Not Quite a Baroness: A Sweet Victorian Gothic Historical Romance (The Boston Heiresses Book 2)

by Ava Rose

  His heart felt as if it stopped in his chest when he saw someone pull her roughly into the alleyway. His blood rushed to his legs to propel him forward. His shoulder pained him as he moved but he put that out of his head. Shoulder pain was the least of his worries.

  Libby had gotten herself into trouble again, and she was more important to him than anything.

  He raced into the alley to find another woman on top of Libby struggling with her. He ran forward to separate them and found that they were scuffling over a black velvet box.

  Henry dragged the woman off Libby and she fell to the ground, then he quickly knelt and pinned her down before she could recover and attack again. A bruise was starting to color on her cheek. Libby had clearly gotten in a most unladylike punch. Good for her!

  But the woman was holding the box.

  “Who the devil are you?” he demanded.

  The woman glowered up at him, as Libby bent down and snatched the box back.

  She refused to answer and continued to struggle, though, even in his weakened state, she was no match for his strength.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” he asked again.

  Libby handed him a long satin ribbon from her cloak, and he bound the woman’s hands together before pulling her up to her feet. He still did not let her go.

  Finally, the woman spoke. “I am Nolan Hart's real wife!”

  Libby's jaw dropped, as did his own. “What?”

  “I married him last year and he destroyed my life,” she cried. “I thought he was a good man and I fell in love. Once we were married, he took all of my inheritance and squandered it. He ruined me. I had to do it. I had to kill him.”

  Henry's gaze travelled to Libby as the woman revealed the truth. Libby’s face was already pale and her eyes were wide with shock.

  “You killed Mr. Hart?” Henry asked, just to confirm he had heard correctly the first time.

  “Yes, and I don't regret it,” the woman spat. “He was a monster. Look what he did to you,” she said, directly to Libby. “I did us both a favor.”

  “You tried to frame her!” Henry said, and the woman’s gaze slid away.

  “Well, when I realized that might not work, I decided to…” She trailed off.

  “You decided to spread the rumor about the Raven?” Henry prompted.

  “Someone had to take the blame.”

  “So, you know the man who attacked me.”

  “Yes, I hired him to slow your investigation.”

  “Where is he now?”

  She shrugged. “I don't know. I never saw him again after you wounded him. He has not even collected his last payment.”

  “What do you want with the ruby necklace?” Libby finally spoke.

  Necklace? Henry shifted his gaze to the velvet box.

  “It belonged to my grandmother,” the woman sniffed. “It's the only valuable thing I have left and I have been searching for it. It is why I have been following you. I thought you might eventually lead me to it.”

  Henry wasn’t quite sure he fully believed her. Being ruined and left penniless was a terrible fate, but it was still no reason to commit murder. Nor to frame an innocent person for a crime they did not commit.

  “I just want my grandmother's necklace back, please.” The woman began to sob, but he noticed she didn’t have any tears.

  While he was debating within himself, Libby loosened the ribbon binding the woman’s hands.

  “Wait,” he started to say, but it was too late. She had handed the velvet box back to the woman.

  “I just wish you hadn’t actually killed him,” Libby said with a sigh.

  “He was a monster!” the woman exclaimed again.

  Libby shook her head. “It's still no reason to kill someone. Take your necklace.”

  “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, because the police will come after you,” Henry warned her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She ran out of the alley. When Henry turned to Libby, her eyes were filled with tears. “I had to let her go,” she said. “That woman’s fate could have been mine.”

  She shuddered, and without thinking, he pulled her into his arms. “Never,” he said. “You would never have taken the actions that criminal took. But it's over now,” he said in a low soothing voice. “We know who did it. And, if she married Mr. Hart last year, why, there should be no opposition to your own annulment. It’s good news, Libby.”

  She sniffed before pulling away. “What are you doing here? I thought you had stopped believing in me.”

  He tightened his hold briefly before releasing her. “Of course, I believed you. And in you. I just wanted to protect you, for once.”

  “You were wrong.”

  “Yes, I was,” he admitted. “I should have honored our commitment to work together. I am so sorry, Libby. Will you forgive me?”

  “I don't want to talk now, Henry. I just want to go home.” She began walking out of the alley and he had no choice but to follow.

  She was still upset with him. And why should she not be? He had paid lip service to the two of them being equal partners in this, and then by his actions, had done the opposite. The fact that his motivation was purely to protect someone he cared about, was moot.

  He was in the wrong.

  His carriage was waiting at the end of the road and when he offered to hand her in, she ignored him and climbed up by herself.

  The ride to her home was made in silence with enough tension to suck the life out of him, but he remained patient.

  He cared about Libby, and now that the case was over—well, almost over—he would do whatever he could to make amends. She had become too precious to let go.

  When they reached Armstrong-Leeds House, she left him and headed straight upstairs to her own suite. He sat in the drawing room feeling out of place and somewhat drained. He supposed he did not have to stay here anymore. He had almost recovered completely, and the case was all but concluded.

