“Any news from Hadleigh?” Fiona asked.
“No.” Livy sighed. “I do miss him so.”
“You will be reunited soon.” Framed by the pleated green silk lining of her bonnet, Glory’s face was sympathetic. “He has managed to infiltrate his former group. Once he finds Fong, there will be nothing stopping you from your happily ever after.”
In front of her closest friends, Livy couldn’t hide her worries any longer.
“Hadleigh and I still have a rather large barrier to surmount,” she said in a rush.
Fi’s blue eyes were keen. “The fact that you haven’t told him about the Society of Angels, you mean?”
Livy nodded, recalling her last night with Ben. After their second round of lovemaking, he’d cuddled her in bed. With her cheek pressed against his hard chest, her body warm and relaxed, she’d never felt more content. She’d almost drifted off when his deep voice lured her back.
“I cannot wait until the day I make you mine,” he’d said.
Giddy with joy, she’d looked into his intent sapphire eyes. “I love you so much, Ben. Marriage will be the grandest adventure for us.”
He’d rolled atop her, his weight braced on his arms. His grave expression had caused an uncertain flutter in her belly.
“Marriage isn’t just about love. As an adventure, it comes with perils,” he’d said. “I have been married so I know the pitfalls. A relationship can go astray if two people are not on the same page.”
Guilt had tensed every filament of her being, the truth burning in her throat.
“I will not repeat my mistakes,” he’d continued. “As I’ve said, I mean to be the master of my own house, and I need to know that you will follow my guidance and not just in bed. I expect your loyalty, honesty, and obedience, even during my absence.”
Recalling his solemn gaze and the inflexible set of his jaw, Livy swallowed.
“The longer I put off telling him the truth, the harder it gets,” she blurted. “But Charlie still hasn’t budged on the secrecy oath. And even if she gave me permission, I am afraid of telling Hadleigh since he would force me to quit the Society.”
“Are you certain he would do that?” Glory knitted her brows. “What if you explained to him how much you love being an investigator?”
“You have seen Hadleigh with Livy, haven’t you, dear?” Fiona’s tone was wry. “Even when he wasn’t courting her, he was like an overprotective older brother. I can only imagine what he is like now that he intends to make her his duchess. He will forbid her from taking risks, ergo she can bid adieu to our group.”
Frowning, Glory said, “That sounds dreadfully high-handed.”
“Hadleigh isn’t high-handed most of the time.” Thinking of his lovemaking, Livy felt her cheeks heat. “At least, not in a way that I mind. But when it comes to my personal safety, Fi is right. He is determined to protect me.”
“I would not want my future husband to dictate what I do,” Glory declared.
“In that case, you would do well to avoid matrimony,” Fi said with a snort. “All men are dictatorial to some degree. Even our fathers, who are the most doting of husbands.”
“You have a point.” Glory wrinkled her nose. “Well, if my future husband were to try to tell me what to do, I’ll simply do what Mama does.”
Fi lifted her brows. “And what is that?”
“Whatever she pleases,” Glory said.
They laughed because all their mothers took that approach.
Smiling, Fi said, “Livy is taking a page out of that particular book.”
“But I fear that strategy will only get me so far.” Livy chewed on her lip. “Eventually Hadleigh will find out, and he will be displeased.” To say the least. “I feel so guilty lying to him, especially since he despises dishonesty because of his past, which is, well, complicated. I cannot share the specifics, but he has his reasons for being overprotective.”
“Can you share any details?” Fi asked. “We promise not to tell.”
“Pinky promise,” Glory said.
Livy usually held back little from her bosom friends, yet circumstances had changed. Now she owed her loyalty to Ben as well, and she knew he would not appreciate her bandying his affairs about. She settled for a compromise, sharing the bare minimum needed to get her friends’ advice.
“You know, obviously, about Aunt Bea’s scar. But there is more behind that story and the man who caused it,” she said slowly. “Suffice it to say, Hadleigh was a hot-headed young man at the time, and his reaction to his sister’s injury led to consequences for which he feels guilt, even to this day. His family fell apart, and he and Aunt Bea were even estranged for a time.”
