disreputable destinations. And yet, here you are.”
Well, yes. She had promised those things—but only because she hadn’t planned on getting caught. She sniffed. “I crossed my fingers when I made those promises.”
“I rest my case.”
“That makes two of us, then. I never believe a word you say.” He lied for a living, after all.
He hates you. He thinks you are a spoiled society girl, flitting about with no purpose except to cause trouble. Fine. Better if everyone believed as much. Otherwise, she’d never be able to help those in need, those with the misfortune of being born on the wrong end of town.
So perhaps she and Frank had more in common than she originally thought. They were both liars.
That realization didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have.
He stepped aside and let Florence board first. “Traitor,” Mamie hissed at her sibling, only to hear Florence’s laugh as she disappeared inside. Tripp then placed Mamie on the ground. “After you,” he said with a sweep of his arm.
I shall not talk to him. I owe him absolutely nothing.