  “What happened?” Penforth’s voice washed over him and he stirred.

  “We found the killer,” he said simply. “It was a woman. Mr. Nolan Hart’s real wife.”

  Penforth's eyes widened and he strode into the room. What on earth?” He rubbed his chin. “So, Libby’s marriage to the man, forced or otherwise, is null and void.”

  Henry nodded. “That is correct.”

  “Thank God!” Penforth ran his hands through his hair. His relief was palpable.

  “Libby received some of Mr. Hart’s belongings from the chapel two days ago and there was a key to a bank deposit box in the items. It turned out to contain a ruby necklace that the wife had been looking for. She has been following us for days, hoping we’ll lead her to it. We tussled with her before she revealed that he married her last year and conned her out of her inheritance. In order to enact revenge, she killed him. The necklace was her grandmother's so Libby gave it back to her.”

  “You let the woman go?” Pen asked.

  “Just for now. I will ensure the police go after her. Libby has a soft heart and she believed everything the woman said. I’m not so sure. And I damn well will not allow a murderer to get away with it, not after all she put Libby through,” he avowed.

  “Thank you, Detective, for everything you have done for our family.”

  Henry gave him a slow nod.

  “Are you certain you don't want payment?”

  He started to shake his head but stopped. “Actually, I do have a request.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Libby was not sure how long she sat on her bed thinking, but she was beyond relieved. The nightmare that had seemed never-ending was now over. Once the truth was revealed, and her annulment complete, she could go out into the world again, face people, and Mary could make her debut and not be ruined.

  But her heart ached. Of course, she was still annoyed with Henry, but she knew deep down that his motivation had been true. He must care for her, at least a little, and had only wished to protect her. Perhaps he just needed more
instruction in the ways of equality for all. Or perhaps, now that the case was ended, he would disappear out of her life forever. Not long ago she had wished for that. Now she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  The door opened suddenly and Anna rushed in, jumped onto the bed, and took Libby in her arms. “Pen just gave me wonderful news!”

  Libby grinned. “I am free, Anna, or at least, I will be soon, and so is Mary.”

  Anna’s blue eyes shimmered. “We are going to give her the biggest ball to celebrate her entrance into society.”

  “I agree.”

  “Libby!” Mary ran in and jumped onto the bed too, hugging both Libby and Anna. “I am so happy this is over!”

  It was truly a beautiful moment and Libby could not be more grateful for her beautiful family and friends. She was safe, and once they reported to the police, her name would be cleared. It was wonderful.

  But was she truly happy?

  Christiana joined them then. “I am so proud of you, Libby. You went out and found the truth. You remind me a lot of your father. He never wavered in the face of adversity. I was always the one crying and being afraid.”

  Libby wrapped her arms around her mother. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you too, my dear brave child.”

  They became quiet, appreciating the moment and their blessings, until Mary broke the silence with an announcement.

  “I have solved the stolen necklace case.”

  Stolen necklace? Libby was confused because she had just finished dealing with a necklace. But then realization came and she laughed. “Lady Kingsleigh’s necklace?”

  “Henry put me on the case. I know who did it. It was her lady’s maid.” Mary’s dark eyes gleamed with excitement and adventure. “He had collected all the clues, you see; names and portraits. I noticed that the lady’s maid looked suspiciously familiar, and on closer inspection, I discovered that it is the same maid caught searching Libby’s room. Do you remember her?”

  They all nodded, and Mary continued. “In the police statement, she said she is French, but we know that is a lie. She was born right here in Boston. She just changed her accent.”

  Christiana blinked. “How did you find out all of this?”

  Mary beamed. “I love searching for clues. I have been trying to figure out why she was searching Libby’s room. Libby attended a ball the night before and she wore your emerald necklace. I think she was looking for that necklace.”

  “I am sure, with Henry’s guidance, you will do a wonderful job in solving the mysteries plaguing this city,” Christiana said.

  Libby believed that, too. Her sister was very intelligent and she had the passion for it. She had just solved a case for which Henry had been too occupied to give his full attention.

  “Know that I will not allow you to abandon your life here as Henry has done,” her mother cautioned Mary.

  The young girl laughed. “Of course not, Mama!”

  “Come, we are going to have a feast tonight to celebrate,” Christiana said, getting to her feet. “Anna, Mary, come help me prepare. And Libby, I want you to get some rest.”

  Libby smiled at her mother, looking forward to the celebration. It was long overdue.

  Instead of resting as her mother had recommended, Libby left the room to search for Henry. Even though she was still out of sorts about him, she felt the need to see him. She did not even know what she was going to say when she saw him.

  On reaching his guest room, she found the space devoid of his presence. All of his things were gone. A maid with an armful of linens was about to attack the bed.

  The maid might not know, but Libby asked anyway. “Have you seen the detective?”

  The girl bobbed a quick curtsey. “He left just a moment ago.”

  He left moments ago. He had not even stopped to say goodbye...