“I have noticed the two of them are rather stiff in each other’s company,” Glory said.
“They don’t tease or pester one another,” Fi concurred. “How strange is that?”
Since the girls all had brothers, they knew that was highly unusual.
“Beyond Aunt Bea, Hadleigh’s marriage also had…problems,” Livy said.
Which was putting it lightly. Thinking of Ben’s “understanding” with Arabella made Livy feel ill. Now that he was hers, she would never countenance him being with another woman. Luckily, he was as insistent as she was upon fidelity.
“Poor chap,” Glory said softly. “He’s had a rough go of it, hasn’t he?”
“He has.” Livy felt a sharp pang. “I would do anything to make it all better for him.”
“If anyone can, it is you,” Fiona said. “You have loved him forever.”
“And love heals all wounds,” Glory added.
Ben’s words echoed in Livy’s head: Marriage isn’t just about love.
The statement had made Livy feel young and naïve. And, admittedly, a bit out of her depth. She’d never thought of their age difference as a problem, but she was realizing how much more he knew of the world. This was her first romantic relationship, and love was far more complicated than she’d anticipated. Instead of weaving the beautiful web of her dreams, she was getting the threads terribly tangled.
If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again, she thought with an inner sigh.
Not knowing what else to do, she focused on her goal with single-minded resolve.
“My best course of action remains to prove my skills to Hadleigh,” she said. “I will warm him to the idea of my being an investigator little by little, so it doesn’t come as a shock when I finally tell him.”
“Like tempering milk when making custard,” Glory said.
It was lovely to have friends who understood.
“And let’s not forget that I’ve already made progress,” Livy said with growing optimism. “Hadleigh took me to Longmere’s, we searched the earl’s study together, and he introduced me to his friend Mr. Chen.”
“Those are positive signs,” Fiona agreed.
“If I can help track down Fong, then I will demonstrate my competence once and for all,” Livy concluded. “Hadleigh is a reasonable man. Once he sees that I’m perfectly safe working as an Angel, and I apologize for keeping him in the dark, I’m certain he’ll support my dreams.”
Her friends looked at her…and grinned.
“Then let’s solve this case, shall we?” Glory said.
“Thank you for seeing us, Miss Hoskins,” Livy said politely.
“Call me CeCe, luv.” The stunning blonde woman curled up on the threadbare chaise dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “All my friends do, and any friend o’ Edwin’s is a friend o’ mine.”
At the intimate use of Longmere’s name, Livy exchanged uneasy glances with her friends, who occupied the mismatched chairs next to hers. They were in the shabby parlor of Miss Alicia Hoskins’s cramped flat. The model was gorgeous, with wavy hair, heavy-lidded turquoise eyes, and a curvaceous figure barely contained by her flimsy pink robe.
Sensing an opening, Livy took it. “That is the reason we are here today. We know that you were one of his favorite models.”
“I
sat for him just a week before ’is passing,” CeCe said with a sniffle.
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary about his behavior then?”
“Why does that matter now?”
“It might be related to his death,” Glory said.
CeCe’s long lashes fanned rapidly. “I thought that Edwin’s death was an accident. An excess o’ laudanum, the papers said.”
“We are investigating all the possibilities,” Livy said. “At the request of his widow.”
“Oh, the countess is such a dear thing; ’ow she must be grieving. I do want to ’elp if I can.” Twin lines forming between her brows, CeCe said, “Come to think o’ it, there was something unusual that ’appened before one o’ my sittings. Edwin was ’aving an argument with someone. A woman.”
Livy’s pulse sped up. “Do you know her name? Can you describe her appearance?”
CeCe shook her head. “I didn’t see ’er. I’d arrived early and was waiting for Edwin to let me in, it being the ’ousekeeper’s day off. I ’eard raised voices coming from the front parlor. I couldn’t make out most o’ what they were saying, but the woman sounded like a blue blood…” The model mimicked in aristocratic tones, “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me. That part I ’eard. By the time Edwin came to the door, she was gone. I asked ’im about it, but ’e brushed me off. Said it wasn’t important.”
Who was the mysterious woman? Livy wondered. What was the quarrel about?
A sudden intuition gripped her as she recalled Cherise Foxton at the ball with Simon Thorne. Was Lady Foxton involved with the Horsemen? Could her tears have been related to Longmere? Could she be the mysterious aristocratic woman CeCe had overheard?
“There’s something else.” CeCe gnawed on her lip. “A few days before that, I was supposed to pose for Edwin, and when I arrived ’e was in a feverish state. ’E’d been up all night, working on a painting and, by the looks o’ it, drinking as well. ’E was ranting and raving about being ‘useless’ and a ‘weakling.’ Said the painting meant nothing if ’e lacked the fortitude to get to the ‘heart o’ the matter,’ as ’e put it. Then ’e shoved the canvas at me and told me to throw it in the rubbish bin.
“At the time, I didn’t think much o’ ’is outburst—artists are a temperamental lot, and Edwin was always bemoaning this or that. But the piece wasn’t so bad, so instead o’ tossing it out, I kept it. I thought Edwin might want to work on it again someday.”
The hairs tingled on Livy’s nape. “Do you still have the painting?”
The model nodded. “I’ll fetch it.” She rushed out of the parlor, her slippers flapping against the floor and robe fluttering against her calves.
“In his diary, Longmere called himself a weakling for not standing up to Fong,” Livy said with barely suppressed excitement. “I wonder if this painting has something to do with the villain.”
“I wonder why Pippa wasn’t worried about her husband being alone with the spectacular Miss Hoskins for hours on end,” Fiona murmured.
“Pippa is just as beautiful,” Livy pointed out.
“Nonetheless, one should never be too trusting,” Fi said sagely. “Especially when it comes to men.”
Glory snorted. “I think Charlie is rubbing off on you.”
Just then, another woman entered the parlor. In contrast to CeCe’s voluptuous sensuality, the newcomer was thin, dark-haired, and angular, and most surprisingly of all, dressed in male attire. She held a tray with a chipped teapot and a plate of biscuits.
“Morning, ladies,” the woman said in a friendly manner. “Thought I might offer you a spot o’ tea seeing as CeCe most likely forgot.”
Accepting a cracked cup, Livy smiled at her. “How kind of you, Miss…”
“You can call me Marg.” The woman winked at her. “All the pretty ladies do.”
Livy blinked in confusion, wondering if she’d imagined the innuendo.
CeCe returned, huffing, her arms stretched around a painting covered in an oilcloth.
“Are you teasing the poor girl?” she asked Marg.
“Just ’aving a bit o’ fun.” Marg gave her a playful grin. “Let me ’elp you with that, luv.”
Marg took the canvas, propping it on the chaise. CeCe tugged off the cloth.
Livy studied the painting. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this: a bland riverside scene done in muted strokes of beige, blue, and grey. A small, nondescript two-story building occupied the center of the canvas. It was perched on the banks of a river, an empty field to the right of it. To the left was a dock where several small boats floated, including one with the figurehead of a mermaid.
“Did Longmere say anything about the significance of this piece, CeCe?” Livy asked.
“Just what I told you: that he’d failed to get to the ’eart o’ the matter.” The model tilted her head. “But the painting isn’t so bad, is it?”
“Looks like a scene from the Thames.” Marg stroked her chin, studying the piece. “If I ’ad to wager, I’d put my money on Shadwell, Limehouse, or thereabouts.”
Limehouse is one of the places Fong might be hiding, Livy thought. Could this painting be a clue to the mastermind’s whereabouts?
“May we take this piece with us, CeCe?” she asked. “It may help us discover what happened to Longmere. We will return it to you afterward.”
“Keep it.” CeCe shuddered, Marg wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “If the painting ’as something to do with poor Edwin’s death, then I want nothing to do with it.”