  Libby leaned against the door jamb, feeling the sting of his actions and regretting her own. She truly cared for Henry; had even dreamed of something beautiful happening between them despite all signs of that being unlikely.

  Pain squeezed at her insides. She might have her life back, but now that she’d had a glimpse of new possibilities, the old life didn’t seem quite so shiny.

  ***

  Later that afternoon

  “Do you think we should send out last-minute invitations to our neighbors?” Christiana asked.

  Libby shook her head immediately. “No, Mama. This should be just family.”

  They were in the drawing room and her mother was finalizing the dinner plans. Christiana clapped her hands together. “Oh, but I think it is a good idea for society to learn that you are not guilty.”

  “They will find out soon enough. I am not ready to receive guests just yet.”

  “Oh. All right,” her mother yielded.

  “Did you invite Henry, Mama?” Mary asked.

  “Of course, I did. Henry is practically family.”

  Libby winced. “I wish you wouldn't say that.”

  “Why ever not?”

  He left without a word, she wanted to answer, but decided against it. She would only sound petty and foolish. And she did not want anyone knowing how much he affected her.

  Christiana suddenly beamed, looking past Libby. “And here he is!”

  Libby’s heart did a strange flutter. She turned and there he was, dressed in the clothing of a gentleman for the first time since they’d met. He looked quite dashing. He advanced into the room and presented the bouquet of flowers he held to her mother.

  “There is nothing I can give you to properly thank you for your hospitality over the past few days, my lady.”

  “Oh, you needn't address me so formally. Call me Christiana. I consider you family now.”

  Libby’s brows knit together and she did not try to hide her disapproval of the comment.

  “The sentiment is mutual,” he returned, before turning to Libby. “May I speak with you for a moment, please?”

  She gave him a dubious look before rising to her feet with her shoulders straight. She led him to the second drawing room, with strange butterfly sensations making themselves felt in her stomach.

  “Libby, I apologize about the lockbox,” he said without wasting any time. “I was wrong to hide anything from you. I was wrong to doubt how well we work together, as equal partners. I hurt you, and I regret it immensely.”

  “Are you saying that because it led to the killer being found?”

  He shook his head and raised his silvery eyes to hers. She loved their unusual color. She found herself softening again, opening her heart to those feelings she knew would doom her.

  “Forgive me,” he murmured, taking her hand.

  She kept her hand in his, despite knowing that nothing could ever come of her infatuation with him. Marriage was not for the likes of her. Despite the annulment, her reputation was never going to be pristine enough for Boston society. “The truth is, I already have forgiven you.”

  Henry suddenly seemed awkward, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink color. “Marry me,” he blurted out.

  Libby’s mouth dropped open. After a few seconds of silence, she managed to close it. “Err…” Her brain swirled as shock coursed through her system. “I beg your pardon?”

  His eyes bored into her. “You heard me. Marry me. We can save your reputation if we marry, and I can prove to you—and everyone—that I have your best interests at heart.”

  “Oh.” Just like that, her hopes were dashed. He was proposing marriage to save her reputation and although that was a good thing and it showed his remorse and willingness to make amends, it was not love. “I can't marry you.”

  She moved toward one of the French windows that looked out onto the pretty rear garden. One of the gardeners had already covered the rose bushes to protect them from the coming winter. Libby wished someone would cover her heart and protect it from hurt. She felt rather than saw Henry come up behind her.

  “Why won't you marry me?”

  “Because having some
one’s best interests at heart is not a reason for marriage.” She turned to face him. “We are not compatible and I don't see how people like us can make a marriage work.”

  Something like anger flared in his eyes. Good. Because she was angry too. With him and with herself, and most especially, with this whole situation.

  He took hold of her shoulders. “That's not true. We have what it takes to make a marriage work.”

  “What do we have?” she seethed. “Daily arguing? Because we do seem to be very good at that.”

  “No. We have this...” One of his hands left her shoulder and circled her waist.

  Her heart jumped in her chest as he dragged her against him. Before she had any time to process what was happening, his lips descended on hers.

  Henry's kiss was not gentle but it awakened her fully to what existed between them. There was passion, and while that did not equate to love, perhaps passion could be tended and turn to love with time.

  His lips softened then, becoming persuasive rather than hard. She stopped resisting, enjoying the kiss, and clutched his broad shoulders for support, not trusting her legs to keep her upright.

  “Libby,” he whispered eventually against her mouth.

  “Yes?”

  He trailed soft kisses from the corner of her mouth to her jaw and up to the delicate spot just below her ear.

  “You feel this, surely?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. She could feel it, everywhere, in her body and deep in her heart.

  “We do have what it takes to have a good marriage.” Pulling away, he cradled her face in his large hands and placed another soft kiss on her lips. “Do you believe me?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He kissed her again only this time, he was so tender her heart ached from it. When he pulled away, she saw what his heart held—a promise. “I don't just want to marry you to save your reputation, Elizabeth.”

  Libby closed her eyes, loving the sound of her full name on his tongue.

  “I have come to care deeply for you. Call me a mad man, but I have fallen in love with you.”