29
The next morning, Livy was practicing with her pistol when she received a summons from Charlie. She promptly headed for her mentor’s study, which was a feminine version of the typical male retreat. The wood furnishings were sculpted in flowing elegant lines, the walls papered in raspberry silk. Dressed in a yellow gown, Charlie was seated at her desk, which was carved with exotic birds and flowers. Sunlight glinted off her reading spectacles as she sorted through a pile of correspondence.
“Hello, dear.” Setting down her spectacles, Charlie said, “Have a seat, will you? I apologize for interrupting your training, but I have some news to share.”
Livy plopped into the chair facing the desk. “Have you already identified the location in Longmere’s painting?” she asked eagerly.
“Not yet,” Charlie replied. “Although no one knows the Thames better than the mudlarks, even they will need time to locate the scene. Buildings such as those in the painting are plentiful around the river.”
The mudlarks were urchins who scavenged the Thames for a living. Charlie knew their leader, known as the Prince of Larks, who apparently dealt not only in the sales of scavenged goods but of information. The mudlarks had eyes and ears everywhere, especially in the territories by the water, and Charlie had decided to hire them to scout out the location in Longmere’s painting.
“What is your news then?” Livy asked.
“It concerns Hadleigh.”
Livy sat up straighter. “Tell me.”
“As you know, while you Angels have been interviewing Longmere’s models, Mrs. Peabody, Hawker, and I have divided our time monitoring Edgecombe and his group,” Charlie said. “I’ve been surveilling Bollinger for the past few days. Having ascertained that his habit is to take afternoon tea at Mivart’s, I secured a position as a serving maid there, and yesterday he had a guest. Lady Cherise Foxton.”
A frisson shot through Livy. She’d told Charlie about seeing Foxton with Thorne at Lady Newberry’s ball and her hunch that the widow might have been the lady quarreling with Longmere.
“Lady Foxton is popping up everywhere,” Livy muttered.
“Indeed.” Charlie paused. “Are you aware of her, ahem, history with Hadleigh?”
That they had not discussed.
“I am,” Livy said, her insides churning. “As I understand, it was a short-lived affair.”
“That is my understanding as well,” Charlie said briskly. “Lady Foxt
on runs with a fast crowd and has a reputation for being a sensation seeker. The fortune her late husband left her provides her with freedom, and she has an uncanny ability to avoid scandal whilst participating in it with, shall we say, remarkable enthusiasm.”
“What was Lady Foxton doing with Viscount Bollinger?” Livy asked.
“From what I could gather, it was a business transaction cloaked as a social one. Bollinger promised Foxton ‘a devilish good time’ this evening. She, in return, slipped him a purse filled with banknotes.”
Livy chewed on her lip. “She is one of the group’s clients?”
“I believe so. They will be meeting tonight at the Hellfire Club, an exclusive establishment catering to debauchery. Foxton was particularly keen when Bollinger mentioned that the newest member of the Horsemen would be in attendance.”
Invisible hands yanked on Livy’s corset strings. Struggling to breathe, she said, “Hadleigh is going to be there?”
Charlie inclined her head.
“Then I have to be there as well,” Livy burst out.
“I thought you might feel that way.” Crossing to Livy, Charlie leaned against the desk’s edge, her daffodil-colored skirts spilling over the panel of flora and fauna. “The Horsemen will be distributing the Devil’s Bliss to their clientele at the Hellfire Club, which could yield critical information about their operation. But I must be frank: because of your personal stake in the situation, I have reservations about taking you.”
“You can trust me,” Livy said at once. “I haven’t let you down yet.”
“No, you have not. You have been a loyal Angel.” Charlie’s look was measuring. “All right, then. No matter what you see tonight—and I warn you, the club is known for its depravity—you must stay disguised. You cannot give yourself away, especially to Hadleigh. It will be a test of your strength and commitment to the case.”
“I will not fail,” Livy said.
Olivia and the Masked Duke Page 23